A/N: Oh my goodness! the outpouring of support and enjoyment for this story has left me thoroughly humbled! Thank you to everyone who has submitted a review! I feel so grateful to each one of you and I will be working on responding to everyone here in the next few days. Also, This chapter marks the beginning of the M-rated content. There is discussion of rape and other trigger topics. Most of the subsequent chapter from here on will be M, but I will be sure to provide a warning for anything that might be cause for caution.

In the present, please enjoy!

Chapter 5

He pressed her hard against the wall, hands fumbling against her skirt and bruising her sides. His breath was burning her ear, and she whimpered as she felt him rip the material of her skirt and pull it down around her hips. He bared her just enough to allow him access. He dropped his trousers around his knees and pressed his large hand into the back of her head, forcing her to turn her head or have her nose broken.

"Please, please don't-"

He took a handful of her hair and yanked her head back, biting her ear then slamming her cheek into the wall. "Shut it, whore. This is what you get for staying out too late."

Elsie felt the warmth on her cheek and didn't know whether it was tears or blood. She was desperate, so she brought her elbow back and slammed it into his chest as hard as she was able. It knocked the breath from his body, and he let go of her for an instant. She scrambled away, desperate to get to the front door.

But it was not to be.

He was on her in an instant, and Elsie knew that this time it would be worse than ever before.

Elsie awoke with a start, and sat up in bed looking around the room. Her heart was racing, her hair matted to her temples from the sweat. She felt something tickling her cheek, and she lifted her hand to find she'd been crying in her sleep. She wiped her cheeks and got out of bed. Her dog, a large German Shepherd named Willa, followed her silently into the bathroom. She nosed Elsie's nightgown gently, whining a little at her distress. Elsie reached down and gently stroked Willa's large, soft ears then stood and splashed water on her face. She looked at herself in the mirror.

He's gone. He won't come looking for you now. You're safe.

But somewhere deep inside, no matter how many times she repeated her mantra, Elsie Hughes knew he would be back.

Charles Carson had never met someone he hated more than this man.

"I don't think I've ever met someone I've taken a liking to this quickly! You've got yourself a job!" Joe Burns said jovially as he slapped Charles sloppily on the back. Charles laughed aloud and threw back the remainder of his scotch. Joe Burns took a cigar from his jacket and held it out, gesturing for Charles to light it for him. Charles pulled a small silver lighter from his pocket and lit the tobacco leaves.

"Well, I have to say I am glad to hear it. I won't let you down."

Joe suddenly became very still, cigar hanging from the side of his mouth. He took the cigar out slowly, looked into Charles's eyes and said, "No, I don't think you will. Not if you know what's good for you. And I think you do." Joe gestured to a man clad in dark clothing near the door of the room. The man opened another door to the far left, and two men similarly dressed brought three women in. All were wearing next to nothing, and clearly they had been hired for the evening. Joe Burns smiled, and Charles resisted the urge to clench his fists in hatred. Charles hid the boiling anger beneath his stoic façade. A façade he had perfected through many years of this work. He had earned the nickname "The Butler" from his fellow agents because of his renowned ability to remain calm and composed no matter what the mark threw his way. He was a legend, and he had earned it. And in that moment, Charles knew he would need every ounce of composure he had developed through the years if he was ever going to get through this alive.

"Pick one." Charles looked at Joe Burns, disgusted by the very thought of what these women would have to endure tonight. He smiled back at Joe Burns.

"I don't mean to be rude, but I'd rather not. Suffering from a bit of the dose*. You know how it is." Joe Burns shook his head at Charles.

"You're a dog, man. Well, that leaves more for me." He turned his rapacious gaze back to the women, so Charles cleared his throat to get his attention.

"Friday then?"

Never moving his eyes from the women, Joe Burns replied, "Friday. Don't be late."

Charles nodded curtly and left as fast as he was able. He made it into the dining room and looked around furtively. When he could see no one in sight, he quickly reached out and pulled the fire alarm on the wall. The sirens began screeching and as he held his lighter to one of the sprinklers, it began dousing the room with water. Charles slipped out the front door before anyone could see him. He knew they would never know it was him- he'd canvassed the place weeks ago. There were no cameras at Joe Burns' restaurant, and Charles was grateful for that as he watched through binoculars from his car as the three women rushed out the side door and into a car. Joe Burns did not follow. Charles smiled to himself and pulled away silently.

It takes Elsie hours to fall back asleep, and when she finally does her alarm rattles her out of her uneasy slumber.

"Willa girl, it's going to be a long day." Willa just wagged her tail and licked Elsie's hand as she reached out to pat her head. Elsie stepped into the shower and turned the water on hot, making every effort to scald the unpleasant (horrific) residue of her nightmare from her mind. She finishes her shower, somewhat reinvigorated by the smell of her mint shampoo and lemony vanilla body wash. She wrapped her hair in a fresh towel. Just as she grabbed her robe, someone knocked on her door and Willa rushed to the kitchen barking loudly. Elsie cursed under her breath and quickly threw her robe on.

"Damn salesman." Elsie tied up her plum coloured robe as she padded on bare feet through her kitchen. Irritated, she whipped open her door, fully intending to give the person on the other side an earful of her Scottish temper. She stopped abruptly when she realized it was Charles Carson at her doorstep.

Charles felt his smile before he consciously agreed to it. The Scottish Dragon stood before him, her wet hair wrapped in a lavender towel, her plum robe clinging to her curves as droplets of water on her neck glistened in the morning light. Charles fought a groan that bubbled up from his chest. As his eyes traveled back to her face, a deep scarlet blush caressed her cheeks and he suddenly felt parched standing before her.

Of course it was Charles Carson. He always appeared at the most inopportune and embarrassing moments for her, so she wasn't even surprised. What did startle her, however, was the lascivious manner in which his dark eyes caressed her body from calf to cheek. The heat rose to her face and the spiky words she had waiting abandoned her. They stood like that, staring silently at one another for an interminable length of time before Willa started the conversation for them. She pushed out from behind Elsie's legs and shoved her large snout between Charles's legs, rudely breaking the spell that had overcome them both.

"Willa!" Elsie bent forward to grab Willa's collar, forgetting for a moment she was clad only in her robe. The front gaped, and for an instant, Charles was looking right at her bare chest.

"Oh! Oh my goodness!" Elsie grabbed the front of her robe and pulled it together, but it was too late. Charles turned his face away, partially to alleviate her embarrassment and partially to save himself from revealing his immature level of attraction for her. He clenched his jaw and sucked in a deep breath. The Butler, he thought derisively. Ha. All the enemies he had thwarted and a small, fiery Scottish woman could completely undo his starched suit of poise.

"I'm so sorry to come at a bad time…" Charles offered her an olive branch, hoping to introduce some sanity into their brief exchange. She was still blushing when he returned his gaze to her face. However, her face had now formed itself into the expression he knew so well: annoyance.

"Oh, I suppose you are. Ha, bloody unlikely. What is it now?" Her terse response made him smile again.

"I just wanted to see if you'd like to join me for breakfast this morning."

Elsie threw her hands in the air. "Good Lord, you are persistent aren't you?" She walked away then, leaving the door open behind her. Charles did the only decent thing; he took it as an invitation and followed her and Willa into the house.

She had disappeared into the bedroom. He waited patiently by her door and took in the small house as he waited. It looked cozy and warm in the bright morning light. All of her furniture was large and fluffy, most of it mismatched. It all looked secondhand, but the slightly tattered nature of the grey-blue and white furniture was barely noticeable under the plethora of bright blue, yellow and white throw pillows. He counted at least ten from where he stood in the small entryway. The living room was to his right, the open and airy kitchen to his left. The white cupboards reflected the comforting feel of the living room, and he smiled when he realized the curtains on the large kitchen window matched the pillows. Clearly, she had made them all, and the thought of her- feisty, hot tempered, and wickedly quick witted- sitting at a sewing machine making curtains warmed his heart. She returned to the kitchen- fully dressed- just then, pulling him from his thoughts.

"What are you all agog for?" Charles adored her Scottish brogue. He smiled at her.

"Just… I didn't expect you to be the sewing type." Elsie whipped her gaze to his.

"How do you know I sew?"

Waking around the counter that separated the little entryway from the kitchen, he gestured to the curtains. "The curtains, they match the pillows. If you aren't the type to buy new furniture, I highly doubt you'd spend the money to buy matching throw pillows and curtains."

Elsie shook her head. "Charles Carson, what are you doing in my home when I expressly told you I was done with this?" She gestured up and down his body. Realizing how she had sounded, she felt her cheeks begin to burn.

"Done with this?" Charles gestured to himself. "But Elsie Hughes, you haven't even had the pleasure of using this in the first place." Elsie turned her burning face to look at him. The utter and complete mischief reflected in his eyes was her undoing.

"Oh to hell with it all. Fine. Have it your way. I have bacon, eggs, toast and some jam."

Charles and Elsie arrived at the university moments apart, and much to her chagrin, Elsie noticed Beryl staring at her from beside her Range Rover.

Charles sidled up to Elsie and bent to whisper deliciously in her ear. "You have some explaining to do, I'd reckon." Elsie felt a delicious burning sensation ripple through her veins, and in that moment she could have cared less if Beryl was going to interrogate her. But Elsie was a woman of determination and steadiness. She took in a breath of air and stepped away from Charles, smiling politely to him.

"Breakfast was nice. Next time you'll have to do the cooking." Charles almost dropped the bag he was holding.

"Next time?" Elsie smiled and turned, walking into the university, her blood thudding through her veins, reminding her that the risk she was taking would be dangerous to more than just her heart.

*dose is a slang term for Gonorrhoea. Unpleasant, right? Btw, Charles does not actually have it ;)