A/N: The end of an era…this is the last chapter of 'A Whole New Life'...but the beginning of its sequel...ready for this? The title is…

'C'est La Vie'

Who's excited? We are! For the last chapter we'll be answering any questions about the stories or characters, whether they'll be appearing, more into their stories- anything you want to ask about the story or us, just let us know in a review :D

So from both of us a big THANK YOU for your supported throughout this entire process and we really hope you'll join us in the next instalment we're truly grateful to every one of you.

NOTE: THIS CHAPTER IS RATED M+ AS IT HAS SCENES THAT MAY BE UNSUITABLE YOUNGER READERS.

"There is no real ending. It's just the place where you stop the story."

― Frank Herbert

'A Whole New Life'

Chapter 18

Jack was shuddering with anger; he was sat on the couch brooding over what had happened. He hadn't seen it, he'd been at work. Maybe that was why he was so angry-because he hadn't been around to protect his wife against this inevitable.

Because it was inevitably going to happen.

Cal never lost, he made that clear even in such a desperate situation as the Titanic and he certainly wasn't going to lose Rose, not after what she knew about him. She had seen a side to him that could potentially spell the end of the Hockley family's reign of terror. He wouldn't let that happen-he had too much to lose. He was terrified to think of what was probably happening to Rose right at that very moment...

-AWNL-

Rose sat on the cold concrete of her dungeon, the tears which had previously been streaming down her tears now making her face stiff. She had a brown potato sack over her head and all was dark. All she could hear was the faint ringing of bells, and occasionally a quiet laugh. She began to yell out for assistance, but she was gagged with a thick scarf, but even if she had been able to make the sound of her pain audible, she doubted that anyone would come to help her. Why would they defy their master, whoever he was. She had never seen the man before in her life-albeit he looked a little familiar, but almost fleetingly so. It was like in a split second he transformed into someone she recognised, but she couldn't put her finger on who exactly this mysterious person was. What was his motive? What had she ever done wrong to this stranger? What had made him kidnap her in broad daylight? She began to panic and her heartbeat became more rapid, desperate. Her body was searching for answers, racking her brain for a possible answer. Nothing. Nothing at all. What was worse was that she was beginning to become thirsty.

"Help me. Please." She croaked, but even she couldn't hear her own voice. Once again she was trapped, but this time it was more terrifying than the first time. Who could have done this? In her past life she was seen and not hurt-so she couldn't think of anyone who could have held a grudge from that point in her life. Cal was another obvious option, but he had no idea where she lived, and had only known that she had been in Rancho Santa Margherita for her wedding day, and not necessarily that she lived there. The man, either way had looked like he was fairly strong, and didn't seem like the type of man to take orders from a weedy rich boy. She could feel every bone in her body freezing. The room wasn't well insulated at all; there was a small window at the top of the concrete wall, with some grass growing inside, obviously showing how long it had been left open-but now the floor was completely frozen and she had goose-bumps. She gave another scream, but the gag was beginning to hurt the sides of her mouth. She longed for a glass of water, something to quench her thirst, perhaps to sooth the stinging edges of her lips. She longed for her hands to be untied from the drainpipe running through the room, and for her feet to be untied. She was a hostage, and she had no idea how to deal with this situation.

The bolt on the door was pulled, and she heard some chains rattling and a key being turned in the lock. She pushed herself back, as far backward as she could go, so she was now shielded behind a pillar, and was facing the wall. The door was flung open, and she held her breath. She hoped that whoever it was, she had fooled them. However, they didn't even pause, just flounced over to her. They ripped at the top of the sack and grabbed her hair; then pushing her down. She gave a cry of pain as her head hit the cold concrete, and her head began to swim. Her eyes were beginning to flutter as her head began to feel heavier. She was being dragged by her hair now out of the room, and was shoved over the barricade with the person's shoe. She gave a small groan as her hair flitted down over her face, and she could feel something dripping down from the roots of her hair down her cheek. She felt sick as she realised that it was probably blood. Her head was still feeling heavy, and she closed her eyes to try and ease the pain. She was being pushed down the hallway, and as soon as she felt as though she had been flipped, her hair was being gripped again and she was being dragged down a flight of stars. She began to screams she felt her muscles spasming in shock and as her hand got caught underneath her, and she heard the crack and felt the extreme pain in her wrist. Her voice was muffled, but this time she was a lot louder. She howled in pain, but even this didn't cause her tormentor to stop. She was still being dragged as she finally fell onto hard ground at the bottom of the stairs, and she tried to lift her head, to be able to make the sack fall off so she could get some form of identification from this cruel person. She couldn't, and she resigned herself to the fact that eventually they would kill her.

She just hoped they'd make it quick.

-AWNL-

Dan pushed at the doors of his father's study, a lit cigarette in his mouth. Nathan frowned at him as he looked up from his papers

"I asked you not to smoke around my home, Daniel." The man snorted and collapsed in the brown leather chair opposite Nathan's desk

"Guess it's just one more disappointment you've gotta' deal with, Dad" the older man glared at him and looked back down at his papers, but continued speaking. Dan knew from experience that Nathan wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing if he was interested in a single word he had to say

"Why are you here? Shouldn't you be doing what Caledon told you to?" Dan growled

"I don't take orders from Caledon." Nathan gave a short, patronising laugh but still didn't look up

"You do when there is money involved." Dan suddenly began to hate his father with a passion, and the glare he sent him he had no doubt told Nathan this. Finally the older man looked up and sighed, pouring some brandy

"No matter. Please refrain from smoking anywhere that isn't here or your room." Dan looked away angrily and hissed

"It's not my room. Hasn't been since I was six years old." Nathan sighed and rubbed his eyes, before saying tiredly

"Daniel, stop acting like a spoilt child having a tantrum and go and fetch Caledon. Then, you can tell us both together how it went." Dan flicked his cigarette into the ashtray on Nathan's desk and stood up, not taking his eyes off of his father, as if he was sure that he would attack, like he was dangerous. It was a part of his job to be ruthless if needs be- and he understood from very early on in his career where he had inherited this from. Nathan was watching his oldest son warily too, but before Dan turned to leave, he growled

"I don't take orders from you, or anyone else. You got that, Dad?" the older man had to bite his lip to stop himself from laughing at the obstinate boy inside of this man came out. He nodded seriously, and Dan huffed out of the room, to do exactly what Nathan told him to.

It was because he was being paid.

Why was that so hard for him to believe?

His mom had told him when Caledon had first sent a telegram 'requesting his presence' that it was not going to be for a nice family reunion. Laura knew better than anyone how cruel Cal could be; she had once been his nanny. Once Moira; Cal and his sister Francesca's mom had found out that she was pregnant, and the father was none other than the Hockley patriarch she had been kicked out so fast her head had spun. To her credit, Moira had acted calmly when Nathan decided to raise Dan as his legitimate son, and she had treated him with anxious, albeit frosty politeness. She was worried about her own kids being overshadowed by a 'bastard child' as she had so politely called him one night when she thought that he was asleep. As if it were coincidence-the next week Laura was back and asked for Dan back and to Dan's surprise, Nathan gave him straight back. Dan had realised a few years ago that his Mom had probably been blackmailed into giving him up, and blackmailed again to get rid of him. The elder Daniel Hockley now stalked through the home which was technically his birth right to inherit after Franny's death. Franny. Her death had hit him hard, even as a child. He still thought of her with gentle fondness.

"Franny! FRAAAANNNYY! I GIVE UP! You can come out now!" Dan yelled, running around the park. His father was sitting with his wife, Moira on a bench; and they were talking seriously about something that the small child really didn't even care about. He ran over to a dirt path and ran over to the big oak trees and started caterwauling again

"Fraaaaannyyy!" he screamed, spinning round to see if she was approaching. She wasn't. Dan gulped as he tried to remember how he had come, but he had run so fast and had not taken notice. He ran toward a muffled light through the trees, and his foot got caught in space between a root and the dirt. He fell face flat onto a stone path and he howled in pain. Almost instantly there were a pair of arms round him, and he was being rocked soothingly in someone's warm arms

"There, there, Danny. It's okay, Franny's here." Dan still howled in pain, gripping his knee which was scraped and now bleeding. Franny tutted and bent down, placing a sweet kiss on his knee-and then pushing his hair out of his face.

"There, now. All better, see? It doesn't hurt anymore-does it?" the small boy shook his head sadly, still a little shocked from his sudden fall. However he began to calm down as Franny changed the subject to the ducks in the pond. Moira had taught Franny from a very young age to help those in need, as a good Christian would. Franny didn't know about religion, but she sure knew how to make her baby brother feel better.

Dan gave a sigh as he sat on the couch in the hall. He rubbed his eyes tiredly as he thought of having to be at the back of the church at Franny's funeral. Moira hadn't let him at the front, saying that he had never been a part of their family and that he never would be. All false politeness was gone, as Moira now had nothing more to lose. Caledon had grown up to become a carbon copy of his father, and although it was a bit worrying for his mother-she was proud of him, as she knew that it meant that he would be successful like his father before him. Laura held his hand tight and didn't let go the whole service. He dug his tiny fingers into the palm of her hand, and later saw that there were tiny little nail marks, and she had to rub ice cubes on them. She didn't complain once. She told him how proud she was of him. How proud she was that he was her son and that she loved him very much. It was crazy how big of a contrast there was between Nathan and Laura. They were polar opposites. Where Laura was loving, kind and protective like a mother bear, Nathan was cold and calculated. Something he knew his brother had inherited, and that he and Franny hadn't.

It was stupid to call him any kind of compassionate-he was a hit man after all. There is no way you can kill someone in cold blood kindly. A servant he knew to be called Dante strolled past him, a silver tray on his hand. As he passed the younger man, he turned and bowed his head slightly, saying quietly

"Mr Hockley. May I bring you anything?" Dan sighed and rubbed his eyes

"No thanks, Dante. If I ask you to call me Dan...again you won't listen, will you?" Dante gave a slight smile as he straightened up

"No, Mr Hockley. Your father gave me strict instructions to treat you no differently than I do your brother." Dan rolled his eyes and moved up, leaving some space for the man to sit. Dante immediately moved forward, but stopped as he was on his way to put the tray down. He gave a slight awkward cough and stepped back. The hit man shook his head sadly

"Tay, you've known me since I was a kid. Come on." Dante coughed again, and bowed his head again and scurried off so fast he nearly dropped his tray. Reluctantly the man stood up and staggered over to a door on the far right and made his hand into a fist, then proceeded to bang on it three times. A quiet voice beckoned him in, and Dan Martin was not one to argue with his employers.

No matter who they were.

-AWNL-

"Jack, would ya' stop pacin'? It won't help nothin'!" Terry cried from the dining table, and Cassie opened her mouth to yell at her insensitive husband, but Jack interrupted her by walking up behind her and placing his hand on her shoulder

"No, Cass. He's right. I just don't know what to do. If I call the police that could make them hurt her, but if I leave it be and hope they'll give her back she'll be hurting anyway. I don't know what to do!" he cried, collapsing on the couch. The Hangars exchanged a mutual look of concern, and after a moment, Cassie sat next to Jack; taking his hand in hers and squeezing it softly. The man looked up, and she smiled calmly, whispering

"We'll find her, Jack. I promise." Jack felt tears well up behind his eye lids and then begin to stream down his cheek. Cass wiped it away with a flick of her finger so quickly and gently that he almost gave a shudder at the sudden feeling of comfort. He wanted to scream and kick and punch. He wanted to hurt Cassie, hurt Terry even though they were on his side

On Rose's side...

He began to sob softly, burying his head in Cassie's shoulder. She put her arm around him, holding him as tightly as he could as she looked over again at her husband, who was now looking slightly sick at the wall opposite him, at a picture of the people whom the Dawsons' were renting the house from. Cassie felt slightly ill that she had only seen Rose the day before. Had she missed any signs? Had she seen anyone watching them? She doubted it, she had been too busy spending time and enjoying herself with her friends. Ciara had come down for a few days to claim Tommy's stuff from the mortuary, apparently some asshole had picked it up from the place where his corpse had lain and taken it onto the Carpathia with him, but the person registered themselves as a different name to Thomas Ryan, the name stitched into the bag by his wife so once they realised that the real Thomas had perished, they sent a telegram to the postal office nearest to Ciara's house and she came straight away down to California to pick it up. She was quickly using up all of her savings. Tommy's mother, who was currently still mourning was unaware that her husband, Bert had borrowed Ciara a hefty amount of money so that she and her kids could escape on holiday somewhere-so that she could try and wrap her mind around life without her husband, to try and give the children something else to concentrate on. It was certainly a lot harder than she had expected it to be, especially as all of Tom's siblings had arrived back in their parent's home in preparation for their brother's memorial service and his older sister Aideen wasn't helping with scathing looks at the children and snide comments toward her sister-in-law and how she never should have let Tom go and help to build ships in the first place. She said he should have taken a profession closer to home. She was treating it as if it was all Ciara's fault, and no matter how many times her parents and siblings reprimanded her Ciara couldn't help but feel that Aideen was right. She had yet to tell the children of the new baby that she was expecting, conceived the last time she had seen Tommy alive a few months before the cursed ship sank. She often went quiet, and although Cass hadn't known her for very long, she got the feeling that Ciara wasn't normally like that. No matter, she would be there for her friend-not matter what happened.

"We're here for you, Jack. We promise, don't we Terry?" she shot a glance at her husband, who was already nodding and strode over to his friend, patting him on the back

"You need anythin', Jack. You just ask us, alright?" Jack nodded and looked up at his friends, his eyes red from crying so desperately. He managed to sob out

"Thanks you guys. I just...need to find her. Know that she's okay." Once again, the Hangar's exchanged a look between them that Jack Dawson did not see. Terry nodded solemnly at his wife, and she rubbed circles soothingly on his back, as she would one of her children as they cried

"To do that we need to think about who could have a motive." Jack's head suddenly snapped up, his cheeks regaining his colour and his eyes narrowed. He snarled out one name

"Cal."

-AWNL-

"She's really here?" Cal said excitedly, however he controlled himself and tried to seem calm, as he didn't want Dan to know how very excited he was. His prize had finally returned to him. His older brother looked slightly sick, and Nathan looked incredibly smug, and poured three glasses of whisky and handed them to his sons. He raised his own glass, saying loudly

"To our family. The Hockleys'. Triumphant once again." Cal immediately raised his glass, and he and his father repeated the words that they made sound like a blessing. Like you were blessed if you were a Hockley. Dan just downed his drink in one, and wiped his mouth on the back of his jacket sleeve. He took a step toward Caledon, who took a wary step back. He held out his hand expectantly. Nathan and his youngest offspring exchanged a look of mutual amusement, and slowly, both removed their wallets-which Dan knew from experience would be stuffed with cash. He thought of his pocket, which contained his keys to the apartment he rented out while he was in town, and a five dollar bill. He was going to go back home soon, back to his Mom who was terrified for her son's safety. He would have to go home to his sometime girlfriend, Maddi who only really cared for him once he had visited his wealthy relatives (whom he refused to name). The two men started counting out ten dollar notes onto the table. They never used anything bigger than a ten-when he had once asked why as a child, Nathan had said dryly that a lot of people would kill for the money he had in his pocket, so if they only found a few $10 notes then it wouldn't be worth their while. They never carried this much in public though. Their bodyguards carried at least $1,000 each while the men themselves only carried around 30 bucks. It worked like a childhood game; Nathan would put down a note then Cal and back and forward until there was a pile of notes, all adding up to $10,000. Dan stepped forward and shoved the notes into his coat pocket and placed his hat on his head, tilting the edge and saying wryly

"Mister Hockleys. Pleasure doing business." With that he turned and strode purposely toward the door, only stopping with his hand on the door knob as Nathan said warningly

"You don't mention this to your mother, am I clear, Daniel?" his hand tightened on the cold copper and said angrily, not turning around

"Just so we're clear, Dad-what I say to my mother is none of your business. Goodbye." He opened the door, and heard Cal mutter

"That whore wouldn't understand anyway." He turned furiously, and grabbed his brother, dragging him across the floor and slamming him against the wall, clenching his fist and snarling

"You wanna repeat that, Caledon?" he heard his father call for Winston, the head bodyguard since Lovejoy had perished on Titanic, and Cal smiled evilly, infuriating Dan further

"You lose again, Daniel. You'll never be one of us. You're just the bastard child of a servant. That's all you ever will be." Dan kneed the greasy haired rat in the nuts, and Cal gave a groan of pain, crumpling under the strain of the pain, and his brother growled

"I've done more work in a week than you'll ever do in your entire life." The man who was currently with one hand toward his aching genitals and one pinned to his side grinned smugly, saying smugly

"Yes, as a hit man. You should be careful, brother. It might just slip to the police the nature of your...Err...Business." Dan pushed him against the wall once again, glaring at the little bastard furiously. He longed to smash his head against the wall. He angrily snarled

"Is that a threat?" he felt arms grabbing him round shoulders and dragging him away. Cal pushed his slicked back hair (which was now rather raggedy) back, and strode over to Dan, who was struggling against Winston's grip and spat in his face. The hit man growled in fury and kicked against the elder man, who had once been his self-defence teacher. He had taught Dan everything that he knew, and still he was stronger. Cal smiled once again, and nodded-saying dangerously

"Keep your mouth shut, or else you'll go to jail and your mommy dear will be dead by the time you get released." Dan yelled and hollered as Winston carted him out of the room, slamming the door behind him. He carried the younger man all the way out to the courtyard and dropped him on the gravel. Immediately Dan leapt up and tried to push past him to get to the door once again-but the body guard blocked him

"Dan. Don't" he tried pushing Winston out of the way, but once again the man who was like a brick wall blocked him, shoving him back onto the asphalt

"Dan, I don't wanna' hurt you." The younger man muttered expletives under his breath, and Winston rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly

"Look- I know that Cal is an asshole, and I know that your Mom isn't a whore. You know it and everyone knows it. Just let it go, kid." He was met with an angry scowl, and a moment later, Dan turned and flounced out of the gates, slamming it behind him and walking down the street. Winston watched him until he disappeared-it was as if he was looking back at all those years ago, when Dan and his Mom had walked down the street, out of Nathan's life presumably. All of the house settled into a sense of mourning for the young boy who had become a firm favourite of the staff due to his brave (albeit nonsensical) ignoring of his father's orders to treat the servants as his slaves; especially the negroes. Luckily, Dan had inherited his Mother's tact and kindness- and everyone had loved Laura when she was a member of staff. She was always going out of her way to do things for others, and everyone despised the master and mistress of the house when she was ordered to leave; especially as she was heavily pregnant. No one yet had guessed who the father was-which made it all the more shocking when it was finally uncovered.

Dan would never forgive his father for the way that he had treated his mother, but he was still his father. Unfortunately for him, whenever Nathan called-he was obligated to go. He hadn't touched a penny in his trust fund according to Percy, the family bursar-instead deciding to earn his own keep, and unlike his father and that side of the family, the staff and his mother didn't judge Dan on his choices.

They found it better keeping their noses out of business.

-AWNL-

Her new cell was slightly warmer than the last, which was a comfort. Her blindfold was removed when her captor finally stopped dragging her across the ragged ground, provided that she turned to face the wall and didn't turn round until she heard the locks being turned. She obliged, obviously and when the time was right, turned round and got her first look at her new prison. The walls were cement once again, but there was a tiny radiator in the corner and she immediately struggled over to it. The heat was barely there but nonetheless she sat next to it and moaned in pleasure. She was freezing, as her dress had been ripped short and the sleeves removed so that they could tie her pale limbs together. She was still thirsty, and saw some water dripping from damp on the ceiling in the corner. She looked round for something she could possibly use to catch it and lo and behold there was a tin bucket in the corner of the room, its original purpose turned to moot. She reached out with her foot and tried to kick the edge of the bucket without moving away from her beloved radiator-but failed. She gave a sigh of irritation and reluctantly crawled over to the bucket and held onto the handle between her teeth. She trotted, as if she was a terrier of some sort over to the rainfall and placed the bucket in its path. The water immediately began to collate at the bottom and she watched it thirstily. As soon as there was enough for her to be able to take a sufficient drink, she bit onto the side of the bucket and tipped it slightly. The water trickled slowly down the side of the bucket and into her open mouth. She drank in gulps, and as soon as she had started, it seemed that all the water was gone. Unfortunately, she would have to collect more. She gave a groan and desperately tried to tip the bucket further in order to get more water, but failed miserably. As she tipped more, she gave a shriek as the remainder of the cold water tipped down he front of her dress and reflexively moved backward, causing the bucket to crash onto the floor and role away. She stared at it in horror, as if she had seen the final raincloud in a desert float away slowly. She would never be able to pick it up now. Even if she managed to prop it up using her teeth, she would have to carry it all the way over to the side of the room. She felt tears-water of her own dripping down her cheeks and she flicked her tongue out to catch one. The water was saltier, but would do when push came to shove. It was lucky that she had managed to get the amount of rainwater she had.

She had been there for hours, or so it felt like. There had been no more visits from her captor since the last once when she had been dragged down the stairs yet. They weren't stupid, they knew that she would be watching the door waiting for them, and when they came in she would be able to see (and possibly recognise) them. They wouldn't give her the satisfaction of 'closure' before her eventual murder which she sure wouldn't be that far in the future. Perhaps this had started as a blotched kidnap-someone who recognised her from the years of her and her mother pretending to be rich; and once they realised that she had disowned her mother and married a poor artist they would kill her, as they would feel embarrassed for their mistake. She was nothing to them, even if they did know her-and that would make her murder even more horrifying. She, for some reason could not stop thinking about her old childhood home with its huge field as a backyard, which was surrounded by dense woodland. She thought about the number of guards that were lurking there whenever she asked her Mother if she could go out and play. They were not actors, or any other type of constantly-in-the-spotlight celebrities, but they were rich and to her mother that was a mitigating factor. She often got scared of the tall men who seemed to blend into the shadows like ghosts, and ran up to her and lifted her off of the floor whenever she fell, racing back into their mansion and cleaning up the scrape quickly. Sometimes she'd have to yell at them to leave her alone, as she was fine and had only really bumped her knee. It was crazy how often they overreacted. She would give anything to feel as safe (albeit subconsciously then) as she did in those early days now. She thought of odd things, like her book left turned over in her room-saved at page 86. She longed to pick it up, and indulge herself in some drama which had been created by an author-fiction. She felt that if she closed her eyes and did stupid things; counting to 135, crossing her fingers and toes…that when she opened her eyes it would all be a dream, and that she would be comfortably in her bed in Rancho Santa Margherita with her husband snoozing beside her.

There was movement outside of the door now, and she clenched her eyes shut as tight as she could. There was more than one voice, hushed to a point where she had to strain to even hear that anyone was speaking at all. As she key was turned in the lock, and the bold was pulled, she took a deep breath-and held it as light from the corridor flowed inside with her captor.

-AWNL-

Jack was storming around his home now, shoving things out of his way as he went. Terry grabbed him as he threw a lampshade against the wall in fury, scaring little Ruby-who ran toward her Mother and buried her head in her chest, not wanting to look over. Michael had brought her over after she was done at school, and had gone to work afterward- so his parents couldn't ask him to take her somewhere else. Now she was scared, and Terry was quickly losing his temper. He pushed Jack against the wall and put his arm on his throat, yelling

"Jack, stop! You're scarin' Ruby!" the younger man just couldn't contain his anger-determined to destroy anything and anyone. Rose was gone-stolen by her ex fiancé, a rapist. There was no doubt in his mind that she was probably miles away by now-Cal was evil but he wasn't dumb. He knew that Jack would realise that it was his doing and try to find him. He probably hired someone obscure-someone who didn't look anything different than your average Joe to watch them, to take Rose from right under her unassuming husband's nose. It was like a final middle finger up to his rival, showing that he was right-he always won. Jack's cloud of anger began to rise, and he looked round at his room. The sheets had been destroyed, ripped and thrown onto the floor and stomped on as he ran to reach the lampshades, which were smashed against the wall near Cassie, who was struggling to comfort her daughter who was sobbing in fear. Guilt fell over him, and he sighed looking away in embarrassment. Seeing that his friend had calmed down, Terry dropped his arm and walked quickly over to his family. He lifted Ruby into his arms and held her close to him, whispering soothing words in her ear. With one hand he gripped Cassie's hand, who was also rubbing their daughter's back. Ruby finally said

"Daddy? Is Jackie okay?" Terry nodded

"Yeah, baby. Jackie's alright. He's just real worried, see? Rosie's gone missin' and he doesn't know where she is." Ruby looked over curiously at her parents' friend, who was looking extremely guilty at the other side of the room, watching her as intently as he watched her. She gave a small smile, and said kindly

"Don't worry, Jackie. Rosie's big and strong like Mommy. She'll be okay. Won't she, Mommy?" Cassie kissed her daughter's head, wondering how much sweeter it was possible for her to get. Realising that she actually wanted an answer, she said quickly

"Yes, sweetie. She'll be fine." Ruby grinned, such an innocent smile which made even Jack feel the tiniest bit better though.

Not much though.

Not enough.

Jack had extended an invitation to his friends to let their daughter sleep in their guest room, as she had become increasingly tired and they didn't feel confident enough with his state of mind to leave him all alone. The mood he was in he'd end up hurting himself really badly. One Ruby was fast asleep and her mother returned downstairs, Terry sat down his friend at the dining table and his wife sat next to him, their expressions grave

"Are you gonna' call the police?" Terry asked quietly, even though his daughter was asleep. It felt like broaching the subject of Rose's kidnap was wrong-as if they were defiling a shrine. To be honest, they all expected her to walk through the door happy ad safe, but she wouldn't. Cassie seemed very quiet, and her husband put his arm around her shoulders soothingly

"Cass? You okay, honey?" she sighed and squeezed his hand, muttering

"I'm just so worried about her. She must be so scared." Jack shuddered at the thought of his wife all alone, with a man who had hurt her in the past. She would be terrified, crying as hard as she could, but she would never ever let Cal know that he had broken her. Lord only knew that she kept the façade of happiness up for years when she was still an aristocrat. The thing Cassie feared the most, though-was what he could do to her.

God only knew what he was doing right that minute.

Terry was gauging his wife's mood, trying to see whether he would have to remove her to calm her down-make her see reason. Her moods were…unpredictable...and she went from calm to livid in under a millisecond. He had never seen her in a situation as terrible as this before, however. With the Dawsons moved in a whole new set of drama. He didn't envy Jack anything, and with that terrible thought-pulled Cassie closer to him while Jack's back was turned and kissed her softly, whispering

"I love you." She looked back at Jack, who was sobbing at his sink once again and whispered

"I love you." She stood up and walked over to their broken, sobbing friend who was struggling to contain himself for the sake of their small, sleeping daughter upstairs. They knew that he would be yelling and cursing given the chance-as would any man whose wife had been kidnapped by a psychotic aristocrat. She put her arm round him, and he turned so he was facing her and buried his face in her shoulder, sobbing loudly. Cassie patted his back sympathetically

"There, there Jack. It's gonna' be alright.", but as she and Terry exchange a glance between them-they knew that there was a slim chance of things being alright. In fact, they had to brace him for the complete opposite-the inevitable.

-AWNL-

Rose's eyes widened at the sight of her captor, and she mentally cursed herself for being so naïve. Who else would hold such a grudge against her? Her mother wouldn't have kept her in a basement and asked someone to physically drag her down a flight of stairs, damaging her only 'valuable asset', as her mother once described her appearance. Cal was still dealing with his bruised ego from her rejection, and was now looking at her as if she were a prize cattle in some sort of vile auction. It made her feel somewhat dehumanised and slightly sick. He looked at her like she was a piece of meat, a horrible, perverted grin all over his horrible face. She never knew that she would feel so sick at the sight of him. It was true, he made her feel terrified and nauseated at the same time. Maybe because she knew what he was capable of. With her memories of her time as his 'fiancée' flooding back, she tried to shuffle backwards-only to feel her bruised body hitting the cold wall. She looked up in fear, and Cal gave a terrible, amused laugh. He took another step toward her, and she suddenly found the courage to scream

"Stay back! D...Don't come any closer!"

Jack was having trouble sleeping, and was tossing and turning in his bed. Cassie and Terry were sharing the double bed with their daughter, and when Jack had peeked in the door he saw them all huddled together as a family-and Jack was sure he saw that Terry and his wife's hands were clutching each other tightly, s if they would never let go. Oh only if he had held onto Rose a little tighter, this may not have happened. Why did he not wake up when she got up in the middle of the night? The storm, if anything should have woken him up but it did not. He was sitting at home comfortable and warm-and God only knew where Hockley had taken Rose. Hell, no one knew the Hockley's' true address, as they moved around from summer home to winter home from winter home to spring home etc. so often. Even if he asked Molly or even stretched it so far to Ruth they would have no idea. The women never dealt with the business side of things, and that would be the only cause of them having an invitation to any of the Hockley's' homes. He didn't know what to do-and maybe, just maybe Rose was looking up at the moon which was beaming through their window and sending it's luscious lights onto his face and thinking exactly the same thing.

Cal slapped Rose, making her gasp and cup her cheek in pain, tears beginning to once again stream down her battered face. Within a moment, Cal was on his knees next to her, shushing her sobs away and turning her face to look at him, where he looked innocent, as if he was almost regretting hitting her now. A flicker of hope lit inside her, but his next words extinguished it

"Now, now sweet pea. We can't have you damaging your face further. Why, it might become unattractive." He clenched his fingers, so they pushed into her skin painfully. She gave a gasp but he thrust her face into hers and she quickly stopped.

"You are no longer that scums slut do you hear me, Rose? DO YOU HEAR ME?" he yelled, backhanding her again with so much force that he was winded and fell back, hitting the floor on her back. She nodded, her heart breaking in her own acceptance of her fate. Cal nodded, looking pleased with his prize. He smiled at her in a perverse way once again and her heart dropped into her stomach, and she almost forgot to breath. She had seen that smile before. It was the smile of a man who felt desire, lust. He was staring at her, perusing her as if he didn't know where to start. He pulled his straps off his shirt and unbuttoned his zip, and she tried to back away again. He caught up with her quickly and put his tie round her mouth. He slapped her so hard that her face turned to the side and hit the hard floor, and she heard a crack as one of her teeth cracked. He hissed into her ear furiously

"You're going to enjoy this you little whore." She yanked up her dress. She began to try and scream and flail, but he pinned down her hands with his own, and slowly began to rape her over and over. Rose tried to detach herself, like she used to-but she had become accustomed to love, and the sound of him grunting and groaning in pleasure no longer was mutable-but made her feel sick and disgusted with herself. She was nothing more than a whore-like he had said. He had been right, and Jack had been wrong. He gave a moan as he released himself and placed his slimy lips on hers, forcing his tongue in her mouth as she fought her instinct the bite down. He stood up, and pulled up his trousers, placing the straps back over his arms. He smiled down at her, and said smugly

"I think that I have a very agreeable business proposition for you." She couldn't even look up from where she lay, motionless. It hurt everywhere, as he had been insatiable with lust-and had been rough and hurt her as opposed to the gentle love she was used to at home.

Home. What does that even mean?

Cal glared at her, but carried on

"You will continue to honour me as your husband. You never think or mention Dawson again and in two months' time I will take you as my wife-the way you should have been." At that point she would have agreed to anything to get him to leave, so that she could attempt to reclaim her thoughts, but he continued, saying darkly

"And in return, I will allow you to live...you will stay down here, a bed will be brought in along with two meals a day. Do you agree? Darling?" she shuddered at the sound of his pet name for her, and thought for a moment, before looking up, and answering with a quiet

"Yes."

A/N: That was horrible to write. Honestly it nearly made me sick. Well, that's the last chapter of 'A Whole New Life'. This is your chance to ask questions about the next two instalments, the story, us whatever.

We'll be putting up a chapter with answers and thanks in a while.

Thank you all for reading, favouriting and reviewing

Until next time

-Talia&Alessia

(The2DawsonGirls)

xxx