Olivia ducked instinctively at the gunshot. The bullet whizzed past her left ear and landed in the wall two feet in front of her. She eyed the front door. Eight yards.
"The next one goes through your shoulder."
Should she risk it? Olivia realized her feet had stopped moving. The too familiar handcuffs hung from her left wrist. There had not been enough time to get them fully off. The front door was now six yards away. She could make it.
"There's no one around, Olivia. If you make it through the door, I'll just haul you back inside. The only thing you'll have to show for it is a hole in your body. And do you really want me to patch up a gunshot wound?"
He had a point. Olivia's stomach dropped. Her eyes followed. She hadn't been fast enough. One chance and she blew it.
"Turn around. Hands up."
He was angry. No…no, that wasn't right. He was furious.
"It won't end well for you if I have to come get you," Lewis snarled.
His anger flowed from him until its fingertips wrapped around her throat. She couldn't swallow. She couldn't breathe. She should turn around, but her feet were glued to the off-white tile beneath her.
A pained cry escaped her throat a second later as a kick to the back of her knees sent her sprawling to the floor.
"Thirty seconds," Lewis seethed. "I told you to behave, and you lasted less than thirty seconds."
A boot to her ribs stole the air from her response. She curled into a ball as Lewis landed another kick. She heard a crunch – like someone had taken a bite of cereal.
"But you don't care about the rules, do you? Because the great and mighty Detective Olivia Benson makes up her own rules!"
She couldn't breathe. Her eyes rounded at the burn in her lungs. It added to the pain in her head. In her arm. In between her legs. It was a symphony of agony, and the conductor was preparing for another song.
Lewis drew back for another kick, and she pushed past the pain. "Please," she whispered in a strained voice. Her arms curled around her stomach, as if that would help the stabbing ache. Pleading wouldn't make a difference. She knew it. Lewis knew it. But maybe that's why he was grinning now.
"You beg so sweet for me now, sweetheart." Lewis leaned down on his haunches and ran his hand along her cheek.
She bit back her protest as her body shivered. Of all the things Lewis had done, touching her face was nothing to write home about. If she made it home. Olivia eyed him warily. He should have shot her. He had promised to kill her if she fought him. So why hadn't he?
Lewis hardened his gaze. "Why don't we get you upstairs so you can practice that sweet whimper."
Her entire body trembled. It required no thought. She was losing track of the days she had spent with this psychopath. It really didn't matter. He was angry with her again. Her body knew the signs. Her body also knew the consequences, and it wept for the upcoming cruelty.
Olivia made no moves to get up. He hadn't ordered her to. He still held the gun. Pain exploded in her chest at every breath. Getting up was a bad idea in every way. She brought her weary eyes to his and searched for answers. He provided none.
"Up you go," Lewis grabbed her arm and pulled up. Neither was prepared for her scream.
Her body slumped back to the ground. Lewis raised an eyebrow.
"Why are you doing this?" Olivia implored in a breathy voice, wincing at the stabbing pain that had wrapped around her upper stomach. "It's been over a week. Right? I think," her voice trailed off with a gasp. The pulsating pain from her stomach made it difficult to talk.
"You don't get to ask questions," Lewis answered firmly. He reached down again, but Olivia shrank away from him.
"You sh-should have…killed me…al-ready."
Lewis paused at her halted speech. "What's up with you? Your pain tolerance suddenly drop? You can handle a few kicks to the ribs."
Hatred bubbled up inside her. Who was he to say what she could handle? He wasn't the one being burned and sliced.
"Why am I…not dead," Olivia spat out. She rolled to her back and immediately regretted her decision. The ceiling above her twirled like an amusement park ride.
"Because I'm not done with you," Lewis stood to his full height and peered down at the struggling woman.
Her eyes rounded in dismay and then closed at the new wave of pain coursing through her. She rolled back to her side. "How?"
He smirked at her newfound discomfort. "There's so many things we haven't done."
Olivia turned until her forehead touched the cool floor. Her stomach rolled at all the things he had already done to her. No wonder his victims hadn't been specific in any of their testimonies. It was revolting. "What could…pos-sibly be…next?"
Lewis didn't answer her immediately. His eyes roamed over her body. He took in the bruises and dried blood on her face. The purple circles around her wrists. Her torn shirt revealed partially healed burns, and thin red lines showed where he had wielded a knife. Pride surged through him. He took a small step towards her and noted her shudder with a chuckle.
"Do you remember what you told me about your parents?"
Olivia took a slow breath and winced at the stabbing pain. She had said something about her parents? That couldn't be good. She didn't have warm, fuzzy childhood stories.
"People don't often think about that aspect of pain. Where it's so intense, the filter you have is gone. You can ask someone any question when they're in that stage. They'll tell you anything you want to know."
Olivia's brow furrowed. "My parents don't have…anything to do with this," she croaked.
"Don't they?" Lewis leaned back down again, this time resting his hand on her stomach.
Olivia's face betrayed her thoughts. The gun was brought to her cheek while his other hand pulled up her shirt. Panic and dread rushed through her veins. Adrenaline begged her to move, but the gun effectively kept her where Lewis wanted.
"They were the reason you went into the police force. The reason you went into Special Victims." Lewis tilted his head at the battle he found in her eyes. "Am I wrong?"
Olivia gritted her teeth as memories flashed like pictures. The conversation had happened right after he used the blowtorch for the second time. He was about to turn her over. He was explaining the pain of being sodomized. As if it took a rocket scientist to know it hurt like hell.
Lewis pushed her shirt up to her breasts, exposing only her stomach. "It had to be tough. Knowing your mom could never heal from being raped because she had to constantly deal with you. Every day, you paid for your father's sins."
Olivia turned away from him, acutely aware the gun followed. He had whispered in her ear between her sobs at that cruel beach house. Asked if she would cry for her momma to save her. If only. Her mother wouldn't save her from a burning building. Had she actually said that? Or just thought it?
Lewis caressed her bare stomach slowly. "You spent your life wishing for a better mother. Thinking about how you would do things differently when you had a child. Well, I'm going to give you that chance."
Olivia forgot the pain in her stomach. She forgot the gun's silent threat. She forgot the steady throb in her arm. Her eyes flew to him. She couldn't have heard that right.
Lewis leaned over her, his hot breath barely an inch from her nose. Curiosity twirled with rage in his dark eyes. "Can you picture it? After all this time, you becoming just like your mother."
Her head was shaking. Cries of protest stuck in her throat. Only one made it out. "Never."
He laughed. "That's been your plan, hasn't it? You would never be stuck with your rapist's baby. Unless I take that choice away from you."
Olivia's lips parted. His eyes…she had never seen anything like it. Not directed at her. She had only seen it a handful of times in her years on the force.
"Just think of how much fun we'll have making a baby. Making my son."
He was serious. She searched his gaze frantically, sure that she had missed half a conversation somewhere in these past several days. Words lodged in her throat and formed a blockade. Not even a sound made it out. Her entire body refused to process this.
Lewis took in the terror on her face and decided to take it a step further. "I know you would never keep the baby. I'm no idiot. So I'll keep you around. Make sure you take good care of my son."
She choked on the air her lungs decided to inhale. No. Absolutely not. Of all the men, it would never be Lewis.
"That is after all what you wanted, sweetheart? You wanted me to keep you around because you know how to keep me happy?" his tone turned mocking.
Tears gathered in her eyes. The gravity of her situation fell squarely on her chest. "That's n-not wh-"
Lewis shushed her and pushed her into a sitting position. "Better be careful. Broken ribs can puncture organs. And we need your stomach in one piece. That way Junior can grow big and strong."
The room tilted. Her eyes flew to the front door now just five yards away. She could care less about the gun. She wasn't going to be his prisoner for months. She wasn't going to let him…the thought was too terrible for her brain to finish.
The second Lewis pushed to his feet, she shoved herself off the floor and silenced the pain her body screamed to remind her of. Her feet ran for the door. She would get out or die trying.
Silence filled her hospital room. Detective Carter looked up from her legal pad, her pen paused in mid-air. "What happened next?"
Olivia gave her a hardened look. "I didn't get out."
Barba straightened his tie and took a deep breath.
"You ready?"
He gave a brief nod to Detective Stiles. "Should we wait for your DA?"
"Nah, she's caught up in court all day. This is just a formality anyway. We don't need her yet. NYPD should process charges first. We'll provide supporting evidence and testimonies, but DA Stanton won't need to be officially involved until Jefferson County pursues charges."
Barba picked up his briefcase. "I let Suffolk County know we have him. They want to pursue charges for the Mayers separately."
"This idiot will spend the next two to three years in court," Detective Stiles snorted. "He should just plead guilty. Save us all the trouble."
Barba offered a half smile. "That's not how William Lewis works." He steeled his shoulders and opened the door. He had been waiting helplessly for months while Olivia's coworkers followed dozens of dead ends. His hands had been tied then. But now? Now, it was his turn. And he had months of anger to rely on.
"Wasn't expecting to see you, Mr. Barba."
His nostrils flared at the arrogance reflected on Lewis's face. "You've made quite the mess."
"Have I?" Lewis shrugged with a twinkle in his eyes. "Didn't notice."
Detective Stiles closed the door behind them.
"No Amanda? I'm disappointed." Lewis shifted in the metal chair, the handcuffs rattling against the metal ring. "You both didn't have to come see me. Just takes one person to say you don't have enough to hold me. No hard feelings, fellas."
Detective Stiles shook his head. "Nice try. We're here to inform you that the New York and Jefferson County Police Departments are proceeding with multiple charges. You aren't going anywhere."
Lewis raised an eyebrow, mockery still lining his face. "What do you think you have? A couple robberies?"
Barba slammed his hands down on the table. "Enough! We're not here to play your games, nor are we here to get your statement. I am here informing you that NYPD is charging you with multiple accounts of rape in the first degree, kidnapping, false imprisonment, auto theft, assault on a police officer, and sure, yeah – I'll throw in those robberies you mentioned."
Lewis's smile faded. "She's awake."
"We have everything we need to pursue charges." Detective Stiles leaned against the wall, his relief showing in his relaxed shoulders. "Jefferson County is charging you with multiple accounts of kidnapping, rape, and murder. We found Allison Bryant, Stephanie Culvert, and Veronica Moore. And with Detective Benson's help, we will surely find Bridget and Marcy. And any others you took."
Lewis barely acknowledged the update. "How is she?"
Barba rolled his eyes. "You don't get a status report on her."
"She's been out for awhile. It's been four days since-"
"Since we found her? Since you lost against the entire state of New York?" Detective Stiles interjected.
Lewis narrowed his eyes but turned his attention back to Barba. "How's the baby?"
"I'm not telling you a thing."
"She is still pregnant then." Smugness settled into Lewis's face. "I knew it."
Barba shook his head. "I'm here with a one-time offer. You plead guilty to all charges, and I'll request you carry out your life sentence at Rikers. We go to court, and I'll request Bredford. It's maximum security. You'll spend twenty-three hours of a day in lock down. You'll have no life, no inside jobs like laundry to make your day go by faster. You will live the most restricted life possible. Show you what it's like when someone else makes all your decisions for you."
Lewis laughed. "Life in prison? If I wouldn't do four years for that stupid old lady, you think I'm gonna give you life behind bars? You're out of your mind."
"Your DNA is everywhere. We have multiple eye witnesses –"
"You have eye witnesses? Of what exactly?" Lewis sat forward, the amusement back in his expression. "You have an eye witness of me kidnapping Detective Benson? You have videos of me keeping her hostage these past few months? You have a witness who saw me rape her multiple times? What, was someone hiding in a closet or something?"
Detective Stiles narrowed his eyes, understanding the hatred that NYPD had for the scumbag. "We have more than enough to put you away for life. And that's just with NYPD's charges. By the time all three of us get done with you, you'll only see the sun through bars."
"Three, huh? It's a party."
Barba huffed. "I'm more than willing to fight this in court. This plea is a one-time offer. You're not highly thought of in this state. The kidnapping has been all over the news."
"Finding a jury should be fun," Lewis countered.
Barba grabbed his briefcase. "Enjoy getting a public defender. You'll need one."
"I'll tell you what," Lewis threw out as Barba reached the door. "I'll plead guilty on one condition."
"You don't have anything to bargain with."
Lewis narrowed his eyes. "I'm not the one that needs to bargain."
"You wouldn't be dumb enough to threaten an ADA in a police station, would you?" Detective Stiles interjected.
Barba met Lewis's steady gaze. They both knew Barba wasn't the one being threatened.
"I want to see my son."
"What son?" Barba gave a quizzical look. "Visitation is at the discretion of the prison warden."
"You know that's not what I mean." Lewis tightened his jaw. "I'll plead guilty on the condition I am guaranteed parental rights."
"To what?" Barba implored. "If you're making demands, which is incredibly stupid of you, at least be specific so I know how to refuse it."
"You really need me to spell it out for you?" Lewis's voice turned harsh, offering a peek into his temper. "I want to be listed as the father on the birth certificate."
"Of what?"
"When Olivia has the baby, she lists me as his father." Lewis leaned back. "And I want a guaranteed visit once a month. Write those terms into the plea deal, and I'll plead guilty to anything you want."
"You're out of your mind," Barba laughed. "Just turn down the plea deal. No need to make up crazy terms."
"You forget I know about the law," Lewis commented slowly. "You are required to tell her about the terms of this plea deal."
Barba's lips thinned as he moved back towards the door. "She'll never have the baby. You're wasting my time, and your breath."
"She's still pregnant, though," Lewis countered with a knowing smile.
"Detective Benson is recovering in the hospital. I'm sure as soon as she is released, terminating the pregnancy will be her utmost priority."
"What if it's not?"
Barba narrowed his eyes and turned back to Lewis.
Lewis offered a cocky grin. "She was pretty protective of a clump of cells she is planning on 'terminating,' " he mocked.
"You don't know anything." Barba opened the door as Detective Stiles moved to start the booking process.
"Oh, but I do. If she keeps the baby and turns down this deal, I'll destroy her in court. After all, if I really held her hostage all this time – what kind of woman would decide to keep the baby? I'll turn it around and use it to prove our time together was consensual. Then I'll be a free man fighting for full custody of our son."
Barba spun on his heel to face Lewis, righteous anger burning through him. It was beyond a moot point, he knew the baby would never be carried to term. Even still, the idea of Lewis bargaining the fate of an innocent child made his blood boil.
"And if she actually goes through with it? If she kills my son?" Lewis steeled his gaze. "She'll have killed the last opportunity she has to be a mother. I'm sure I can spin that effectively in court."
Detective Stiles moved in between the battling men, blocking the source of Barba's rage.
"You may think you know Olivia. But you don't. Not like I do. She may not want to, but she will keep my son if only to prove she can be a better mom than her own mother was."
Barba shook his head in disgust and walked out. He couldn't even dignify that with a response.
Olivia twirled the spaghetti with her fork before letting it fall back to the plate. The dull ache she had adjusted to in her left wrist seemed to throb more intently with the latest information her doctor provided. They wanted to do yet another procedure. After they fixed her burns, after her feet healed, after the optional abortion everyone was tiptoeing around…now her stupid arm needed to be fixed. Those wretched handcuffs. They weren't meant to be worn for weeks. Or days. They were meant for hours. Not months.
"Are you up for your favorite visitor?"
She jumped, causing the plate of spaghetti to turn sideways.
"I'm sorry," Barba muttered as he hurried to pick up the plate. "I didn't want to knock too loud in case you were sleeping, but I guess it was too quiet. I didn't mean to –"
"It's fine," Olivia muttered, trying to pick up the slippery noodles. Her left fingers wouldn't close all the way. She had never noticed it before. Then again, Lewis hadn't given her much chance to use her hands.
Barba cursed at the new stain decorating her sheets. "I'll go call for the nurse to bring new blankets."
"No!"
He raised an eyebrow at the defensive tone. "You'll get spaghetti sauce all over you."
Olivia's brow furrowed. She had seen enough medical professionals in the last few hours. She had no desire for another one. "There's blankets in the cabinet by the sink. If you could grab one, it would cover the stain. That way we don't have to bother anyone."
Barba saw the guarded expression on her face and relented. He quickly retrieved the gray blanket and handed it to her. Exhaustion showed in the slow way she grabbed it. The stilted way she unfolded the blanket. Sadness weighted her shoulders down like a cement block was tied to her. He needed to get her talking. "Did the doctors say when you can leave? I heard Brian is frantically cleaning his apartment."
Olivia shook her head, a small part of her realizing the amusement of Brian needing several days to clean what was surely a tornado wrecked apartment. She quickly shut the door on her emotions before a smile leaked out. The doctors had told her a lot of things, but no one was talking about letting her leave. It seemed she was still a prisoner. She had replaced one angry warden with a dozen, albeit sympathetic, but equally firm wardens. Every day came with new restrictions and new injuries the doctors had found. Or maybe they had found all the injuries in the beginning and were trying to spread out her treatment plan to avoid overwhelming her. They were failing miserably.
"I heard they patched up your feet," Barba offered, trying his best to brighten the conversation. "And the new medicine they have you on, is it helping?"
Olivia pursed her lips. She wasn't in the mood for small talk. She wasn't in the mood for any kind of talk, really. "Where have you been?" It had not escaped her notice that she hadn't seen him in over twenty-four hours. Between giving her statement this morning and the latest medical news, she was thoroughly fed up with the day.
Barba didn't comment on the sting in her words. "I had to start the paperwork for the trial."
Olivia stiffened. "You saw him?"
"I had to."
She met his troubled gaze and didn't offer a comment.
"We don't have to talk about this now. You look tired. Why don't you get some rest, and we'll go over details tomorrow."
Olivia's brow furrowed. "Details? It hasn't even started. How can there be details?"
Barba shook his head. "We'll talk about it tomorrow."
"Barba," her voice took a pleading tone. She hadn't meant to. Pleading had become her way of life. The way she stayed alive. Lewis loved the begging. It had become her second nature.
"You won't like it." Barba's jaw tightened. He shouldn't have come. He should have waited till morning.
"That hasn't stopped anyone so far," Olivia replied flatly.
"It's just Lewis making idle threats because he wants to make the trials as complicated as possible."
"Trials? Threats?" Olivia's voice rose. "There's going to be more than one trial?"
"Not for you," Barba quickly clarified. "For the other things. Suffolk County and Jefferson County are handling the crimes he committed in their jurisdiction. Since he took you from Manhattan, everything he did to you will be covered in one trial."
"I'll have to testify in the other trials." It wasn't a question. The cop in her knew the answer.
"We're doing everything we can to avoid that."
"There's a plea offer, then."
Barba shook his head. "Not a valid one. Lewis is adding in things that he knows won't happen to delay the trial."
"Like what?" Olivia stiffened. She couldn't imagine the demands he would make when looking at life in prison.
Barba refused to meet her gaze. "It's not a big deal. We can talk about it la-"
"Just tell me," Olivia grounded out. She knew it had to be a big deal, or he wouldn't be delaying the conversation.
He took a deep breath and looked at the ceiling for strength before focusing back on Olivia. "He thinks you're carrying the pregnancy to term."
She shouldn't be surprised by this. Lewis talked about the baby every chance he had. In some small way, she thought he may actually care about this thing. "What does that have to do with the trial?"
Barba steeled himself. "He wants parental rights. Monthly visitation."
Her heart stopped. Her lungs froze. The room tilted until her head wanted to explode. "Paren…visitation?" She couldn't form complete sentences.
"It's not a big deal. Once you have the abortion, we'll take a notarized letter to his attorney about the fetus no longer being viable. He'll have nothing to bargain with then."
Her eyes rounded. An abortion? No longer viable? They needed it to happen to proceed with the trial? She hadn't even…Olivia lowered her eyes to her lap. Her arms were wrapped around her belly. When had that happened? She didn't recall telling her arms to do that.
Her belly seemed bigger without the white belt. They had removed it a few hours ago. Both doctors said she was stable enough they no longer needed the constant monitoring. Olivia wasn't entirely sure if they were talking about her or her daughter.
Barba felt his pulse rise at the stillness in Olivia. "You are planning on having an abortion? Aren't you?"
It was worded as a question. It wasn't a question. He was the first person to directly ask her about the plan. "I can't have it for a few weeks."
"You're avoiding the question."
Olivia swallowed hard. She had a hundred reasons to get rid of the baby. A literal hundred. She had a new medical problem every day. She had no money. She had no home. Didn't know if she still had a job. Didn't know if she still wanted that job. And then there was the matter of how she became pregnant.
"Olivia," Barba implored, concern etched into his face. "You can't seriously be thinking about having his baby."
"She's my baby too." Her heart dropped. She shouldn't have said that. Shouldn't have thought it.
Barba fell into the seat beside her. Lewis's taunts flooded his memory. "This has something to do with your mom."
Olivia shook her head, the faithful tears starting to gather in her eyes. "I don't know. I just…don't know what to do." More tears came, and everything shattered. Her resolve to stay alive was no longer needed. Her resolve to fight no longer required. Her wall to keep everyone out crumbled. And she fell into a million pieces.
Barba slowly reached for her, unsure of her response. Olivia was too emotional to care. Her wounded cries broke his heart. Barba's arms reached around her and gently held his friend. His own tears trickled down his face. He could never understand the torment Lewis put her through. But he was witnessing the affects for the first time. He steeled his jaw. Barba would make him pay for every tear. And there were so, so many tears.