Disclaimer: Ahh, you know… I don't own anything and make no money!

Thank you very much, Emptyvoices. (Fascinating name btw!) Yeah, the poor girl has enemies… OK, here's the next chapter. Read and enjoy, and tell me what you think.

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Chapter 10 Loose Ends

Cursing silently to himself, Vincent holstered the gun and grabbed the phone. Flipping it open as he turned away from the bed, he growled, "Yeah!"

The man in the other end of the line was enthusiastic. "V! Got some info. Was easier than I thought!"

"Go ahead."

"Turned out you were right. Our contact at the Corelli's checked with their source at the phone company, and then with some cop-dude of theirs. The guy who put up the contract IS in fact the same guy that were charged with the assault on that mark you're supposed to do. And tell you what: he's supposedly running some security business over there, on and off the record, so to speak. Seems he's trying to get his share of the market. Protection and shit like that, you know. Corellis ain't too happy about that... they've kept an eye on this guy for the last six months, or so. Johnny told me to tell you, that if you had some unfinished business with him, they wouldn't be in your way. Said they wouldn't hold it against you..."

Really?

That last remark didn't pass Vincent unnoticed. He filed it away for now, though.

"Good job, Frank. Send me the info on him."

"Seem to me they want rid of him, don't you think?"

"Frank!"

"All right, I'll send it."

"I'll contact you later."

"But, V..."

Vincent hung up and curled his upper lip into an expression of slight disgust. Same old Frank: reliable, lacking most of what people would call a conscience, perfectionist when it came to gathering information, hacking computers, security systems, and other useful skills.

The man was, however, annoyingly chatty from time to time. They were opposites really, but both were highly professional and overall they didn't see that much of each other, so it was bearable.

Interesting…

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Sarah's heart had almost stopped when the buzzing sound of the phone went off, just a few inches from her ear. It took her several seconds to realize she was still alive. Yet she found herself unable to open her eyes again. She'd said her farewells to the world a few moments ago, and now she existed in limbo, listening to Vincent's short growls on the phone and the chatter from the person at the other end of the line. When he was done there was silence for several moments, and then her bed sank as he sat down at the edge of it.

When she felt his hand on her shoulder, she couldn't hold back any more and burst into tears. Her whole body shook and she curled into a fetal position as she almost cramped in pain, fear, and relief. Vincent hung heavy on her for a moment, and then her hands were suddenly free from their bonds. Taking her wrists in his hands, he rubbed them, trying to get some circulation back. Sarah made no effort to pull out of his grip.

"Sarah," he whispered.

She didn't move, and her eyes were still closed. The tip of her nose was so cold, as if something had sucked the warmth out of her body.

"Sarah," he said again.

Still unable to respond, she lay frozen.

"That won't happen again," he stated in a low voice that sounded a bit shaken. He cleared his throat. "Ever." Then he got up and left her alone.

Sarah remained on the bed, in the same position, for a few more minutes. Then she staggered up and rushed past a startled Vincent in the living room. He flung himself after her, but stopped flat when he realized she was heading for the bathroom. Sarah slammed the door shut, and bent over the toilet, throwing up in cascades all the contents of her stomach. After she was done, she was all sweaty and messy. The bathroom reeked of vomit, and her hair hung around her face, strands of it plastered against her forehead. Trembling, she rested her cheek against the cool china of the basin.

This is the worst fucking day of my life! Just finishing that thought, she knew it was wrong - she'd had much worse…

She didn't feel strong enough yet to go out and face him. 'That won't happen again… ever…' What wouldn't happen? The little hope she'd had of getting out alive had been lost those few moments ago, and the swirling vortex of hopelessness within her grew wider and wider.

He really meant to kill me! If it hadn't been for that phone call, I'd be dead by now…

In slow-motion, Sarah sank down on the thick, red rug and hugged her knees with her arms, slowly rocking back and forth, comforting herself when no one else would.

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Vincent watched her flee past him and then listened to the sounds of her throwing up in the bathroom. He sank down again on the couch and brought his hands up to his face, rubbing the palms against his eyes and then his cheeks. Frustrated with his own indecisiveness, he reflexively smoothened out some imagined wrinkles on his pants and corrected his tie. As if a flawless exterior somehow made up for a flawed interior.

Didn't want to kill her.

Already knew that…Would've though, easy way out.

And now it's OK not to…

He stood abruptly, and paced the living room in utter annoyance, the depths of his dark eyes mirroring the agony he felt.

Spineless! Make your own fucking decisions, Vincent.

Improvise…

Snorting, Vincent finally made up his mind and confirmed what he'd already known. Sarah would live.

The client had to go.

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After quite a while, probably about an hour, Sarah cautiously opened the bathroom door and peeked out. She hadn't heard a sound from outside since she'd slammed the door shut behind her. Hoping intensely he'd be gone, she almost had a heart attack when she found him sitting coolly in her couch.

"Can't you just leave?" she said in a broken voice. "Please?"

"You want me to?" Vincent replied.

She couldn't believe he even asked. "Yes!"

"Can't do that, Sarah, not yet."

Something burst inside of Sarah at that final comment. There wouldn't be any end. If he couldn't leave, didn't it mean he was just toying with her and that he would eventually kill her?

Out of the blue, Sarah suddenly threw herself at the front door. It opened! Already halfway down the staircase, he caught her by the hair. She howled with pain as he pulled her in, and he quickly changed his grip. Covering her mouth instead, he reached past her and slammed the door shut, locking it this time.

Squirming in his grip and attempting to bite him, Sarah fought to get free.

"Shhh, shhh." Vincent pressed her body against his and tried to calm her, as they sank to the floor.

"Mummmnnguumng!" Her long tirade under his hand only turned into muffled sounds, impossible to understand.

"If I take my hand away, Sarah, you have to promise not to scream." He spoke calmly, soothingly.

She hesitated, and then nodded.

When his hand was gone Sarah inhaled deeply, as if taking her first breath ever, then she sobbed, "Just get it over with, Vincent! I can't stand it any more!"

I want OUT!

At that moment, she really wanted to die. Her mind screamed at him to do it, to finish it, to release her.

"Sarah." She didn't seem to hear, and was completely avoiding his gaze. "Sarah!" he said with more force, turning her head towards him with a hand gently gripping her chin. "I'm not going to kill you, Sarah."

Sarah flinched. He hadn't said it out loud before. He hadn't given her any promises until now, just that ray of hope late last night. The thought of that previous trust she'd carried made her angry. He's just playing me! It's just a trick! He just fucking tried to kill me a few minutes ago!

"You're so full of shit, Vincent!" she snarled.

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"I'm full of shit?" He couldn't believe she was being this hostile. He'd just given her the most generous gift he'd ever offered to anyone in his entire life. "Sarah, you're a monument of it!"

Her eyes narrowed. "I? YOU have no heart, no soul...You're just a… - a breathing mass of flesh!" she yelled. "They won't even welcome you in hell; they'll have to build a special one, just for you!" Working herself up, red spots appeared on her cheeks and her eyes flashed with anger. She struggled to get free, and he let her go, following her up until they were standing, face to face. "Get out of my LIFE!" She shoved at his unyielding chest as she screamed the last word.

"Life…" he snorted. He didn't like being treated this way. I'm trying to be nice for fuck's sake!

"What life? 'Someday. Someday my dream will come true´," he taunted. "Well someday you'll wake up and realize it never came. Never happened. That day is here. Wake the fuck up, Sarah!" He had grabbed her shoulders with both hands, and shook her as he sneered at her.

Vincent knew he was hurting her, pushing her where it would hurt the most, but something about her seemed to bring out both the best and the worst in him. She was like a band-aid, ripped off from a still not healed cut; tearing the flesh and making it bleed again.

Fresh blood can be a good thing; it means the wound is cleaner.

The downside is that it's painful.

Sarah almost jumped in anger as she screamed at him, "What do you care? What's it to you? You could just leave and go on with whatever makes your own life so fucking special. But you know what? I think you can't. I think your life is just as empty as mine. Killing me would mean killing yourself and that little remnant of a soul in you!" With uncontrolled, angry movements, she wiped away the tears that had formed in her eyes.

Vincent opened his mouth to retaliate, but closed it again.

She's right… I do remember - another man…

a boy…

He staggered backwards a couple of steps, until his back hit the kitchen bench. Confused, he looked behind him and then back at her.

It fucking hurts!