Title: Stalked, Chapter 2

Disclaimer: If they are mine, then it's news to me. Someone should have told me. I'd have brought along ToYD looooong ago. Don't sue me.

Authors' Note: Sorry this one took so long to get to you! There was some confusion between my beta and myself, I thought she had it...she thought I was slow...nobody asked any questions. Turns out, my computer just decided to eat the email I sent her containing it. So please, props to Sol for putting up with what she thought was just extremely slow me... I love you guys for the feedback, makes this whole confusing mess worthwhile. So leave me some. Please? Thanks! Enjoy.

Nity was both surprised and delighted that so far she hadn't so much as screamed. She's been a little confused at first. Silly woman had actually thought he'd wanted her car. He chuckled at the thought as he followed Sara to his front door.

As he reached around her and slipped the key into the lock, he allowed himself to inhale the tantalizing sent of her shampoo. He heard her gasp as he touched her neck as he drew his hand back. "Sweet Sara."

"How…how'd you know my name?"

He opened the door and led her inside. "I know everything about you Sara." He touched her waist and she shuddered. "I have to know everything to make you happy."

"Make me happy? How does any of this make me happy?"

Nity shut the door behind them and slipped two heavy deadbolts into place. He smiled to himself. He had been right. She was feisty. But she'd learn, in time, that this did make her happy. Really happy, not the false happiness she expressed around her coworkers. "I did all of this for you. So you would feel welcome in my home. In our home."

Against the desperate feeling of panic building in her chest, Sara remained calm. He had brought her here to be with him, not to kill her. All she had to do was play along and maybe he wouldn't hurt her. She quickly blinked away the tears forming in her eyes. "Thank you."

"You're oh so welcome, my dear Sara. I'm glad you appreciate all I did."

Sara nodded and swallowed to steady her voice. "Yes. I really do."

He pointed her toward a chair. "Sit. We've got some rules to discuss."

As Sara sat, she looked around, taking in her surroundings for the first time. The inside of the house looked worse then the outside. The wallpaper was yellowed with age, the paint on the ceiling chipping off, cobwebs filled every corner, and the windows were so heavy with dirt she couldn't see out of them. When she sat, a small puff of dust arose from the cushion on the chair. "What rules?"

"First off, even though this is your house too now, there are some places that are still just mine. Places that you may never enter. My office is strictly off-limits. As is the attic. You will have a room of your own, as well. Second, and I hate to do this, but for the time being, I'm going to have to restrain you. I've sacrificed a lot to be here with you today, a good job, good friends, a nice apartment. And I don't want you leaving before we can get to know each other. Ok?" He waved the gun in her direction.

"You don't have to tie me up. I won't go anywhere." She was amazed at how calm she sounded.

"Ah Sara, I know how trustworthy you are, but I'm afraid that I just can't believe you yet. Come with me." He stood and led her through to the kitchen. He pointed toward the basement door. "Your room is down there."

She nodded and took a step toward the door before turning to face him. "And where do you stay?"

He smiled at her. "My room is up here. I'll give you the full tour later. For now, let me show you to your room."

He followed her to the door and opened it for her. She stopped on the first step. "It's dark…"

"Sorry love," he reached out and flipped on the switch. "I forgot I blacked out all the windows."

She took a few more tentative steps into the basement. "It's ok."

"Of course it is."

As they reached the bottom of the stairs, she stopped. The room looked like it had seen better days. The walls were stained a rusty brown from years of water damage. The floor was nothing more then dirt. A full size mattress lay on the floor. Beside it sat an old rocking chair. At both ends of the bed a thick steel pole had been set up. Sara imagined that was what he was going to chain her to because of the thick chains attached to them. The smell of wet dirt and mildew assaulted her nostrils and she wrinkled her nose.

"Sorry about the stench, but I'm afraid I didn't have the financial resources to fix up the place. You've kept me very busy these last few years."

Years? Sara wondered silently. How long had he been following her? She couldn't remember ever meeting him. But she knew that with stalkers, all it would have taken was an apology when she bumped into them in the hall. "What if I have to go to the bathroom?"

The man laughed a warm, almost affectionate laugh. "Well," he pointed to a far corner. "See that? That's a closed circuit camera. So when I'm not down here with you, I can still watch you. If you need something, all you have to do is wave. I want to make you as comfortable as possible. And when I'm not here, there will be a bucket within reach. You'll discover soon enough that I have no intention of hurting you, that all I really want is for you to know how deeply I care for you. But you'll also discover that if you do not obey me, I will hurt you. Think of it as my teaching technique. You'll be rewarded for good behavior. And punished for the bad." He pointed to the bed. "Now sit."

Sara sat down heavily on the mattress and looked up expectantly. He reached down and grabbed her ankle. "What are you doing?" Even she was surprised at the gall she had to ask him that.

"I told you I had to restrain you. At least for now." He snapped a heavy iron cuff to her ankle. "Now I have to go out for a while. I have to get rid of your car. It might look a little suspicious to have it parked by my curb. We both know your CSI buddies will find it, and I don't need them finding me too. Can I get you anything before I go?"

"No."

"I can bring you a cup of tea. Or if you prefer, a mug of hot water and a tea bag…"

Sara squinted her eyes at him. "What's your name?"

His hand made a sharp contact with her face before she knew it was coming. The stinging on her cheek brought a quick shine to her eyes. "What was that for?"

"How dare you not even know my name! After all I've done for you. All I've given up for you! Ungrateful bitch! I remembered your name! I even remembered that friend of yours. Grissom... I even remembered his name. And you can't remember mine. I'll be back." He took off storming up the stairs and slammed the door so hard the frame rattled.

Sara lay down on the mattress and thought. She was in a bad situation. No, a horrible situation. She didn't know how she was going to get home again.

Nity slammed the basement door in anger. His temper was quickly flaring. This was not supposed to be the way this happened. He had never thought she'd come willingly, or be thrilled to be here. But to not even know who he was? Still seething he punched his fist against the wall. Damn her! Taking a deep breath, he tried to remind himself that it wasn't all her fault. He'd had years to learn about her. And that first introduction, the only time she'd ever acknowledged him, had been a very long time ago.

Tampering down the anger he could still feel just beneath the surface, he grabbed a tray he had prepared and opened the basement door again. He found her lying in the mattress, her hands over her eyes. He set the tray down beside the bed and kicked the mattress sharply. She jumped as though he'd struck her. "I brought you some food and water. I don't know how long I'll be gone."

He turned to go back up the stairs when she spoke. "You've been leaving me clues." He stopped and turned back around to face her. She had uncovered her eyes and sat up. "The dollar bills."

He walked over to the edge of the mattress, squatted down in front of her, and nodded. "I knew you'd find me."

He watched as her beautiful eyes darkened with confusion. "But I di…"

He had always been amazed at how her face expressed emotion. How it changed. With the realization that she had indeed come to him, her eyes grew wide and her lips parted just slightly. He reached out and cupped her face, momentarily confused when she flinched. Then he remembered that just minutes ago that same hand had struck her. He gently laid his hand against her still red cheek. "I'm sorry…" Panic filled her eyes and he was immediately sorry that he had hit her. He hadn't had a good reason. "I won't hurt you Sara. I was just insulted."

"I didn't mean to upset you." She had bowed her head and her hands were gripping one another. "I just can't remember…"

He took a deep breath. "My name's Nity." She didn't say anything, just nodded. She lay back down on the mattress and closed her eyes. He reached out and smoothed her hair behind her ears. "Sleep now, my Sara, we can talk later."

He walked up the stairs and shut the door quietly behind him. Using the key around his neck he locked the basement door, and then slid two deadbolts into place. He didn't really think she'd get loose from that chain, but there was always the risk some snoopy high school kid would break in again. And he didn't want to ever let her go.

Listening carefully, Sara heard the locks snap together, and then five minutes later she heard the front door close. As he had said, all the windows had been blacked out and there was no way for her to see outside. She stood and walked as far as she could toward the stairs. About three feet from the bottom step, the chain grew taut. She went back and sat down in the chair next to her makeshift bed. The cuff around her ankle was heavy and awkward. She examined the links to the chain closer. They all looked new and strong, and there didn't appear to be a weak spot that she could work at to get loose.

She started shivering uncontrollably. She didn't know if it was the cool damp air, or perhaps her unbridled fear finally coming to the surface, but she could not get warm. Curling into a fetal position, she laid down on the dirty mattress. Her skin felt clammy and her stomach was tossing. This was not good. She was quite possible going into shock. She'd managed to hold it together while he was there, show no weakness, and express no fear. Be stronger then him. But now he was gone, she was alone, and thoughts of what were to come started racing through her head. She didn't want to die here. "Oh God."

She knew that eventually her team would realize she was missing. But she'd only been gone two hours…maybe less. It would be a full day before anyone really started to worry. And she'd told Grissom she might stay home. So it could be two days. A lot could happen in two days. If the slap across the face had proven anything, it was that he was very likely unstable. In two days, she could do anything and anger him enough to get the shit kicked out of her. In two days, he could have raped her, beaten her, tortured her…in two days, her life could have come to an abrupt end.

Sara had been in some very ugly situations in her life. Some things so painful that she wouldn't wish them upon Ecklie… but she had never before been this scared. Never before had fear alone made her feel like she needed to vomit.

She tried to understand him, tried desperately to remember when she had met him. When he'd told her that she had come to him, at first she thought he was completely insane, that he honestly thought she had come voluntarily. Then her mind had raced back to the hints she had picked up. Her…not anyone else… Those clues were meant for her.

That number was one she saw every time she came to work. It was the number they identified her parking space with. They were stenciled across the bottom of the sign, beneath the words "Employee parking only." Two years ago, there had been a big ordeal involving employee spaces. There hadn't been enough to go around, so the lot had been repainted and every employee had been assigned a number. It wasn't the sign she looked at every day, it was the spot, which is why she hadn't immediately realized what was going on. She really had walked right into his arms.

She knew she should be trying to get away while he was gone. She knew that the longer she was here the less chance of escaping she had. She had used to look at people, people who had been held hostage, grown adults, and wondered why they hadn't fought back. Now she knew.

None of the self defense classes she had taken had actually prepared her for this. She should have screamed, yelled at the top of her lungs. She should have kicked and fought to get away. But she hadn't. For as strong as she thought she was, the instant she had felt his presence in her car, fear had attacked her every nerve ending. Every technique she'd ever learned had disappeared into thin air, and she had felt completely defenseless.

She lay there, her arms wrapped around herself, drifting in and out of consciousness, for what felt like hours before she heard the front door opening again. She pried her eyes open, surprised to find them blurry with tears. Crying had never been her thing. She'd always been stronger then a tear. And she honestly could not remember when they'd started this time. Quickly, she swiped at her eyes and sat up. No way in hell was she going to let him know how scared she really was. When she heard the basement door open she stood. 'Be strong. Meet him on his level.'

The stairs creaked as he came down. "Sara? Honey, I'm home." He appeared at the bottom. "Miss me?"

"Can I see the rest of the house now?" She hated the smile that broke out on his face.

"Sure. I was hoping you'd ask." He came closer and pulled the gun from his waistband. "Sit down; let me get that cuff off."

She sat down on the chair and lifted her foot toward him. "You know, you don't have to put this on me. You can trust me not to run."

"In time, maybe I will trust you. But as it is still the first day, I don't think so."

Sara sighed; it had been worth a shot. "I need to use the bathroom."

"Ok. We'll stop there first." He grabbed her around the upper arm and hauled her to her feet.

As they started up the stairs, he walked beside her, making it awkward to take each step. When they reached the top, she was surprised to find that it was already dark outside. She'd been taken early that morning, right after shift, where had the day gone? And where had Nity been all day? She didn't want to ask. Her last round of curiosity had gotten her slapped. Who knew what he'd do this time.

When he started talking, she forced herself to pay attention, anything he said could potentially be the answer to how she could get out of here.

"…and this is the sitting room. But we'll never actually use it. That's what the family room is for. This one's just for show." He pointed to a room just past the kitchen. "But anyway, here's the bathroom. Don't try anything. You've got exactly two minutes. Don't lock the door. Go."

Sara bolted for the bathroom, the first thing she did was hurriedly empty her painfully full bladder. Then she went straight for the window, trying to determine exactly where he had her held. Unfortunately, the bathroom faced the back of the house, and all she could see out the window were trees. As she flushed the toilet, she looked around. This room held nothing but a small shower stall, a toilet, and a small sink. Above the sink there was a medicine cabinet and she opened it as she turned on the water. Nothing except a bottle of ibuprofen and a box of chocolate laxatives. Nothing to help her escape. Dammit.

Nity pounded on the door as she shut off the tap. "I'm coming." She opened the door and he was standing right there. She took an involuntary step backwards and he reached out and grabbed her.

"Now, Sara, let me show you the rest of the house."

She winced at how tightly he squeezed her arm as he dragged her through the house. She took it all in with the eyes and ears of a CSI. Every drawer she saw was locked; every door had a bolt on it. In three of the rooms, metal poles similar to the ones he'd had her chained to in the basement stood in the center of the floor. Judging from this, she decided that those three rooms, the kitchen, family room, and 'porch'; as he called it, were going to be where she spent a lot of her time.

He took her from room to room, showing her things that she was not allowed to touch. "…and this is the stairway to the attic. You are to never, ever go up there. Do you understand?" His eyes were narrowed and his voice held the same rough anger it had when he'd struck her.

"Yes. I understand."

"Good." Immediately his tone was calm again. He even whistled as he led her down the hall. "And this is my bedroom. Eventually it will be our bedroom."

Sara's heart jumped into her throat. "Our bedroom?"

He laughed and Sara felt icicles form in her veins. "You don't actually expect to be in a relationship without ever consummating it, do you? I mean it's not like you're old fashioned or anything."

She swallowed hard. He thought they were going to have sex. He expected her to want him. To willingly open herself up to him. An immediate sense of queasiness settled in her stomach. It was getting harder and harder to stay strong in his presence. It was getting hard to play this game.

True to his word, he showed her around the entire house before returning her to the basement. She hadn't seen a phone, and it had been to dark outside for her to tell any details of the street she was on, which meant that even if she had been able to get to a phone to call for help, she had no way to tell them where she was.

As he locked the cuff around her ankle, he sat down in the chair next to hers. "So Sara, how was your day?"

Sara felt disbelief in this man. He had taken her from the parking lot, chained her up in his basement, and now he wanted to know how her day had been? Pretending he'd just come home from a hard day's work to find his wife waiting for him. He wanted to have a conversation? She frowned. "Not to bad…considering." She waved her hand toward her foot.

"Yeah, again, I'm sorry about that. I just don't want to lose you." He paused for a moment and Sara actually thought she saw real regret in his eyes. Then he continued talking again. "I took your car and left it at the airport. I also went to your apartment and cleared out your refrigerator and disconnected your utilities. It hasn't changed much since the last time I was there."

"You've been there before?" Sara took a chance. Honestly, the curiosity just to know was the only thing fueling her now.

"Yes, quite a few times actually. The first time I got lucky, you left your front door unlocked while you were in the shower. I found your spare key in the kitchen and got a copy made. After that, I came and went as I pleased. You're beautiful when you're sleeping. Like an angel." He reached out to touch her again and this time she did pull away.

"Don't touch me." Her tone came out as a mixture of fear and anger.

"My dear, I can do whatever I want to you. You're mine now." His voice got deep and slow and his demeanor grew livid. "In fact, right now," He kneeled in front of the bed and grabbed her hair. "Right now I just want to touch you."

He moved in and kissed her cheek. Sara fought hard not to gag as his sour breath filled her nostrils and his clammy lips pressed against her flesh. She struggled to get away but he grabbed another fistful of hair with one hand and held her in place. His other hand was fumbling along the bottom of her shirt. When his calloused fingertips touched the tender flesh of her stomach, she reacted in the only way she knew how. Punching out with both hands, she caught him first in the stomach and then again on the hip. He stumbled back from his kneeling position. "I said. Don't touch me."

"You are a fighter, aren't you? But I already knew that." He came at her again and this time instead of fear, only anger filled her. "If I want you, Sara, I will have you." He shoved her back onto the mattress and straddled her hips, pinning her down.

Sara shoved at him and punched wherever she could reach to no prevail. He was bigger then her, stronger then her, and apparently, more determined then her. "Get! Off! Me!" When he clamped his hand over her mouth to stifle her screams she bit down onto his fingers…hard. Hard enough to fill her mouth with the salty taste of blood. He pulled his hand back immediately and swore at her.

"Bitch." He lifted himself off the bed and slapped her across the face. She spit his blood from her mouth and gagged. He kicked over the tray of food beside the bed and headed back upstairs. "Don't think this is over. You won't get away so easily next time."

Sara had never felt violated like this before. She'd always related to rape cases at work, not because she herself had been raped, but because she related to women being abused in general. Now here she was, he'd really done nothing but touch her, and she was shaking like a leaf. Again, she curled herself into a ball and began rocking gently back and forth. She wondered exactly what she had done to set him off this time. Had it been the actual words she'd said? The tone in which she'd said them? What had made him turn against her so fast?

'He's crazy. He doesn't need a reason.' She thought to herself.

She closed her eyes and somehow managed to fall asleep. Dreams came fast that night, vivid nightmares about the man upstairs, touching her, hurting her. Keeping her. Then there was another, she felt so out of control it was like a feeling of spiraling out of the sky. Nobody to help her. Nobody to rely on. Sometime near morning she jerked herself awake feeling so alone. With only one word on her lips. "Grissom."