WARNING: This chapter is rated M for torture.
Some of the words in Italics are events in the future but belonging to that same chapter.
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It was dark and humid; the smell of rust invading the deep of her soul.
It was small; not a place to contain a human, of course. Much less an adult one.
It was lonely.
It was HELL.
Breathing was uncomfortable. So was sitting or standing. Her limbs ached for release, the fresh cuts on her wrists from the pulling of the shackles begged attention.
She hadn't been here long, but it felt like days. Her clothes reeked of dirt and sweat, her jeans were ragged and ripped. Her hair stuck to her face due to the constantly forming beads of sweat.
The door opened and she flinched, scowling away from the light. Her ankles could barely support her, but she couldn't rise. The shackles were tied down to a low pipe close to the dirty floor.
She sensed a figure approaching her. She knew who he was, alright. But didn't dare make eye contact.
The man crouched down. The woman awaited a scream, a slap, something. But none came. He just stared at her. She closed her eyes when he raised his hand, expectant for the pain. She could feel a few hairs rip off her scalp when he grabbed her moist curls and tugged hard towards himself. There was no compassion for her wounds: not for her swollen eye, or the throbbing gash on her cheek, or the blackening bruises on her arms and legs. She stepped carefully to avoid losing her balance and falling to the ground.
"You need washing," the man said, disgusted by the smell of dirt and sweat. He threw her hair back at her face and stepped back.
"Please," she muttered weakly as he walked away.
"Please what?" the shadow said back dangerously.
The girl cried, unable to keep it together. "I'm sorry," she pleaded, wiping a trail of saliva on her bare shoulder.
The man scoffed, offended. "Too late for that."
The door closed leaving her to darkness again and she cried. They were desperate tears, but quiet ones as well.
How on earth had things come to be like this? And more importantly: how had it all come to be her fault?
Sarah Reese had just hung up her phone, bile rising up in her throat. She dry-heaved once before rushing to the restroom and emptying the contents of her stomach out with violence. Her arms trembled as she struggled to get up from the toilet.
He had Owen. He had…
Fear forced her to vomit once again with more force than before.
She rose and gurgled water from the sink and spit it out weakly. She then coughed as she tried to regain control of the baleful feeling that set on the pit of her stomach.
She glanced at the mirror once and looked down, scared. She didn't recognize herself… this fear reflected on her features that pummeled at her soul and tried to paralyze her. She forced herself to look back up again. She breathed hard and heavy, indulging in a few seconds of complete desperation, feeling the pain, the anger, the fear…
She contemplated her reflection one last time before turning away and exiting the bathroom.
She stood at the center of the immense room in trance, replaying the call she had just made:
"What are you asking? What do you want?!"
"It's called equivalent exchange, Sarah. I want you. You know it's always been you."
Her throat went dry.
"I can't- I-"
"It's your choice, Sarah. You instead of Dr. Manning's son. No police. No friends. No Connor FUCKING Rhodes. JUST. YOU. Simple as that."
Only it wasn't simple. It was anything but simple. She was about to put her life on the line and knew no one would find her. This was the end.
There was no other solution. Tears clouded her vision and her drum-beating heart rattled her thoughts. Steady breathing was impossible. Sweat dripped down her back and forehead, stinging her crazed eyes as she searched around for something… someone… to help her. But there was no one. There was nothing. She was alone.
This was the end indeed.
"When and where?"
She heard Joey's smile through the phone, pleased with her choice of words.
She shook her head and eyed her surroundings as if looking for a solution… a lifeline.
Nothing.
Her phone ringed and she jolted.
Will Halstead. The impending call.
"Hello?"
Why had she answered? If she hadn't, perhaps she would have saved herself screams and cries now engraved on her mind forever.
"Sarah!" Will yelled through desperate screams and crying from a broken woman's faraway voice. "Owen's gone. HE'S GONE! I don't know- I- I can't- I-"
The voice grew smaller as he tried to calm Nat down, who was frantically crying and calling people.
"Please get here…" Will cried. "I can't…" came a despairing plea before he hung up on her.
Hell had broken loose. It was her turn to end it now.
She threw on a tank top and sweatshirt over her and fixed her hair on a ponytail. She put on jeans and shoes before she climbed down the stairs quietly.
She knew the door was locked, but spotted the security panel on the kitchen wall and set herself to disable it. She had to. Otherwise…
"What are you doing?" came a groggy voice from the stairs.
Sarah froze in the middle of the darkness until the lights turned on, revealing a tired Claire, dressed in a black silk robe.
Sarah gulped and sighed, looking down.
"I need to get out."
"What are you talking about?" asked Claire as she wiped sleep away from her face and approached her.
"I mean I can't stay here," Sarah said shakily.
"Why? Is everything okay?" Claire asked concerned. She raised a hand to place it on her shoulder but lowered it when she saw Sarah flinch away.
"I'm not. I seriously need to leave," she replied painfully still not looking at her before hurrying to the door.
"What are you talking about? There's a maniac on the loose waiting to get you alone and you want to leave at 3 in the morning?" asked Claire, baffled.
Sarah shook her head and gritted her teeth. "What I do or don't do is not your business Claire."
Claire walked up to her, confused about her sudden boldness. "You made it my business."
Sarah rolled her eyes and tried opening the door without success.
"You're not leaving," said the black-haired woman firmly. "I don't know what the hell could've possibly happened in the course of an hour, but you're not leaving this house. I won't let you. Not until you tell me what's going on."
Sarah whipped her head. "You won't let me?"
Claire crossed her arms in a daring stance.
"Open the door," Sarah demanded, livid.
"What on earth happened?" Claire retorted, worried. "Everything was fine earlier, why-?
"No, you're wrong, everything was NOT fine," Sarah said to the door.
Claire closed her mouth shut, taken aback.
"What…?"
Sarah felt her insides churn as she turned to face her. She raised her hands in stress, trying to articulate something but lowered them dangerously. She had no time for this. Every second she wasted was one more second that Owen was in danger. She had to be where Joey wanted her to be right now and the only way to do that was getting rid of Claire, no matter how.
"Listen, Claire. I get that I got here and you thought that we could get to know each other and perhaps become friends," Sarah began, getting near her. "We're not. We're far from it. From what your brother has told me, you've done nothing but hurt him and your family," she accused heavily. "Connor found no other way to help me, so this was his last resort. Did you hear me? Last. Resort. I thought I could play along with being nice and all but I can't. I can't do that for the person responsible for my fiancé's sorrow."
Claire stared at her, wide-eyed and confused. "But… I didn't…" began her meek reply.
"Did you think that requesting to see him every year wouldn't hurt him? Bullshit. You've been nothing but selfish. That's who you are. Selfish and self-absorbing. I mean, what did you think?! That seeing him would bring your family back together?! It hasn't. It WON'T. Connor wants NOTHING to do with you."
Claire hung her head down, tears forming in her eyes. "But I… it wasn't my fault."
"Who the hell cares whose fault is it?! You said so yourself, Connor can't even bear to look at you! He wants to forget his past, not relive it every freaking year!" Sarah spat.
She noticed how Claire's spirit began to become smaller, so she attacked again.
"I thought I could do this. I seriously thought so, but I can't. I can't stay with the person who has single-handedly ruined the life of the person I love, and I-"
"Okay."
Sarah closed her mouth. "Okay?" she asked confused.
Claire beheld her again, tears glistening in her eyes and livid.
"You want to leave, then leave. But don't come here and pretend you know me. You don't."
"Open the door," Sarah said one last time. She managed to hide how destroyed she felt for doing that to Claire. There was no way she would see her again, that was for sure. But then again, she would never see anyone ever again. "I'll send for my stuff later."
Claire scoffed. "It'll be waiting for you at the porch."
Claire rolled her eyes and pushed a code on the security panel and the entrance door clicked.
Sarah grabbed the handle and pulled back. She descended the stairs with tears in her eyes, guilty for sounding plausible. She breathed out as she trotted towards the gate, broken.
Alone.
"I thought I liked you, Sarah Reese," Claire's voice followed as she sprinted away and punched numbers on her phone to call an uber.
"I was wrong," Claire's voice said one last time before her door was closed.
Good.
"Here," said the man's voice as he kicked a bucket towards her, splashing her with water in the process. The combination of the liquid and soap burned at her scratches and wounds.
She hissed away as she gritted her teeth, suppressing a scream.
"Wash," he said throwing her a rag. "We're leaving soon."
The woman looked up from her ripped jeans and to face his face, trembling.
"Leaving?"
The man lopsided his head. "We have somewhere to be."
"But I thought-"
"I said WASH!" he bellowed.
She flinched as if burned and nodded, dabbing the rag on the water and cleaning her wounds. He stood there for a few seconds, angry, before shaking his head. He crouched in front of her and held her face.
"Things used to be so different between us," he said with regret.
She didn't answer, the tears leaving her eyes working as a valid answer for him.
He kissed her, hard. She felt disgusted when she felt him sucking on the blood of her cut lip. He let go when breathing became an issue.
"I love you," he said.
She didn't answer.
He stood stunned.
"Say it back."
But she turned away. She still had will in her. She was still free to decide. And she was going to hold on to that freedom. It was what kept her alive.
"Say it back," he insisted, angry.
She looked up at him for a second but didn't say a word.
He growled as he slapped her with force, knocking her down. She felt a fresh cut on the inside of her cheek and spat out blood. But instead of feeling scared or sad, she felt an unfamiliar rage creep its way inside of her. Anger that gave her spirit and a sense of vitality she had forgotten.
"SAY YOU LOVE ME!"
She sighed deeply, spitting the accumulated blood on her mouth again. She shook her head. She knew it would probably kill her, but she was not dying oppressed. If she said she loved him back, it would break her. It would kill her spirit.
He stood perplexed, watching her.
"Fine."
He left the room, and she attempted to get up. She struggled with the shackles, hurting herself even more so in the process. She looked everywhere trying to find a way out, a weapon, something. She inspected the bucket, finding nothing that could help her other than plastic. Her respiration turned ragged when she heard footsteps approaching.
She spent a few minutes struggling with the chains until the door opened, revealing a terrifying scene.
"No… No, please no! PLEASE, PLEASE, I BEG YOU, NO! PLEASE JOEY, NO!"
"You belong to me. No one else," he said as he approached her with the scalding, red, metallic rod.
Connor Rhodes sighed in desperation.
"Still no sign of her," Will said as he trotted to him. They were currently at the Chicago PD station trying to work out where Sarah could be.
This had to be the second worst day of Connor Rhodes's life. He felt the same anguish he had felt when her mother had committed suicide. The same desperation and pain. Words could not describe the empty feeling he felt when he had heard the news. That Owen had been kidnapped and was now safe, but her fiancé… the woman she loved… the woman he would give his own life for was nowhere to be found.
He dragged his hands over his face, trying to calm himself down.
Nat was home being questioned by Jay. Ethan was currently helping search for her. April and Maggie were answering questions to help the search, and everyone else… Everyone else prayed that Sarah Reese was found and brought home safely.
"I need you to repeat how things went down. Step by step," Connor demanded.
"Around 2 a.m. Owen went missing from the nursery at Nat's place. The window was broken, so she knew someone had taken him. She called me and as I went over, I called Jay and everyone we know for backup on searching. Sarah picked up when I called her, but she didn't say anything back when I asked her to come help. About an hour or so later, April called saying she had found Owen at one of the hospital rooms, alone. When I reached everyone to call the search off, Sarah didn't pick up. Not only that, but her phone had no signal. I tried her other devices, but I got nothing back. That's when I knew something was up," Will said.
Connor raked his hands through his hair, unable to think clearly. He didn't know anything about her history with Joey. Special places, important events, nothing. He was an idiot. How could he not know? How could he not have asked about that if his fiancé was being stalked by him and there was a possibility this might come to happen?
He swallowed hard. There had been no note or messages. No goodbye. He knew what that meant. She was committed to giving herself away and not coming back. It was as if she had accepted defeat.
"It's him. It's that fucking maniac."
Will looked back at him, worried.
"She traded herself for Owen, I know she did," Connor lamented. Of course she had. He knew her good heart. Her good, impulsive and completely reckless heart.
"I already have Jay on it. All of Chicago is on her case, I can promise you that," Will reassured.
"That's not enough," Connor snapped. "God knows what that sick bastard could be doing to her right now."
"Connor," The familiar voice of Erin came from behind him. "I need you to come with me."
"What did you find?" he asked as he walked with her.
"Not what. Who. And I didn't find her, she came on her own."
Connor stopped dead in his tracks when he came face to face with his one and only sister.
"Claire has some answers for us," Lindsay said, looking at him with slight worry.
Connor swallowed but kept firm. "What do you know, Claire?"
The shorter woman came up to him and stared back at him for a few seconds. She then turned to Lindsay.
"Sarah stayed at my place last night at Connor's insistence. Everything seemed to be going fine and we talked casually. She started acting weird around 3 a.m., saying she wanted to leave. She attacked me verbally. Said it was my fault our family was broken, and stuff like that. She wanted to get to me so that I let her leave. She wanted me to hate her."
Connor shook his head, but Claire carried on. "I didn't buy her farce, of course. I knew something was up but made her believe she had affected me and I let her leave. She contacted an uber and I called my chauffeur to have her followed. He told me her every move, but I lost communication with him about twenty minutes ago. I'm afraid something happened. Last I heard they were near the Navy Pier."
"I'll meet you there," Connor said to Erin as he sprinted to the parking lot.
Lindsay set out to follow him but stopped for a second when she saw Claire hug herself and eyeing everything but her.
"You should've called the police."
Claire looked back, annoyed. "I had everything under control."
"Clearly," Lindsay scoffed.
Claire looked away and grabbed her bag, ready to leave.
"If you don't mind, I'll go testify," she said in mock politeness.
"She lied," Erin said to her back.
"What?" Claire asked looking back at her.
"Sarah lied. If she had told the truth, she would've told you Connor's the one who feels is to blame for your family being broken. He thinks that if he had saved Jessica-"
"Stop," Claire said, shaking her head. "It's wasn't his fault. It wasn't anyone's. Mom was depressed."
"Well, somehow he feels responsible. It's your job… our job to help him see how wrong he is. Help him get through this."
"How?" Claire said angrily. "He won't even let me see him."
"I sense that from now on things will change between the two of you. He's gotten you involved, whether he likes it or not."
Claire smiled sadly. "Right. So now I'm the nuisance. The stone on the way."
"No. You're the lifeline."
The door slammed shut as she whimpered. The slightest movement ripped at her now burnt side as she tried to lay down without aggravating the wound anymore. Ripples of pain came each time with more intensity. It was unbearable, but what was much so was the action on itself.
He had branded her.
She observed the live skin with caution. The newly formed 'J' that had been marked into her had now started to scar just barely. She averted her eyes, unable to accept it. If his goal was to break her, he was succeeding. She felt like giving up on the tiniest bit of hope she had been holding on to.
She lay still, barely conscious. She felt so alone. She felt like nothing. Her mind wandered away from the pain and to the image of baby Owen. How defenseless he had been. And unaware that his short life could've ended in the blink of an eye.
The rage came back to her. She wanted to kill Joey. Make him suffer just as much as she had.
The fury gave her purpose. She wasn't nothing. She was something… someone. She had saved Owen:
"Where is he?" Sarah asked her phone when she reached the Navy Pier. She looked around for Joey, unable to spot him. The place was alone and dark. She felt in a horror movie and constantly watched her back. The only sound was that of the softly moving water, hitting the Pier every two seconds or so.
"Careful, Sarah…"
"Cut the shit, where is Owen?!" she barked at the device again.
Joey laughed. "Wow, feisty, aren't we? Don't worry, he's with me. By the Ferris Wheel."
Sarah dropped her phone and sprinted to said place and then saw him. Her blood boiled when she saw him with the baby strapped to his chest as if he were a responsible parent.
"I'm here. Let him go."
Joey smiled and unstrapped him. He then held him by the front part of his little clothes and held him towards the water.
Sarah felt a bolt of lightning course through her.
"Stop! Don't, please!" she begged, alarmed.
"Do you really want me to let him go?" he asked mischievously.
"No. Please, he has nothing to do with this. I'll come with you. It's me you want, right? I promise I'll come with you," she bargained.
Joey looked away, ignoring her, so she approached him angrily. She stopped though when Joey let her barely see the end of a gun inside his jacket.
He then called someone. Sarah's breath caught in her throat when a man came up to him. A man she knew. Howard. She had worked with him at the lab. He was a resident, just as her.
"Here's another part," Joey said to him, handing him money.
Sarah shook her head. She now understood. All this time he had been his freaking spy.
"Take him to his mother," he said, handing Owen to him, before caressing his cheek. The baby started crying and Sarah felt repulsed.
Howard nodded and set to leave.
"And stick around near them," Joey commanded last. He then turned to Sarah. "Any bright ideas or funny business and he dies."
Sarah gulped, but nodded, ready to give herself away.
Joey smiled and walked up to her as Howard disappeared with Owen. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and Sarah suppressed the feeling of hitting him hard or stepping back for the matter.
"Now, you come with me, sweetheart."
His grip on her arm was tight and bruising as he walked down the Pier and into a basement. That was the last thing she saw before she was blindfolded.
Her mind returned to the dark room where she was in and to the unwavering pain. She sat up, carefully; decided.
She was not going to die here. Not under the hand of a coward. She gritted her teeth hard as she pulled at her shackles again, and again, and again with all the strength she could muster. If the pipe wouldn't budge, her hands, now wet with fresh blood, would slide from their restraints.
She bit back a scream as she pulled harder and harder. She pulled desperately, not giving herself any rest. She thought of the people she loved in the process. She was doing this for her and them. She had to stay alive.
She pulled harder, the pipe rattling in the process. She looked at her faces on her mind this time contemplating each of them.
Then she thought of Connor. Her mind fast-forwarded on its own: she saw her wedding and both saying 'I do'. She saw their honeymoon. She saw little kids on a house.
Her house.
Her kids.
Just then, her will to live tripled. She pulled one last time with an unknowable force, jarring one of her wrists on the process, and with a loud bang, the pipe broke from the wall.
Blood started dripping down her hands as she stood up dizzily. As she did, her ripped tank top fell down to her knees, leaving her to her top underwear. She struggled to quickly dab the shirt across her wrists and clean her wounds, her hands still prisoned by metal.
She then hurried to the door but froze when she heard footsteps again. She went back to grab the now loose pipe and hid beside the door, ready to strike. Her heart beat in her ears, adrenaline rushing to every inch of her body. Once the door opened and Joey walked in, she hit him hard on the head. She left the room as he pummeled down with a painful yell.
Sarah ran ignoring the presetting pain that pleaded her to stop. She ran across an underground wooden hallway, searching for a door or a way out. She had to escape, but as she spotted the door to run, she stopped dead in her tracks.
Joey's phone. She needed to get it. Otherwise Owen…
She sighed with a violent tremor as she made her way back. The pipe was raised high, ready to strike again in case. She limped carefully to the still lying Joey and spotted his phone just beside him. She gulped once before crouching down carefully and retrieving the device.
She looked at him. There was blood pouring from his head. She stood up and examined him. Had she killed him? No… she couldn't have. The blow hadn't been-
She screamed when she felt a strong grip on her ankle, pulling her to the ground. She fell with a loud thud on the side of her burn. She screamed again as she felt the wound reopen. Joey pulled her to him, clawing at her stomach with his nails, leaving gnarly scratches. She yelled again and kicked him hard on the nose with the heel of her foot and got up.
Her running got faster, a limp with every step. She reached the door and cried out when she found it locked. The pipe rose above her head and into the door in the attempt to jar the lock o break the wood. Then again. And again. She managed to crack the lock open and she felt relief. She took hold of the handle but stopped dead when she felt something cold on the back of her neck. Her senses focused on the jagged breathing of the man behind her holding a gun to her. She didn't dare move and kept her hands still.
He had won. The slightest movement and it would be her end.
She turned slightly to look at the piece of lead she was still holding and considered her options:
Either die fighting, or die pleading.
Sarah hitched a breath and quickly turned around, the pipe gripped firmly in both her hands.
"Anything?" Connor asked Lindsay as both scanned their surroundings. The sun had begun to shine its rays over them just barely. Time was running out, Connor thought. He just hoped Sarah was okay. That she held on for a little longer.
"Nothing out of the ordinary," she said with her gun out as her men scattered on the Pier like ninjas, guns and batons at the ready.
"Wait," Erin said, eyeing the floor. "I see something." She approached the object of her interest followed by Connor.
"A phone."
"It's hers," said Connor frantically doubling over to reach it.
He scanned through it on edge, searching for every app and every message.
"Here!" he yelled more at himself that at anyone else for the matter when he opened the notes app. "It's a note."
Erin leaned closer. "Joey called. Wanted me instead of Owen. I'm sorry, I had to," she read out, as Connor gritted his teeth.
"It was posted about four hours ago."
Erin nodded. "She must not be far." She then called a more profound search on the place to her men.
Then, the deafening sound of thunder set between them. Both stood still, their worst fears confirmed as they heard the echo of the dreadful sound across the Pier.
"Was that a gunshot?"
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