Title: Opposites Attract
Chapter 26 - Kidnapped!

"You know all these years you never figured it out, never thought to look at me did you? Always the quiet ones, didn't you tell me that at one time? Well that ends tonight. By the time they figure out you're missing, we'll be long gone," Charles taunts me. "And your end will be anything but quiet...well at least for me to hear."

I once again try to struggle in vain which only elicits a few small laughs from his wife who comes and stands behind me, playing with my hair and face with her evil fingers. I jerk my head away but she grabs the knot of the gag and painfully pulls my head back even further; straining my neck; making my breathing shallow once again. I try to pull away but am held fast in her mean grasp; her eyes, much like her husband and cold and evil and I only see my death in their reflection.

"Sorry Detective Taylor, but if I want to have my way with you I will," she smiles down at me. I offer only a scowl and try in vain to yank my head free to which she just bends down, kisses my cheek and smiles; forcing me to I offer a muffled curse into the gag. After a few more minutes of toying with me, she finally lets my head go and I close my eyes to try to get the room to stop spinning.

"You know my dear," Charles starts from behind. "Maybe Detective Taylor is not in a very playful mood because he needs his snack. Hard to be playful on an empty stomach. Hungry Taylor? Since I know you never eat very much."

I watch him slowly walk around and come and stand in front of me with a needle in his hand; my heart rate now starting to once again near critical. I gulp back my fear but I know he can tell I'm scared. And I have every right to be; whatever the hell is in that needle will either speed up my demise or render me helpless so he can take his time.

Oh Stella, I need you know. Please tell you got my call.

XXXXXXXX

I am very tempted to stop by Mac's apartment but I'm sure at this hour he's still at work trying to prove his theory about who is really behind the murderers. It was just an odd coincidence that some of the DNA found matched old cases. It was right? Nothing more to it?

My mind now has doubts and I hate that I am now questioning the arrest. My mind goes over once again all the things we found and the evidence was conclusive; James Marshal is the man who killed those boys. But it was a bit too neatly presented for us; we didn't have to hunt for anything. And the man who stalked Mac and trapped us and played those games didn't seem like he'd be the kind of man who would just up and take his life just like that; certainly not one who would just up and take his life and leave everything out in the open for us to find. Trap doors, hidden spears, boxes in the wall; and then nothing?

"Oh now you sound like Mac," I scold myself. But as I sit in the truck I can't help but feel that something isn't adding up; something is missing but I'm at a loss to see what it is. Now I'm starting to think like him, I lightly scold myself. I reach over for my purse but press down on the soft leather, not knowing that my phone is just underneath. And with one press of a button it wipes out the missed call from Mac; a call that will forever haunt me.

I pull out my phone and look at it in misery. "No call, no message." But the feeling inside won't go away; so I call Flack. "Did Mac call?"

"No, why what's going on?"

"Don, something is off, I don't know what it is, but something in my gut says this was just too neatly presented for us. This guy lured me and Mac to an amusement park; let an elaborate trap capture us, toyed with us and then just takes his life? He rigs a spear for Mac and then has a hidden box in the wall waiting for us and he just happens to leave everything out in the open for us to find?"

"Stella we got the guy and this case is now over. Don't tell me you're starting to buy his paranoia? Paula said he gets like that sometimes," Flack sighs.

"I know," I reply. "I just can't help but feel that something is off."

"Did you go and see Paula?"

"Yeah, she's still in the coma," I reply in sorrow. "I know something is wrong. But I don't want to go to his apartment or seem like I'm being some kind of stalking girlfriend! Oh Don, tell me what to do or I'm going to hang myself with the short rope," I lightly frown. "If it was you, what would you want Jessica to do? Just give up on you and do nothing, accept defeat?"

XXXXXXXX

"Well Taylor, I would really like you to try this," Charles smiles as me as he nods to his wife. "Trust me; this will make all your troubles go away. Well maybe not yours but it will help ease some of my troubles."

I look at him in anger but know that I have no where else to go. What the hell is in that, is all my brain will now allow me to ponder? A quick death? If he goes through with what he has planned for my personal demise; maybe I should pray for a quick ending.

"The three of us are going to take a little trip. Oh don't worry you'll like it. Someplace special to all of us, one you know well; a place a special promise was made," he mocks. "And in this needle is to something help me control you for once. That's right Mr. Marine, I know you could probably figure out a way to get out of those ropes sooner or later, so this is going to ensure you can't. It's a little homemade mixture of morphine, a mussel relaxant, a mild sedative and a few other things to keep you awake but subdued oh and a little numb. But it will wear off when I need it to. Like when I start cutting you, then I want you to feel every painful stroke! And if you feel sick, CHOKE ON IT! That gag stays in. I'm sick of hearing your voice. The time to beg for your life or my mercy ended long ago."

I finally get the surge of energy I have been waiting for and so waste no time in making use of it and push myself to my feet, drop my shoulder and charge Charles. He falls down and thankfully I keep my footing. My brain quickly reminds me the door is locked and so I rush for the window; the only one I see.

"Yeah nice try Taylor," Charles laughs as I throw myself at the window. Sadly, much to my horror the window is barred and so instead of landing outside and taking advantage of a possible getaway, I only succeed in spraying myself with glass, opening small cuts as I slam to the floor in a sweaty captive heap. Charles rushes for me, grabs my leg and then pulls me back into the middle of the room where I am dumped before my captors once again.

"Why do you think I restrained you like that? I didn't have to with those boys, they took my stuff willingly! But I knew you wouldn't. Course your useless attempts at escape are rather amusing. SINCE THERE WILL BE NO ESCAPE FROM ME THIS TIME!" He kicks me hard in the side and my eyes instantly water; another kick like that and a few ribs I'm sure will break.

XXXXXXXX

"What would I want Jessica to do? I'd want her to be worried sick enough to come and check on me," Flack sighs heavily. "Of course that's what I'd want her to do. To be doing what you're doing right now, pacing and fretting and doubting the fact that I pushed her away. Oh I'd tell her not to bother but deep inside I would want her to show up and convince me that I need her in my life and I would take her back. Go to his office, you know it's what you want to do. You go there and I guarantee he'll be so relieved that he's not doing this alone that you two will probably kiss and make up before the hour is up. Mabye more."

"Thanks Don," I smile as I hang up. Inside I knew I was going to do that but I just needed to hear a guy's point of view; mostly so I could convince myself so that if by some slim chance it turns out to be a mistake and Mac pushes me away again I can tell myself I did all I could.

"So Mac's at work, then that's where I'll go and find him. Nice try Taylor, thinking you could get rid of me that easily."

XXXXXXXX

"Okay so since we need to get a few things ready and I see that I can't afford to leave you on your own but I can't be here, Marla darling if you please," Charles smiles as I watch Marla throw him some more rope. He tightly ties my feet together and I'm finally immobilized; helpless and at their mercy, an offering to whatever they have in store for me. "But in case you were worried about your snack," he tells me as he kneels down, wraps his arm around my neck and gently squeezes. I lightly cough, but the gag in my mouth affords me little fresh air and soon I am gasping for oxygen.

Charles just laughs and I feel him harshly push the needle into my neck, injecting the cool contents into my vein. He fairly tosses me back to the floor and then leaves me alone in the room; bathed in my own sweat and morbid fear.

A few minutes later my body starts to feel the effects of the drugs; and with an empty stomach I know I'll be sick in no time. And if I'm unable to throw any of it out; I'll have no choice but to swallow it back down; letting it eat away at my stomach, burning my lungs. My body starts to lightly convulse and I know he's added something with a little kick to it. I start to feel my heart starting to race; my eyes water and blur, my core temperature rises and I'm in real trouble.

Stella, my mind calls in agony, help me.

XXXXXXXX

I stop outside Mac's building and take a few deep breaths. My mind is already weary, thinking of excuses or counterarguments to whatever Mac might throw at me to try to push me away; telling me once again it's for my own good. But I need him in my life; how do I make him believe the same about me? Something inside, however, tells me that something is wrong. I don't know what it is and maybe it's just me wondering what Mac will say; but a part of my brain is trying to convey a message that Mac is in trouble; I would later curse myself for not trying to hear it sooner.

What will I say? I was just stopping by to see if you wanted dinner? No that sounds lame since I know he never eats. I lean back in my seat and take a deep breath. Think Stella, what's a good excuse? The truth? That I want to help even though I might not fully believe or understand? Think he'd go for that?

"What have I got to lose?" I whisper into the silent truck. "He'd appreciate the truth; Mac always has."

XXXXXXXX

I try to force myself to focus on anything other than my current miserable situation but I just can't. My body is on fire but for some reason I can't make myself do anything other than just lay here in misery. I hear loud angry footsteps coming back and pretty soon Charles stomps up to me glares down at me in anger; his evil eyes looking at me with haunting images displayed for my personal misery.

"Marla my dear, are we ready?"

"All set," she smiles.

I feel Charles pick me up and sling me over his shoulder as we walk out the back door. Panic fills me as I try to twist myself out his grasp, mostly to buy time; but his grip around my waist tightens and I'm going nowhere unless they say so. I am carried into some kind of large dark vehicle and then taken into the back and thrown down on my side on something soft and then I hear door slam shut. Panic grips me even harder, as I feel the vehicle starting to pull away. I try to struggle but it's short lived; my limbs are mostly useless and my whole body is tired and weak; my heart almost ready to explode. I'm being kidnapped by two of the worst human beings on this planet and am helpess to alert anyone to my situation. Stupid! I scold myself. Why the hell didn't I bring backup? And as I ponder my current predicament I realize that being right this time around, means nothing.

"Just rest now Taylor," Charles laughs at me. "And don't try to pull," he instructs as he wraps something around my neck and then fastens it behind me. "If you pull, you hang yourself," he laughs as he slaps me in the face. "And that would ruin all my fun."

My brain comprehends that he leaves my side and heads into the front but I am failing to register much else thanks to the drugs dancing around in my usually focused brain. It's dark and I'm on a soft surface which I surmise is a traveling bed of some kind but the rest of the details are moot. I close my watery eyes; trying to blink away fresh tears but I am unable.

Stella, I try in anguish, please find me in time.

XXXXXXXX

I stare blankly at Mac's building; my heart still racing and part of me hesitates, wondering if I should even venture inside. However, I finally push my nagging doubts aside, paste on a firm smile, take a deep breath and push myself out of the truck and head inside to find Mac. The building is quiet with only a few people working and Ralph, his lab tech. I offer a smile as I head for his office only to find it quiet and empty.

"Mac?" I call out softly. I assume he's either downstairs or elsewhere in the lab so I start to slowly wander around, looking for him. As I came in the front of the building I have no idea that his truck is no longer parked downstairs.

I head into Wally's lair and frown. "Has Mac been around?"

"Haven't seem for a spell my dear," he casually replies.

"Thanks," I offer softly as I head back upstairs. I finally walk all the way into his office and stare at the writing on the board. "Who is Jacob Gibbons?" I wonder out loud. I pull out my phone; very tempted to call Mac. But I don't want to seem I'm chasing him when maybe he just needs his space so decide to give him a few minutes to return.

"Where are you Mac?" I ask in quiet misery.

XXXXXXXX

I try to twist myself around but whatever he's wrapped around my neck starts to tighten a bit and I have no choice but to remain as I am. My brain tries to tell me to pull my wrists free but I have no strength left in any of my limbs and so can only lay on my side in tormented defeat. I have already swallowed bile down once and my stomach is now on fire and I really want to throw up.

I try to blink away some of the water out of my eyes to get them to focus on anything; I need to keep my brain occupied, as right now it will only offer visions of me being knifed to death in a slow painful manner. My brain finally registers Marla Gibbons as she kneels down in front of me. I think the drugs are slowing a little but I'm still sluggish and have no fight left; just as they planned. She flips on a small inside light and I can finally see I'm inside a van, on a small bed and there are no windows to the world outside. No one travelling past would ever guess that I am inside; captive and trapped against my will; about to meet my painful end.

"Hello Detective Taylor," she smiles as she holds up a knife for me to see. "My turn for some fun."

I eye the knife and gulp back my fear. Already? I mumble into the gag but she just presses the knife against my flushed face and I quickly stop; closing my eyes and waiting for the worst. Thankfully she only presses the knife on my face and doesn't actually cut my face; however I think that reality will be short lived the longer I am in their grasp.

"You know you're a handsome man. I can change that," she tells me as I feel my anger starting to grow. She continues to play with my face, her fingers tracing the edge of the gag and moving to my neck as I try in vain to jerk myself free of her grasp. She grabs a handful of sweaty hair and yanks my face back to hers; tightening the noose around my neck. I lightly cough into the gag and she pushes my head back.

"If you pull away from me again, I'll cut you!" She snaps in anger. I watch her eyes looking at my chest and soon the knife is near my dress shirt and she has a hold of the fabric; an evil grin starting to form on her wicked lips.

"Now, let's see what you keep underneath," she smiles. I feel the knife enter the fabric and with one swift motion my dress shirt is sliced all the way open, leaving only my black t-shirt left as a last vestige of protection against that blade.

"Are you afraid of dying?" She asks me in a casual manner, slicing the arms of the dress shirt and pulling it completey free.

Not death itself, I want to yell at her. I have never been afraid of death; maybe dying alone but I do fear dying before ever telling Stella the actual words, 'I love you'. That's what I'm afraid of. And somehow I feel now that she'll never know the truth from me and at that moment I curse my very existence.

Stella, one day I pray you'll be able to forgive me.

XXXXXXXX

As I wait for Mac to return I can't help but stare at the board in wonder before Ralph walks past Mac's office. My eyes taking in all Mac's handwriting, before resting on the files and clippings from the past cases he had worked on. What angle was he seeking, I can't help but wonder.

"Is he not back yet?" Ralph asks me casually. "I have more stuff for him."

"No. Where did he go?" I ask in haste.

"He thought it might be Charles Gibbons," Ralph frowns.

"I see that but who's Charles Gibbons?"

"Short version? It was a case a few years back that Mac tried to set up to bring in this serial. A young man named Jacob Gibbons came to Mac for help as he felt he was being stalked and Mac tried to set things up so that the killer would be caught trying to go after Jacob. Mac ran out of time and Charles arrived to hold his son's body as he died. He blamed Mac; even vowed revenge but when nothing came of it, we all thought it was just an idle threat of a grieving parent. Long version is in the files; but I warn you it's a gruesome read."

"And now?" I ask with a sinking feeling as I look at the names on the board. "Mac thinks it could be him?"

"Well it was later discovered that the Gibbons were suspected of knife slayings that covered a few years before they met Mac and before Jacob was killed and evidence was finally brought against them. They were both arrested and supposed to be sent for Psychiatric evaluation to see if they were fit to stand trial. But apparently there were some technicalities and both walked. Mac uncovered the names and I guess he just wanted to talk to him to confirm that for himself."

"But these names all add up to Jacob Gibbons," I mention in dread. "Even the Bryce boys," I offer in dread.

"Mac's a smart guy," Ralph frowns.

"Yeah who went to see a possible vengeful killer alone," I utter as I reach for the phone. I dial Mac's number and get nothing. And then I dial Flack.

"I think we might have a problem."

"Mac?"

"Don, he put together the list of all the unsolved boys' deaths and they spell a name from a case that Mac worked on a few years back. I think Charles Gibbons planned this whole thing; used our suspects to lead us where he wanted and now Mac went to have a showdown with him; alone!"

"Where is he?" Flack asks me.

"Ralph? Where did Mac go?"

Ralph gives me the address and I relay it to Flack. "Wait for him there," Flack instructs me.

"Oh like hell, you better pick me up or I'll meet you there."

"See you soon," he says hanging up.

"He knifed those boys to death..." my voice trails off in a dead whisper as I look at the piece of paper in my hand. "Ralph these people were once both locked away from society because of extreme violent episodes and sadistic torture. They have a history of deadly violence. He knew all this and still went alone?"

"Mac's okay," Ralph tries to assure me. "He's pretty good at getting out of a tight spot."

I offer only a weak frown as Ralph turns and leaves. I look once more at the information on Mac's writing board before rushing out the door to wait for Flack.

"These people are monsters. Oh Mac," I whisper in torment. "What have I done? Why didn't I listen! Where are you?"

XXXXXXXX

Marla Gibbons continues to taunt me with the knife as the van presses onward into the night. I try to think of a place he might be taking me as my final resting spot, but once again the drugs in my system fail to allow me a reasonable guess. I hear her ask another question but I simply look away; obviously not to her liking as she brings the knife to my shoulder and opens a small cut in the tender flesh.

I yell into the gag which only makes her smile at me.

"Next time look at me when I'm talking to you Taylor!" She finishes with a shout.

Although the pain isn't as bad as I assume it should be, thanks to the damn drugs in my system, I can feel the sensation starting to burn inside my stomach. She drags the blade in my blood and then brings it to my face for me to see. I finally hear Charles call to her and she takes the knife, sticks it into a table across from me and leaves.

I am once again left in silent torment as my eyes can only fix themselves on that bloody blade a few feet away. My brain is trying to tell me to sit up and take a chance at getting it. Oh if only my body would comply. I try to once again pull at my wrists but I only succeed in making the ropes cut further into my flesh and working myself into a useless sweat. I try to force my brain to imagine I'm with Stella; in her arms and her kissing me, but all I feel is sharp pain when I try to move and those images quickly fade. I offer only a grunt into the gag as I hear footsteps once again approaching me.

I look up in fear as Charles looms over me. "Don't worry, not there yet," he chides as he kneels down before me. "My turn."

I try to offer a scowl but as he leans in closer I can only look back in fear and wonder.

"Never thought I'd see fear in those cold blue eyes of yours Taylor," he mocks. "What are you afraid of?"

I narrow my eyes at him and he just smiles.

"I see Marla has already made her mark," he tells me; eyeing the fresh wound on my shoulder. "I think she enjoyed it. Oh don't worry, she'll be able to enjoy as much of you as she wants before I finally deliver the death stroke. But for now," he says leaning in close. His fingers latch onto the cut and he presses down hard; making me yell into the gag and my eyes water.

"I wonder what Stella would say if she could see you like this?" He asks, lightly shaking his head at me.

She'd kick your ass.

XXXXXXXX

"He'll be okay," Flack tries to assure me with a firm nod.

"Don, these people did horrible things. They are sadistic and love to slowly torture their captives to death. I try to tell myself that Mac isn't with them and that he's safe and found a new angle but all I can see is us finding his body all carved up like those boys!" I lightly snap in anger; mostly anger at myself for not listening.

"Stella, I'm sorry...we'll find him," Flack tries again.

The rest of the ride to the Gibbons is spent in quiet misery. Why didn't I just listen to him? Why didn't I at least listen to all the facts he was wanting to present, even if they didn't make sense to me? I wanted the case to be over so badly so that Mac and I could finally focus on us. Now as I near the dark house my panic starts to rise and I'm in dreadful doubt. What if something happened to him? Our last discussion on this earth was one of heated misery and doubt? What if he is dead and I'll have to live with that guilt for the rest of my life? Never telling the man I know I love that I actually love him? Or worse him dying with me telling him he cared only about himself? Oh Stella, what have you done?

"Don't see his truck," Flack comments and I'm forced back to reality.

"Maybe he left," I offer in optimism as Flack stops the car and we both look around. I try Mac's cell again but get nothing in the way of a return.

"He's not picking up."

"Let's just go and see if they are home, just to be sure," Flack comments.

"Quiet neighborhood," I mention as Flack and I slowly head for the front door.

"Mr. Gibbons?" Flack asks loudly as he pounds on the front door.

Silence.

"Flack I hate this. Something is wrong, I just know it," I lightly moan as I move forward and try the door handle. When he slowly pushes open I look at Flack with a frown before drawing my gun.

"Just hang behind me," Flack directs and I only offer a nod of agreement. As Flack pushes the door open, my mind flashes me images of us finding Mac's dead body and I actually feel my stomach lurch.

"Mr. Gibbons? NYPD!" Flack calls out as he too draws his gun and prepares to enter.

"NYPD!"

We slowly walk into the main entranceway and I flip on a nearby light switch. I quickly look around and dont find much; unaware that they have done an expert job in cleaning up any trace of Mac's existence and recent capture. We stare into the empty house before us but from a quick first glance nothing seems out of place.

"I hate places this quiet," I note as I head further into the house. "Hello?" I call out.

Silence once more.

"Odd this door doesn't have a handle," Flack comments and I look at him in shock. "Now I have a bad feeling. If Mac came here, confronted them and Charles invited him in," he starts. "And then confessed about all those murders and Mac.."

"And he couldn't escape; he could have just trapped Mac and then killed him?" I manage weakly. "Don, I have to believe he's still alive and here somewhere. We have to find him."

"I'll check the rest of the house, just look around here and try not to panic," Flack directs as he leaves me alone. I look around the empty room and feel my eyes water.

"Talk to me Mac, where are you?" I ask in anguish; my brain racing with a million different terrifying scenarios; sadly all ending the same, Mac dying alone; calling to me for help. I start to slowly wander around the main living area; my brain trying to tell myself that Mac is just simply taking a few minutes to rest someplace. But we called the hospital on the way and he wasn't there. "Oh that's just stupid, he wouldn't go anywhere else," I scold myself as I wander to the window. "Home?" Tried that also and only got empty rings.

I notice that only one of the windows has a slight red mark on the shade, which is now pulled down and so I gently peer behind it.

But when I see the broken glass my heart stops short. Why is this glass broken like that? Did Mac try to escape? I quickly pull it up and look at the cut glass in horror; my eyes resting on the bars; making sure anyone trying to escape wasn't able to. "Flack!" I yell and am rewarded with footsteps hurrying back to me.

"Stella, this place is empty," he offers in defeat.

"This blood is fresh," I tell my as my eyes start to water. "It has to be..."

"We don't know for sure if it's Mac's," he directs. I quickly feel around for some gloves, find one in my pocket and pull it on. I pluck out a small shard of glass and carefully wrap it in the glove. "I need to get this back to the lab and see if it's Mac's," I tell him in a hurry.

"I just need to check the rest of the house," Flack tells me. "He could still be here."

"Right," I frown but inside I just know something is wrong. "Oh Mac, what have I done?"

XXXXXXXX

"Well she might either think you are pathetic or just plain stupid!" Charles shouts as he presses further into the open cut, drawing more blood and forcing me to squeeze my eyes shut in pain. He finally let's go and I once again can breathe.

He slowly pulls the knife out of the place Marla had left it and brings it back to my face. My eyes want to focus on anything but the blade dancing before it but for some reason that's all they are fixed on.

"Ever wonder what Jacob thought as he was about to die? Well, Taylor, do you?" Charles asks gruffly. "His last thought before his life was taken? I sometimes wonder? Do you? Ever think about what your last thought will be before I take your life? How about the last words you ever spoke to Stella? DO YOU!"

I look at him; for the first time begging for forgiveness; mumbling a chance to beg that I'm sorry.

"Nice try Taylor," he snaps. "Why do you think that gag is staying in? So you can't try to talk your way out of your future!" And without warning he uses the butt end of the knife to strike me in the face; further opening a cut above my eye. It now can only blink back blood and tears but I just look at him with anger.

"I came to you for help. Begged and pleaded for justice for my boy. And you promised me; promised me justice for him. WELL YOU LIED!" He screams at me as he hits me again. This time my head snaps to the side and my vision blurs. He quickly presses the blade to my neck and holds it against my sweaty skin; forcing my heart to near critical.

"Shall I end it right now? SHALL I?" He yells.

XXXXXXXX

I hear Flack moving around the rest of the house while my trembling hands try to hold the piece of glass in it. I have already called Danny and Lindsay to come and help but I somehow feel that call might be in vain.

"Stella!" Flack yells from another part of the house and I instantly fear the worst. I head for the kitchen and see Flack standing by the basement door. "Found some more fresh blood," he motions to the door frame. He slowly opens the basement door and I can only listen to the silence; my gun ready for action.

"Mac!" Flack yells out.

Silence once again.

Flack flips on the light switch and we both start to slowly head down the stairs; our heart rates both nearing critical. We reach the bottom and stop and look around.

"I hate this; it's way too quiet," Flack whispers.

"Nothing looks out of place," I mention until my eyes rest on something odd in the corner. "Flack," I pipe up. "Look at that."

It is a picture of Jacob Gibbons on top of a box that is gift wrapped. Flack heads for the box and then gathers it up and brings it to me.

"A present for Jacob?" He asks with a frown. "Who is Jacob?"

"Their son who was killed," I offer in a soft torment. "Open it. He can't use whatever is in there now. Let's see what final gift they left their son," I utter fatefully.

But as Flack starts to open the box and then slowly pry the lid away my heart stops.

"Stella..."

"Oh. My. God."

XXXXXXXX

"Oh I'd like to end it right now for us both," Charles continues his threat as he presses the blade further into the folds of my neck. "One swift cut and that's it. YOUR LIFE IS OVER!" He shouts in my face. "But I'm not going to," he huffs. "The man who killed Jacob took his time and so will I."

I offer a small swallow and he finally pulls the blade away and pushes himself back upright. He glares down with an evil grin.

"Marla," he mentions loudly and my brain starts to panic once again. "You left his undershirt in tact!"

"Couldn't allow myself the complete pleasure of undressing him that quickly," she calls back and I just close my eyes and offer a prayer; knowing what they have in mind for my next bout of torment.

"Do you mind if I have that pleasure?" Charles asks her, and I once again force my eyes open to look up in fear.

"He's all yours," she replies.

Charles takes one hand, holds the bottom of my t-shirt, which he pulled from my pants and then sticks the knife into my belly. He finally rips open my t-shirt all the way to the top. The blade, however, digs into my flesh and I can only scream out as he finally opens a shallow slice on my chest; my blood now starting to slowly seep from the wound, run into the folds of my shredded clothing and then onto the soft surface I am force to be held captive on; and while I know the cut wasn't deep enough to do any permanent damage, the searing pain inside is enough to make me want to fall into darkness.

My eyes start to water and only small painful circles are offered as he just stands back and laughs. My stomach tries to vomit but thanks to the gag I have to swallow it back down; further adding to my misery. Even being captured by a wartime enemy wasn't this vengeful.

"Gee Taylor, for a minute there I thought you'd bleed blue," he taunts. "

I try to yell that it wasn't my fault but sadly all that escapes the thick gag in my mouth is muffled screams. My breathing is ragged as I finally know why he gave me the drugs. Thanks to the Morphine and relaxant, my body refuses to cooperate and fight back and I can only lay here and feel every second of pain this man intends to inflict on me; which I don't think is going to end any time soon.

Stella, my mind tries to call in agony. Help me! Please...before it's too late!

XXXXXXXX

My eyes only offer fresh tears as I gaze upon Mac's jacket covered with bloody shards of glass, from the window I presume that he tried to escape out of; his Marine pin is stained red instead of its usual silver. Pieces of his phone with my name still on the display are on top of his jacket and his badge and gun, wallet and keys are also tucked inside; everything that was on him when he was taken. Reminders of a man I love who is now in the hands of a monster that wants nothing more but to end his very existence.

"I did this," I offer in anguish; my whole body now trembling, my eyes fixed on my own name on Mac's bloody phone. "Flack, I did this to Mac. I didn't listen to him and now he's alone and going to die alone like he was told he would be."

Flack takes a small card and reads it out loud; further adding to my everlasting torment.

'Jacob, the man responsible for your death is now mine. Rest in peace my son. I'm sending Taylor to hell just as you would have wanted me to.' Love dad.

"This guy has kidnapped Mac," I can only whimper as I look at Flack in misery. "He's going to kill him like the killed those boys."

Flack pulls out his phone and starts to talk. I can only stand in numb silence; my hands clutching the last few items that Mac had on him when he came here to bring down a madman. He came here alone; because he had to prove he was right. And in the end? He was right. But at this point in time none of that matters; all that matters is that right now I think I might have lost him forever.

"Mac will die alone," I utter in horror as I slowly start to sag to the floor in torment; crying. "I've lost him forever and it's all my fault."

A/N: Okay don't hate me but Mac's gonna endure a bit of hell...come on though my SMACKED stories always has a happy ending...when it comes! Lol...which won't be for a bit yet...any guesses as to what Mac has to further endure? And is Charlie the most evil villain of all time or what? Ha-ha sorry had to throw that in. please review as always you know the reward!