"Isabelle," a voice spoke as the young woman walked into her own apartment. She knew she shouldn't be there but she needed to go back to pick up some more of her clothes. Her father had been adamant that she was to stay with him as the man after her was still on the loose much to her dismay. Little did she know he was waiting for her in her own apartment.

"Oh God," she complained as she moved over to the door again and he reached her, wrapping his arm around her wrist as she turned around and flung her fist at him only for it to be caught in his other hand.

"Now, now Isabelle," he made a tut noise and the young blonde tried to snap her arms from his hold. "I've been waiting for you here for a while...but you've been having me followed, haven't you?"

"I haven't," she spat back at him.

"Sorry," he rolled his eyes. "Daddy has been having me tracked...but they haven't found me yet and now here I am."

"What do you want?" she asked him simply. "I have the money if that is what is driving you to this?"

"I've thought of a better way to make your life a misery," he insisted and dragged her over to her sofa, settling her down as he hit her across the cheek.

"Now," he said, pushing her down, straddling her by the hips as she shuffled under his weight, unable to believe what was happening, "I've been thinking about how to make your life a misery."

"You've been doing that for the past week," she complained, pushing but not moving him from her as he produced a needle from his jacket pocket and her eyes went wide and she shook her head. "No," she hissed. "Keep that from me!"

"Why Isabelle?" he wondered. "Don't you want to face a relapse?"

"Marcus," she pleaded. "Don't do this...I'll give you the money back...I swear I will..."

"You've promised me a great many things Miss Daniels...I've never seen them taken care of."

"I don't want this," Isabelle choked out, her voice faint and her breathing shallow as she did so.

"But I want to watch," Marcus whispered into her ear and he finally placed the needle into her arm and her eyes closed, tears fell down her eyes as he injected the heroin into her veins, his face lighting up as her body went limp with the immediate effect. "There...that should be enough to help you relapse..."

"Jesus Christ," Isabelle moaned as the effect took over her body and Marcus climbed off from her and checked his watch.

"You remember my number for more Isabelle," Marcus declared. "You'll need it."

Isabelle watched him leave the room and she shook her head, clenching her left arm up and moving from the sofa, stumbling over to her bag as she pulled out her cell phone, hitting in the numbers which she needed.

"Cary," she spoke into the phone. "I need you."

...

Cary drove as fast as he could from his office at the State's Attorney and he kept checking his watch, wondering how long it would be until he was at her apartment. He finally got there and parked his car, jumping from it and locking it up, noticing he wasn't parked completely in the lines but not giving a care in the world. With haste he pushed open the doors on his way and knocked onto her door, shuffling his foot before she opened it.

"What happened?" he asked her, his hand going onto hers as she took hold of his, her eyes sobbing and her body shaking.

"He...I had no choice Cary..." she cried. "He made me...I took the heroin Cary..."

"How much have you had?" he asked her.

"Enough..." she said. "I'm a recovering addict...it made me feel relaxed Cary...it helped me."

"No," Cary said sternly. "It didn't. It did nothing."

"Yes it did," she argued. "I need more."

She tried to push past him but he wrapped his arm around her waist quickly, dragging her further into her apartment as he kicked the door shut and she struggled against him.

"This is what he wants Is," Cary spoke quickly and softly to her. "You don't need it...you don't need it..."

"I do Cary," she spoke quietly. "He has it and I know where he'll be."

"You're not going anywhere Isabelle," Cary said to her. "You're going to stay here and do the right thing."

"You don't know how hard it is," she snapped at him. "You don't know how good it made me feel!"

"I know I don't know!" Cary yelled back at her. "And I don't want to know and I'm not going to let you relapse. Do you understand me?"

"You don't tell me what to do!" Isabelle yelled, pushing him from her as they tussled and he managed to fall to the ground, trapping Isabelle under his weight as he looked at her and she stopped fighting him.

"Don't do this Is," he whispered.

"I can't help it," she muttered. "I can't do this Cary...not again..."

"I'm here," he promised her. "I'm here."

...

"Try and sleep," Cary advised her as she shuffled around on his lap and he held her tightly, making sure she couldn't go anywhere as she couldn't stay still. One moment she was grasping onto his shirt and the next her hands were balled up and resting on her lap, hitting her thigh.

"I can't do it," she muttered. "I can't sleep."

"You're not going anywhere," Cary snapped at her. "You're going to sleep and get over this. You don't have a choice."