A/N: Here you go, the chapter you've all been waiting for :) Enjoy!
THE MORNING AFTER - CHAPTER 7
"Lindsay?"
Danny stood some twenty feet behind her, panting slightly as he searched her with his eyes. Lindsay knelt near the bed, unmoving, the gun still at her temple and finger over the trigger. He regained control of his breathing only to hold it.
Silence.
An icy claw gripped his heart, and he tried again. "Lindsay?"
She shifted ever so slightly, but Danny's quick eye caught the movement and he released the pent-up air in a silent sigh of relief. She had been so still that he could have sat down right beside her and not know if she was dead or alive. However, she was not out of danger yet, and Danny knew it.
"Montana, put the gun down." He spoke in a low voice, intentionally drawing out the words.
Lindsay remained frozen. Then, swift as flash, she jumped to her feet and pointed the gun at him with burning eyes. Danny's hands instinctively flew up, palms out, and his heart stopped for a split second. He had been in this position before, but never with Lindsay.
"Lindsay, give me the gun. You don't have to do this."
"Stop talking! I don't want to hear any more of your lies!" It was clear Lindsay was not in her right mind, and Danny feared that the rape had completely taken over her brain. Holding his arms up higher, he spoke in a calm voice.
"Listen to me. Put the gun down an' we can talk about this. C'mon, put the gun on the floor."
Fear swiftly rising – and keeping a wary eye on Danny – she placed the gun back at her temple. Very slowly padding over, Danny stood in front of her, gaze fixated on hers. She stared back at him, boring into his soul, and didn't budge when his hand slid over hers. No words were spoken as he pushed down firmly but gently, never once taking his eyes off her. With each painstaking inch the gun was lowered, until finally it was in his hand. Danny's fingers did all the work; they gripped around Lindsay's own digits and carefully pried them from the weapon. Lindsay never blinked once, though Danny saw a whirlpool of terror swirling in her chocolate eyes. He moved slowly and carefully, not wanting to startle her and accidentally set off the gun. The minute her hand was free, he snatched the gun and quickly put the safety on.
Lindsay blinked, as if seeing him for the first time, and broke down completely. Danny stopped himself from wrapping his arms around her, and instead sat there and patiently let her release all her demons. He hoped she would at least let them discuss the matter, as he was not keen on being pushed away again.
"He's going to find me," she sobbed, temporarily forgetting her previous nightmare. "He's going to come back and kill me."
"Who, Lindsay? Tell me who did this to you. I can't help you unless you tell me. You won't get in trouble."
She shook her head, causing a tear to fling onto Danny's arm. "He knows I'm pregnant and wants the baby. I can't tell you, Danny. He'll find out."
He couldn't take it any longer. Placing his fingers under her chin, he lifted her head gently so they were eye-to-eye. Frustration boiled in his veins, and he spoke in a firm tone in hopes of getting his message across.
"Lindsay Monroe, listen to me very carefully. I vow that whoever did this to you will not get away with it. We are doing everything we possibly can to make sure he is caught. Right now your main focus should be the child you are carrying."
She looked at him intently. "What if it's his?"
Danny knew it was the wrong time to tell her the other possibility, so he kept it hidden for now. "Are you prepared to care for a child?"
"I…I don't know."
---
Mac paced back and forth anxiously, waiting for Hawkes to complete the process of signaling out any trace from the cellphone they had confiscated from the victim's apartment. It was a tense situation; one phone number could lead them to the rapist. Then all that was needed was a warrant for a DNA sample or confession to finally bring this whole case to rest.
"Alright, we've got something here." Hawkes typed some data into the computer and let his finger run over the screen. "Our victim's name is Amber Lenovo. Two nights ago she received a phone call from another cell." A birds-eye view of Manhattan appeared on the screen, and within seconds technology took over. A few moments passed, and the system was able to pinpoint the location from where the call was made.
Mac's eyes lit up as the words '3rd Avenue' flashed on the screen. He could barely blink before the next piece of information appeared: Matt Branson.
"We've got him."
---
Against her will, Lindsay had been admitted to the psychiatric ward in Angel of Mercy. Danny, concerned that she would attempt suicide again and be successful, literally dragged her to the hospital. She had to be restrained by several NYPD officers, but Danny knew that being under professional care would help the recovery process. He had already been informed that Mac and the others had finally tracked down the location of the victim's mystery caller, but he was focused on getting Lindsay to where she needed to be. He would leave for interrogation only after she settled down, but there was an important matter to discuss with Dr. Evans first.
"Sooner or later you'll have to talk to her about this, although I'm worried that her mental health will put the child at risk."
Danny rubbed the side of his neck with a nervous hand. "There is a possibility that I'm the biological father. Would it help if she knew?"
"It might calm her down a bit, but she could still be a danger to you and the child."
"What are the options?" He dreaded asking this question.
Dr. Evans took off his glasses and studied the younger man carefully. "At this stage, I think it would be best if the child were put up for adoption. Lindsay is not prepared to carry such a burden, and it could take years before the symptoms begin to fade. Every rape victim is different. The only other option I can give you is abortion, although that should be our last resort."
"But what if DNA concludes that it's mine? Couldn't we keep the child instead of adoption?" Danny pressed harder now.
"I can give you suggestions, Detective Messer, but in the end it is up to you and Lindsay."
---
"Matt Branson, NYPD!"
Flack banged on the door a second time, quickly growing impatient. With a nod, one of the cops smashed the wood to pieces with a single kick. They flooded in, guns brandished and eyes darting back and forth like angry wasps. Tightening his grip on his weapon, Mac surveyed the seemingly empty apartment. But Marine training had served him well, and his keen instincts told him that something was amiss.
A shutter clanged shut, startling both detectives. Flack peered out the window, catching a glimpse of someone bolting up the metal stairs towards the roof. Acting swiftly, he took chase, calling back to Mac, "He's running to the top!"
Despite being older than his comrades, Mac was incredibly agile. Darting back to the door, he headed for the interior stairway, hoping to catch the suspect off guard with his surprise entrance.
Matt scrambled up the stairs, chancing a peek at the detective who was swiftly gaining ground on him. He cursed under his breath; this guy was quick. Finally making it onto the roof, he sprinted across the flat surface, panting slightly as he attempted to lose the pursuing cop.
Flack, however, was not to be outdone. Leaping onto the roof, he saw Matt some distance ahead, arms flailing from side to side as he ran. Instinctively knowing that Mac was in the chase, he went into overdrive and put on a burst of speed, calling out to the suspect as he did. "Hey, NYPD!"
Matt, like all criminals, ignored the command and continued his escape. With a sudden whoosh, the air was knocked from his lungs as someone tackled him from the side. Pain immediately shot through his body, and he glared up into the burning eyes of Mac, who had appeared from nowhere. Disregarding the ache, Matt lunged to bite him, but the former Marine was ready and he dodged the suspect's bared teeth. Laying an arm across the back of his neck, Mac finally managed to restrain him, leaning most of his weight on the one knee that was placed on Matt's lower back.
"Let me go!"
Mac snorted in disgust. "Shut up. We know what you've done, so I suggest you be quiet unless you want to get into even more trouble."
The younger man was furious, and he let Mac know it. "You've got nothing on me!"
With Flack's assistance, Mac hauled him up and slammed him against the concrete side that housed the stairs, hissing in his ear, "We've got everything on you, Matt Branson. You have the right to remain silent, so be smart and use it!"