Despite the pain her weary muscles suffered, Ellie bounced across the parking lot of Ewing Industries gleefully like a delightful child. She had just deposited the signed arctic leases into the company's safe and was on her way to tell the good news to her family.

"They are going to be so shocked...so blissful!" She said verbally to herself as the parking lot was empty at midnight. Clasping her hands together, she twirled a circle in celebration.

Before unlocking the door to her Hummer, she glanced up at the night sky drowned in stars and sighed. The city slept under a haze of the golden waning moon. This was the only time she could tolerate the city. She preferred the tranquility of the country. But tonight she could be anywhere in the world and be happy. She had just saved her brother's life.

A sudden gust of eery emotions swept over her. She glanced around to make sure she was alone. Haunted with a chill of unearthly foreboding, she fumbled with her keys, hands trembling from instinctive panic.

CLICK, her key turned. Almost there. Opening the Hummer door, relief flowing until a black veil clamped down over her. She tried to scream, but the black plastic over her face engulfed her mouth and nostrils suffocating her. Brutal hands seized her flaying arms and legs, and tossed her into the back of a truck.

Squirming, kicking, doing everything she could do to be free did not help, still her kidnappers tied her arms behind her back. Every time she raised her body something hard and stiff like that of a broom handle slammed down upon her back and head. After two hours of smothering in the bag and being hit, she fainted.

When she woke, she had no idea how much time had passed. She knew it was day time as she could feel the sunbeams warming her flesh. She pretended to be asleep, ears straining to see if she could make out who her abductors were. After about an hour of only racing cars and the occasional horn, she finally heard a man's voice but could not make out his words.

The truck slowed to a stop and within seconds the men jerked her up and drug her into a Spanish style compound. They took off the bag and threw her to her knees at the feet of a short Mexican man dressed in a white suit. Gold chains and rings illuminated the saintly white of his apparel.

Ellie peers up to find the stranger's cold eyes stalking her. They are phantomish, unblinking, large and black like a raven's. Meeting his atrocious expression, she asked "Where am I?"

He grinned revealing several gold teeth before kicking her in the chest. She screamed out on impact.

"Callate, puta! You only speak when spoken to."

She closed her eyes fighting to still her pounding heart. He did not have to answer her question. She knew who these monsters were. They were the Mexican Drug Cartel and the price for John Ross' mistake was her. All hope died. She was probably across the border and once in the hands of the cartel in Mexico, there was no escape.

She remained on the floor silent as a seer, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. It was obvious she was trying hard to contain them. She would not give these bastards the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

The man squatted and seductively ran his fingertips caressing her chin. She did not know what was stronger, the man's overbearing cologne or the stretch of his corona-coated breath. "Do not weep, señorita, me and the boys are going to have some fun with you tonight." Dropping his hand, he fondled her breast harshly.

She reared back as if the man bore the plague and hissed venomously, "You better kill me first, you filthy pendejo!" She knew Spanish. No one lived their whole life in Texas and not knew Spanish.

The drug lord's smile melted in a sinister sneer as he backhanded her so hard that the force lifted her body up and smacked her back down.

In a daze, head spinning, she lay in the floor unable to move. Waves of nausea flooded her. Blood pounded in her ears. Her mind reeled. They were going to rape and then murder her. Probably beheading. That was their popular method. But still she refused to cry.

She briefly considered informing them that her family now has the funds to settle their deal, thanks to her intimate trade with Tom, but she resisted the urge knowing it was too late for her.

"First we are going to teach you a lesson, puta."

Panic gripped her heart. She raised her head, blood draining from her torn lip, malevolently glaring at the short Mexican. He stood over her leering sadistically. Another Latino man drew to his side. He was a grizzled warrior with avaricious eyes hungrily raping her. He whispered something to the lord and the lord replied with a single stride of his head.

With bloodthirsty malice, the burly beast fell upon Ellie grunting like a savage, pounding her brutally with fists of steel. Lamenting, she curled into a fetal position using her bound arms to shield her head as best as she could, silently praying that he would accidentally kill her before they gang raped her.

The beating did not last long before a man shouted something in what seemed to be in Portuguese. Instantly the cartel armed themselves and cleared the room. All but one who wrenched Ellie's wrecked body from the floor and tossed her into a chair.

"Franco, a source informed me that you abducted a young woman last night." Tom said over the clanking sound of Russians loading the stolen shipment of American military weapons.

The short Mexican drug lord glanced up suspiciously. Tom had never inquired about such matters before. As long as he received tribute, he seemed not to care what the cartel done. "It never fails to amaze me how rapidly you hear things. The girl's family has not even been contacted. She has nothing to do with our business with you."

"I have eyes and ears everywhere. And I am making her my business. Now where is the woman?" He commanded ascending supremacy over the arrogant drug lord.

"Through those doors." Franco pointed. "And you are just in time for the entertainment."

"You know I do not get off on rape nor do I condone the murder of women, but what you do is your business." Tom said following the shorter man toward the door. Before entering he shot a deliberate look to his guards, a mixture of Russians and Brits, as they lined the walls, armed, facing the Mexican cartel who were also armed and wearing weary faces.

Upon entering Tom spotted Ellie, wrists bound, hair clinging to her face, slumped in a chair in the corner of the room. She had been beaten. A blind rage like a fire swept over him. He contained it being a master of controlling his emotions. He did not get to where he was today by behaving rash and reckless.

"Most white women cry and beg, but this bitch fought like a little hellcat. We are allowing her to recuperate, so that she has the strength to fight some more tonight."

Tom sneered at the Mexican, the desire for blood-lust pounding in his veins. "Yes, well even felines can be tamed."

Ellie's heart slammed into her chest. Without glancing up she knew who the British voice belong to. Bile rose in the back of her throat, anguish flourished in the pit of her stomach. Tom was behind all of this.

Franco sniggered, rubbing his cock with eager anticipation. "It will be a pleasure."

"Fetch me a drink. I want a better glimpse of her while she still wears her head."

Franco turned to pour a shot of liquor as Tom strolled nonchalantly toward the bound woman, hands in his pockets.

Her head sagged lacking the strength to hold it up. She looked so helpless and defeated. His gut knotted, twisting violently around his intestines. Anger warmed his veins. He balled his fists, clenching so hard that his fingertips turned white. He inhaled a deep breath, forcing himself to think straight.

Tom couched down to Ellie's little bound body, his eyes falling on her wounded wrists from being tied too tightly. Searching through the veils of tangled hair until he found her swollen, tear stricken eyes, he pushed a strand behind her ear lowing his gaze to her ripped dress noting the fresh bruises branding her silky flesh. His face fell abruptly into stern lines. His hand supporting her chin, he tenderly caressed the dried blood from her chin that had seeped from her torn lip. "Did they hurt you?" He whispered.

She jerked as if she had just woken from a nightmare, eyes wide, lips trembling as she murmured faintly. "Not yet." She knew what he meant without him having to say it. It was obviously she had been beaten, but Tom was not inquiring about physical abuse.

"Did you come to watch?" She hissed, tears blooming within her anguished eyes. She had not cried until now. A sinking feeling invaded her stomach. He had been inside of her. He knew her intimately. The thought that he could have her murdered and gang raped after their intimacy was more than she could bear. Desperation flowed through her like an icy wave.

"No, Ellie. I have come to take you home."

Tom turned and stood in front of Ellie, using his body as a body shield, facing the Mexican as he approached drink in hand.

Anger lanced his chest, the pain suffocating. He opened and closed his fists, glaring at Franco. "If you were as smart, as powerful as I then you would know that there is a possibility that this woman carries my unborn child."

"I..I had no idea that you even knew her...I.." Franco held out the palms of his hands taking a step back. The perverse grin from before depleted.

The sound of machine guns and tormented cries hailed from outside the doorway. Tom smiled, a fierce hatred filled his piercing eyes.

"Take her...please…You can have her!"

Tom's men burst in. He shakes his head at them non-verbally signifying that Franco was his.

Franco looks like a cornered fawn. There is nowhere in this world to run from Tom Hiddleston.

Tom reaches into his pocket slowly as if he doesn't have a care in the world, withdraws a pistol, and shoots Franco in his bulging gut, dropping him like a broken branch.

He strolls over to blood drooling man and glares down into his pleading reflection. "Now tell me who shall I send your head to? Your mother? Wife?"

Standing over him, eyes cold as river-washed stones, he fires a second round. This time into his heartless heart.

Ellie had slung her head down during the fight, not able to look death in the face.

"You are safe now, baby." Tom assured her as he untied her wrists.

Eyes glued to his face, she thanks him, rubbing her injured wrists. He helps her stand, her painful groan slicing into his heart.

"Put you arms around me."

Beaming of trust, she wrapped her arms around his neck like a little girl would her father. Tom was her hero. A real life hero. He lifts her as if she were light as an angel's wing.

"Keep your eyes closed." Tom said knowing the gruesome sight on the other side of the wall would wound her mentally. She was too pure to gaze upon such horror; a horror that did not faze him in the least.

Eyes closed, head to his chest, Ellie could smell the acrid odor of urine and splattered intestines nauseating her empty stomach as Tom ferried her through the death littered room. The only sound was a faint ripple of leaking blood.

Once inside the backseat of the car, she finally opened her eyes. Tom pressed her to the seat and wrapped his arms around her protectively, concern evident in his reflection.

"You killed that man like it was nothing."

"He was nothing."

"You do not fear the cartel will retaliate?"

"Ellie, you really do not know me. That is like asking a king if he fears a peasant. You have nothing to worry about. No one will ever dare seek to harm you or your family again. You are under my protection."

She slanted her face so that their eyes locked. "You hold that much power?"

"I do."

Biting her lip, she casts her eyes to his hands. She collects one and spreads his fingers, entwining hers within his. "Are your soft hands stained with much blood?"

Expanding his long fingers wide, he replied. "They are drenched, soaking red. But know this, not a drop was drawn from the innocent. I am not like the drug cartel."

She places his palm to his heart and says, "You have a good heart, Tom. I can feel its potency. There are not words to express how thankful I am to you."

"None are needed, Ellie." He cooed, kissing her on the forehead, drawing her head to his chest.