NOTE: I'll start off by saying that I apologize for NOTHING! Okay fine, I apologize for the cliffhanger. Kinda. As a warning, this is a very Olivia and Jones heavy chapter but I think people will like it. Olivia is such a badass. Thanks again to everyone who's reviewed, liked, clicked that follow button, etc., you guys are the best! TW: Violence and discussions of rape.

"The easy way or the hard way?"

"The easy way."

The cold fury that had taken over Albert's face melted into a wide, sinister smile at her words but Olivia barely noticed; her mind was going a mile a minute, grasping for straws, for anything she could use to throw him off. Think Olivia! Think!

Unfortunately, this meant she was unprepared as he pushed the hair back from her face. Somehow she held her ground, barely flinching as she physically bit her tongue to keep from groaning aloud.

"I like the easy way. I knew we'd get here eventually, Olivia." He looked revoltingly smug. "But then again, so did you. I mean you had to know this was coming when you woke up in my car. Right?" He cocked his head at her expectantly.

She said nothing. He was wrong. Denial had been her friend in that car.

His eyes searched her face as he frowned, "Hmm… Guess not." His voice dripped with insincere pity, "Sorry about that, Olivia. False hope's a bitch, huh?" A mocking pout twisted his face. He paused just taking her in before suddenly clapping his hands together with excitement, "Alright! Enough talk. Let's get this party started, Detective!"

Her eyes widened with alarm as he turned around to the bag on the table, panic taking over as she frantically pulled on her restraints. The tape held strong; it was clearly too thick around her wrists and ankles to break. As he turned back to face her she froze, her eyes immediately drawn to the knife in his hand which glinted threateningly under the fluorescent lighting.

Sweat began to pour down her back as she looked up at him with confusion, "W-What, no, I said the easy way!"

Jones rolled his eyes at her before looking down to admire the blade as he turned it over in his hands, "You did, didn't you…?"

He moved quickly. Too quickly. Before she could comprehend it, the cold metal was against her throat and Olivia's heart was about to fail. She didn't dare breathe.

"The next time you bite me," he hissed in her ear as he applied more pressure, the blade close, too close, to her jugular, "I won't hesitate." He didn't immediately pull the knife away, letting the words sink in as he watched her struggle to breathe.

Her heart was in her throat, her eyes tearing up as a small voice broke through the haze of panic in her mind. He's bluffing. He didn't use a knife on the others.

The others…

Satisfied by the fear in her eyes, Jones pulled the metal away from her neck. Olivia immediately doubled over gasping for air. She was still panting when the question burst out of her before she could stop herself, "Why—" her voice cut off as she sucked in a breath, "Why didn't you drug me?"

Albert's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What?"

She sat back up her face flushed, "Why didn't you drug me? The others... you drugged them. Ketamine, right?"

He couldn't seem to stop himself as he answered, eager to set her straight, "Would you accept a drink from a stranger, Detective Benson?" he asked, emphasizing her title with a scornful eye-roll. He took her silence as an answer, "Yeah, that's what I thought."

Olivia schooled her expression, hiding her confusion. Even then, if he wanted to drug me, he'd find a way… This just didn't add up.

"Besides," he added, "little Heather proved chloroform would do fine."

She couldn't hide her surprise. He didn't use ketamine on their latest vic? And the way he'd said that… Heather proved chloroform would do fine? The implications there were chilling. Had he been preparing for her?

"But why—?"

"But whyyy?" he mocked, his voice high and obnoxious, real irritation showing on his face, "Shut up, Olivia."

She knew she should listen but if she could just figure out why… A hint of desperation crept into her voice, "I just—!"

Jones's eyes flashed as his temper flared, "Enough! Stop stalling. You can't stop this."

He dropped to a crouch before her as they locked eyes. His expression was unlike any he'd had before; his eyes were dead and cold with none of the mocking humor she'd grown to expect. The effect was unnerving, sending a shiver down her spine.

His voice was low and quiet, "When I cut you out of this chair, you will do what I say, when I say it. Got it?"

Olivia swallowed heavily as she nodded. He kept his eyes on her face for a beat before a smirk slowly spread across his face. "Good."

The sound of the duct tape ripping broke the heavy silence as he slashed the knife through the bonds around her left ankle. He eyed her, daring her to move. She didn't. His grin grew as he repeated the process on her right ankle. Before she could stop to think, instinct had her jerking backward as he brought the knife towards her forearm.

"I wouldn't do that…" His voice was light and filled with amusement, "You'll want to hold still for this, Olivia. I'd hate to accidentally slip and slit your wrists."

She froze. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the arms of the chair; she couldn't help but squeeze her eyes shut, biting her lip as he sliced through the duct tape taping her wrists down in two swift movements. Her eyes shot open moments later as he ripped the tape off her bare arms. Despite the pain, she didn't make a noise as she fought back the tears prickling in her eyes.

This was it. Olivia was free.

From the chair at least. Jones rose slowly from his crouching position until he was looming above her. His eyes shone with a malicious curiosity that dared her to make a move, a look that despite her paralyzing fear, grated on her nerves. They waged a silent war, her eyes narrowing, flicking down to the knife in his hand. A small voice of reason broke over her anger, Don't. Realization hit her hard. Compliance. He gets off on compliance. Give him what he wants.

She swallowed her pride and allowed her expression to grow despondent before dropping her head to her chest. It was the right move.

"Finally!" He slammed the knife onto the table with a grin as she jumped, "That's more like it!" He sounded disgustedly triumphant, "See, I knew you had it in you, Detective. Now," his eyes grew dark as he picked the gun up from the table and pointed it at her, "Get up."

All she saw was the gun. Oh god. This was really happening. A dizzying combination of fear and naive disbelief kept her rooted to the spot before Olivia tore her eyes from the weapon in his hand to desperately scan the room, searching for an escape she knew wasn't there. She was trapped: a table and a dangerous serial rapist with a gun stood between her and the only exit.

Barely concealed anger crept into Albert's voice, "I'm not going to ask you again, Olivia."

"Okay," Olivia's voice shook as she rose slowly from the chair with her hands held up in surrender, "Okay, let's not—"

His eyes gleamed as he cut her off, "Shut up. You're done talking."

Shit. Every one of her muscles tensed as his eyes lazily wandered down her body. Her skin was crawling even as she turned her head in a pitiful attempt to hide her discomfort. Her instincts were screaming at her to run, to do something: terrible anticipation gnawed at her stomach. Somehow, the most rational part of her once again whispered at her. Wait for it. Not yet.

His voice was soft, "Oh, wow... Just look at you."

Bile rose in the back of her throat. Ignore it. Focus.

"See this," he motioned at her frozen body with the gun, "oh god, this is why I couldn't drug you, Olivia. Where's the fun in that?" He slowly approached her as he continued, "The others, ah they were fine but there's something to be said for actually making you do what I say. Weepy and fucked up got boring real quick."

She pushed her disgust aside as she watched his approach, carefully noting his height and build, weighing it against her stiff limbs and aching head. It would be a fair fight—well, as fair as it could be. I can take him. An opening, all I need is an opening.

He was standing in front of her now, an arms-length away. He paused, his head cocked to the side as he examined her face with a small smile. "But this... This is going to be good. Take off your clothes."

She balked at his words, just staring back at him with shocked disbelief. His grin grew.

He shrugged at her stunned silence, "Or I can. Your choice."

An opening.

"You do it."

His eyebrows shot up in surprise, "Excuse me?"

He wants complicit? I'll give him complicit.

"I will not take my clothes off for you. I won't." She swallowed heavily but held her ground as fury crossed his features, his eye twitching, his jaw clenching, his grip on the gun tightening. "I won't."

"Really detective?" His voice was dangerously low and incredulous, "Do we really need to have this conversation again?"

It was coming soon, she could feel it; his composure was slipping. Just a little more. She squared her jaw, defiance written all over her face, "I don't care. I won't be complicit."

"Wrong answer."

Now.

Years of experience kicked in as his muscles tensed. Olivia ducked just in time to feel the rush of air as his fist clutching the gun whipped violently over her head. It missed her by an inch. Jones seemed to have forgotten the gun in his anger or perhaps shooting her had never been on the table but Olivia didn't care as she rammed her elbow into his side. Unfortunately for her, he remained steadfast and managed to grab her by the collar of her shirt. He let out a snarl of rage as he yanked her towards him but it quickly devolved into a howl of pain as she managed to clip his chin, snapping his head back. He reflexively let go of her and before he could recover his balance, Olivia slammed into him, letting gravity do the rest. To her incredible relief, he went crashing into the table behind him. She heard rather than saw the gun in his hand fell to the floor with a dull metallic thunk against the concrete as she bolted towards the door. She even didn't wait for her eyes to adjust as she plunged into the night.

The last thing she heard before the door closed was the sound of his demented laugh.

"Very funny Rollins," Barba snapped, "I'm coming. You can't stop me." His face was thunderous as he glared at the detective. She obviously didn't know who she was dealing with. Over his dead body was he staying behind.

Amanda gave him a sympathetic grimace as she grabbed her jacket and phone from her desk, "Barba be realistic—"

"I'll follow you," he warned. Her eyebrows shot up, disbelief all over her face. His scowl grew deeper. "I'm serious Rollins."

"Barba you're not a—"

"Not a what?" he asked. "A cop? Wow, I had no idea."

She shot him a look, "Look, that's not helping—"

Barba threw his hands up in exacerbation, "Neither is me staying here!"

"But—"

"Just let him go, Amanda." They both jumped at his voice, turning to find Munch standing there. Relief washed over Rafael with an intensity that stole his breath. Barba could've kissed the man.

"Are you sure?" Rollins asked skeptically.

"Yes." His tone left no room for argument. On second thought he turned to Rafael, "Just don't get in the way, Barba," he added.

"Of course." He'd get in the fucking trunk if it meant he could be there for Olivia.

It was Munch's turn to look desperate, "And keep me updated. Please. The captain needs me here to run things."

"I will." The two men nodded at each other before Barba turned to Amanda. "Rollins?"

She'd been watching the interaction with curiosity. "Fine. I'll get you a vest."

Rafael gave her a significant look, "Thank you."

Amanda waved it away, "It's fine. Let's just get her back."

"We will." They had to.

"Yeah… We will."

Jones picked himself and the gun up from the floor with a small grunt of pain. Oh, Olivia was good. He had to give her that. As he took in the mess she'd made, he scowled. His body had knocked the table over sending everything on it flying. Might as well clean up first. Let her think he'd been knocked out or something.

She almost did knock you out, his bruised ego was quick to remind him. His scowl deepened. It was true. She'd almost knocked him out. She'd fucking humiliated him. His anger flared. You know what? This mess can wait. He wanted her now.

Where's that damn flashlight—"Agh!"

As he bent down to pick it up, another groan of pain slipped out. He wasn't sure what hurt more, the fact he'd have a nasty bruise or the fact he let that happen in the first place.

He should've known… Baiting him like that had been clever of her. Running, however… Idiotic. He knew the area. If he didn't kill her, the forest would. The rocky area was treacherous to navigate even in daylight let alone in the black of night.

Not that he wanted to kill her of course. What he'd told her was true. He didn't mean to kill the others, really. He just… saw red. He didn't want to kill her but if he was being honest… With the rage currently bubbling away in his stomach, Olivia Benson had no chance of survival. Oh well.

He opened the door, breathing in the brisk air before flipping the flashlight on. As the lines of trees before him were illuminated, he smirked, setting off into the night with a cold sense of purpose.

Now Rafael knew why Amaro complained about riding with Rollins. Even for driving with the lights on, she went fast. Not that he could complain too much about that under the circumstances.

"How close are we?" he asked her, compulsively checking his watch.

"I swear to god, Barba, I'm going to kill you," Amanda's shoulders were to her ears; Rafael's anxious interrogation on the drive down had only rubbed off on her, leaving her stomach in knots.

He was unfazed. "Well?" he prompted.

"About an hour."

He fell silent as his eyelids closed. Amanda watched out the corner of her eye as he seemed to be taking deep breaths. Barba was barely keeping it together.

An hour. The things that can happen in an hour... Why did it have to be so long? We're coming Liv. We're coming.

No matter how much he wanted to, Jones just couldn't even be annoyed at how long this was taking. The anticipation, the hunt, imagining her hiding scared was intoxicating. He'd tracked down her trail with ease but she'd managed to make it farther than he expected. No matter though. He was close, he could feel it. The terrain was getting rougher and more difficult. She couldn't have made it much farther than here.

The light of the flashlight on the dark trees cast huge shadows along the forest floor but Albert could see fairly well as he crept along through the trees. The ground was starting slope downwards; he swept the flashlight along the ground. It wouldn't do to slip on the slick pine needles or small rocks after all. Jesus Christ where is she? He paused as he leaned against a tree, running his hand along his bruised side. The pain and his impatience were officially starting to sour his mood.

"Agh!"

His head jerked to the right. There! That was her! Giddy excitement flooded through his body as he stalked towards the noise. He could hear her trying to stifle groans of pain as he pointed the flashlight down the slope until—"A-ha!"

Olivia was sat in the dirt swaying and clutching her head with an expression of acute pain on her face. He began the climb down, watching with delight and amusement as she struggled to stand, her skin unusually pale. When her body finally collapsed just over a foot away from him, he let out a bark of laughter. Oh yeah. She wasn't getting anywhere soon. And—Oh, gross. His nose wrinkled with disgust as she violently threw up. The delicious rush of power as he dragged her up from the ground more than made up for it, however. He prodded the wound on the back of her head. It was bleeding heavily but it didn't look fatal. The sound of her little cry of pain sent lust surging downwards as he addressed her smugly.

"You really did a number on yourself, Detective Benson," he mocked, "I did tell you not to run."

To his surprise she spoke, her words surprisingly clear and sarcastic, "Yeah well, can you blame me?"

His smirk grew wider. I knew I chose her for a reason. "Ha! No, I can't say I can. You know," he said conversationally, "I was worried about switching things up with you, but I think I like you mouthy."

"You're welcome then."

He started dragging her back up the slope, eyeing her suspiciously. "You really did hit your head hard, huh Detective?"

The feeling of her struggling against him only excited him as he yanked her up the slope. By the time he reached the top, she was out cold. His lips twisted into a smirk. One last hike and she was his.

When he finally exited the trees thirty-odd minutes later, Olivia was still out cold and he was panting and swearing but buzzing with the sweet combination of lust and anticipation. Unfortunately for him, however, in his excitement, he missed the far-off sound of tires on gravel...

I promise! Everything will resolve in the next chapter! I won't drag shit out unnecessarily because I kNOW how annoying that is. That said, it may mean the next chapter is super long and therefore may need a while for me to write... Just a warning.