A/N: First, my apologies about slow updates, but that's the reason I've got some good and bad news:
Good News: I will post what's ever left of this story, and any other stories that I have on my computer, hopefully in a timely fashion.
Bad News: I think I'll be taking a hiatus on here. My finals are right around the corner, literally, so I have a ton of studying I need to do. But that's not the main reason I'm taking a break: it's more for personal reasons. I'm okay, if anyone cares, lol. But, I feel I need to really crack down on what I want to pursue in the future to keep a roof over my head for when that time comes. Living in my parents' house is not my goal and is not what I want to be doing when I'm in my thirties. lol. I may come on with updates once in a while, if I feel up to it, or whatever, but for the most part I probably won't be available for beta requests or other stuff like that. So yeah, have a good year.
Regarding this chapter's rating: I am going to divide the T from M with a line. The scene was really gruelling to write, since I don't particularly like diving into details, but because writers must go out of their comfort levels occasionally, I did. So yeah.
Rated M: violence, language, sexual assault, whatever else I'm forgetting at this time...
Oh yeah, forgot about putting these on: Disclaimer: the characters belong to Dick Wolf, except my own.
A/N: I should really thank you all for reviewing, following, and favoriting. So thank you for reading!
Aspurgeon you just might be onto something? lol ;)
January 26, 2015: 3,271 words
Chapter 6
Rapidly I hammer on the petite, glass, window pane causing the door to throb.
"I'm coming! I'm coming!" A woman's hurried voice replies.
"Please help us!" I can't stop my palm from beating against the window. The door swings open wide, and I catch my hand before smacking her face. "Call 911 please! We need help!" My breath huffs unevenly as I cuddle Noah.
"Olivia?" The woman gasps.
"...Susan?" I exclaim in equal astonishment.
"Oh my God, what happened? What's wrong?" My long-lost friend ushers us inside her cozy abode.
"We need help, please. This is Noah, my son." Noah waves timidly and clings tighter to my shirt. "My partner's in there!" I point to the other house. "Please, call for help! I need to help him!" I cry in frantic.
"What do you mean? What happened?"
"I don't know, there were gunshots! Please, Susan." I fidget nervously. I start heading out, but Susan grabs my shoulders and yanks me back.
"Wait! You can't just leave! You said it yourself, "there were gunshots!" Are you crazy? You're gonna get yourself dead, and what will happen to your son, and your partner?" She pants.
"Susan, my partner could be dying in there! That other man, he's chasing after us!" I indicate both Noah and I. "I need to stop him before he finds Noah and you! It doesn't matter, I can run all I want, but he'll never stop looking for me, and he sure as hell isn't afraid to kill people to get what he wants. The only way to stop him without hurting you two is to find him first," I explain simply.
"What the hell are you involved in?" Susan mutters in an exhale.
"Just protect my son, please Susan."
She calls after me, "Liv, Liv!" Giving up, Susan places her arms akimbo. "I will, I promise I'll keep him as safe as I can." I walk to the threshold of the door. "Wait!" Susan cries as she scrambles to a drawer. "Take this." She shows a handgun in a safety box. "My husband's old revolver. It's a straight shot. Won't jam up," She explains while shoving the weapon into my clutches. "Be safe out there, stay alive, and kill the bastard who's making your life hell!"
"Thanks Susan." I offer a weak smile. "I'm sorry we had to reunite under these circumstances. Maybe we could-"
"Go Liv! There's no time! I'm calling the police!" Susan flashes her palm, stopping me mid-sentence. I nod, give her a quick hug, and bolt out of her house.
Bang! Another gunshot booms in the air.
"Elliot!" I recite as if his name were a mantra. "No, please no!"
Rounding the corner, I shimmy to the edge of the house. Gun in hand, I finger the trigger, inhale, exhale, and jerk my head forward. Clear. Tenaciously, I grip the smooth, wooden contours of the butt. My hands tremble in accordance to my racing heart. The shiny front sight creeps from behind the old bricks first, the tip of my toenail follows, soon enough my whole body reveals itself to the façade.
"N.Y.P.D.!" I shout, my tone as meek as it was the first time I encountered a door as a street cop. My foot crashes into the unlocked door, sending it flying into the wall. As trained, I crouch so my knees are loose, yet firm enough to spring into action. The barrel is stuck in line with my waist as I examine the out-of-date kitchen. My eyes scan the closets and spots all the shadows laying, waiting to be revealed.
No corner nor furniture piece is left unchecked by the time I'm through with the main rooms. The single place I have not investigated is the last bedroom in the hall. The room where either Elliot or the fiend lays to rest with a bullet in their vest. My fingers curl around the rusted knob. Nudging the steel door ajar with my shoulder blade I peek through the slim crack, but inside is unlit and nearly pitch black, as it was almost an hour ago...when we left them behind. Carefully sliding into the dark room, I tap the door shoving the deadweight further into the arena. My spare hand glides along the concrete wall in search for the light switch plate. Finding the cream toggle, my thumb cautiously bumps the lever upward. Light floods into the blank space on command. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust, but then I see him.
"Elliot!" His body slacks, held somewhat upright by fresh binds on the same chair my limbs were fastened to. My mind flashes back to the tragedy in the forensics lab where, my dear friend, O'Halloran was murdered and Stuckey ambushed Elliot. Briskly checking each direction, I hasten to Elliot and kneel as I undo the layers of tape wrapped around his ankles. "El, wake up, are you okay? Where's Lewis?" I whisper, my voice sore from dehydration.
"Behind you, my dear," Lewis announces as he fixes the gun's muzzle firmly to the base of my skull. Shit. Freezing, I close my eyes in defeat.
"Lewis? I'll give you whatever you want, just let Elliot go."
"You'll do what I want anyway. Now get up nice and easy." My pants dewrinkle as my legs straighten. "We can talk about where you got that new shiny gun later, until then, get it off your hip, on the ground, and slide it over to me." I obey without demur. "I'm so glad you decided to join us, again. I really was scared that you'd leave us behind." I visually catalogue Elliot's injuries, at least he's not bleeding profusely. Resting his palms on my shoulders Lewis whirls my body around to face him. I stare gravelly into his chestnut, marron pupils. The corner of his lip curls upward, but I remain unfazed, or at least I try to externally. Lewis continues, "But then again, I knew you'd ditch your little boy to help your pathetic old partner."
"You couldn't count on me returning," I see through part of his lie.
He admits, "Maybe so, but a gunshot, especially four of them would make any cop, especially you, come back for someone you care deeply about."
I know where this conversation is headed, and I don't like that he thinks that way about Elliot or me. "He's married," I counter defensively.
"Really? Well, according to his missing wedding band, he's not."
"Not all men wear them. Yours certainly seems to be lost."
"Honey," he scoffs harshly, "I killed the bitch after she tried to take my son away. But you're right, not all men do wear their bands. But, maybe his divorce papers will convince you otherwise." He tugs out neatly folded papers from his back pocket and waves it in front of my nose. I don't follow the white sheets as they sweep side-to-side, my eyes linger on his. Unraveling the slew before my eyes, he reads the document in a phony important tone, "This application of divorce has been initiated by petitioner Kathy Stabler request the annulment of her marriage to respondent Elliot Stabler. Blah, blah, blah." Ripping the papers away from my view, he crumbles and tosses them impetuously behind his shoulder. With a soft plop, the divorce decree lands next to the wall. "See, I told you Sweetheart. Maybe you don't know as much as you thought about your old partner. Having said that, if I'm correct, and I am, he hasn't bothered to pick up the phone and call you in quite some time." I glare at his grin with contempt. "What, it's been six, seven, eight years now? That's an awful long time to keep your ex-partner, well at least a friend out of your life. I mean if someone did that to me, well I would be like, the hell with them. But, even though he retired, abandoned you, without a word to you, you still care about him, knowing that you'll both wind up dead anyway? Why is that Olivia? Is it secretly that you have feelings for him? Do you love this man?"
"No, we were partners for twelve years, and like you said, for all I knew he was happily married."
"Awe, come on Sergeant, you really don't expect me to believe that load of crap do you? Don't tell me you didn't once act on all that sexual tension with him? Not on those long stakeouts waiting for those perps?"
"No, I did not."
"But, you want him. I can hear it in your voice."
"No."
"Really? I mean if I were you, I would have been-"
"Lewis, stop. Now. I don't have a perverted mind like you do."
"I'll take that as a compliment." His pearly whites gleam.
"Lewis, cut the crap, what do you want from me?" I say assertively as I can.
His face relaxes. "Stand still, don't move." Lewis walks to his stock of supplies. A filthy mattress rests flush against the south wall, I turn my head away in aversion.
The only thing I hear is his supplies ruffling in the chest of drawers, and the silence infests within, killing me faster. I grow impatient of waiting for his torture plans. Just kill me, and be done with it already.
"You know what? Just shoot me."
The rustling ceases, I feel his eyes on me. "That's the endgame, Sweetheart. We got a lot of shock and awe to go before we do that."
"Just shoot me, Lewis," I repeat, gritting my teeth. "You'll do it anyway. Stop wasting our time."
"Oh, but Honey, we've got all the time in the world to do everything I wanna do."
"You're wrong."
"Am I? And how is that?" He slants his head.
"My partner, my squad the entire department is hunting you down, right now. They know where we are. And as sure as I stand, they'll nail your ass to the wall once they find you."
"Really? What's their record for tracking me down, huh? As I recall, it took your squad, minimum, two whole days to find you, little Amelia, and Billy. That's not even counting the days inbetween when he escaped from Bellevue. Honey, I don't really think they're that reliable."
"You're wrong."
"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not. I honestly couldn't care less."
"Lewis, let Elliot and me go while you can."
His face harden, barely concealing his rage. "Don't fuckin tell me what to do! I'm in charge here!" His hand flies from left field and smacks my face hard.
Unperturbed, Lewis drags his chair to center stage. "Well then, we'd better get going, shan't we?" He circles behind Elliot, withdraws my glock from his waistband, and props up Elliot's chin by the gun. "How about this. I'll give you two choices. You either let me do ya on the bed with Elliot watching, or you do me long and good, and I'll let him sleep peacefully." I swallow the bile bubbling in my pit. To refuse would be traumatizing for Elliot. And agreeing would be unthinkable.
"You don't need to to do this."
"What will it be, Sergeant?" Half amused, he mocks my title. I advert my eyes, wordlessly offering my decision. "Well then," he plops down in his chair, "come 'er." My feet trudge as I mentally prepare to commit to the deal I made with the devil. Stoically, I gaze past him as I stop within a foot of him. "Get on your knees." No. Please. God. No. Betraying my wishes, I allow my knees to buckle, suddenly my weight is so heavy that I can't bare to stand anyway. "Well, I'm waiting, Darlin."
"Wait, let Elliot leave, alive."
"You know what, since you're making such a fuss, why don't I just shoot the bastard now, and still do ya?"
"No, don't shoot," I gasp, sounding utterly pathetic. He smirks at my tear filled eyes.
"Get to work then baby. We don't have all day. Unzip me." I don't move, I can't. It's like I'm frozen in time but everything else can move. He grabs my hand and latches it onto his crotch; I turn my head away in scorn. Blanketing his hand around my fingers, he guides them to his zipper. I hear the faint sound of unzipping. He deserts my hand and drops his pants. Stepping out of them, he kicks off his heavy duty boots. I shut my eyes tightly.
"Open your eyes!" I don't. Harshly, he backhands my cheek setting it on fire. My head snaps to the right. I hold my eyes close. "Open your eyes!" He commands two octaves louder. I still disobey. I won't, I can't rid myself of the only thing retaining my sanity. If I do, I won't be able to escape from this nightmare. It catches me completely off guard. One minute I'm kneeling, the next second, I'm on the ground. My right cheek is burning with pain. My eyes remain shut. "Open your eyes or I'll shoot him!" This time my eyes flash open, and before me my eyes spot the gun pointing at Elliot's hanging head. "Good girl," he speaks as if I'm his dog while he pats my head. I shift, uncomfortable with his words and the contact. "Go on, you know what to do," Lewis prompts.
Reluctantly, I reach for his crotch. Slipping my hand inside his boxers, I extract his flaccid member. I watch the pre-cum ooze out, the sight makes me nauseous. He envelopes his hand over mine, guiding my palm to rub his shaft. With every movement, his member grows more erect. Using his other hand, he fists my hair painfully so at the scalp. He's ready, but I'm not moving voluntarily.
"All right baby, go ahead. Take me in that sweet mouth of yours," he commands huskily. "And if you fuckin bite me, I swear to God, I'll shove this gun down your throat." I purse my lips tightly. He yanks my locks hard, forcing open my mouth to penetrate powerfully, sparing no room for oxygen. I gag as his head slips against the back of my throat. Grunting he demands, "Suck it, Baby. Oh come on, don't be shy. We're past that." Reluctantly, I obey.
This isn't about lust. We both know that for a fact. Dominance and power is his goal, and he's achieved it, and I can't do anything about it.
"Fuck, Oh God Liv, this feels amazing!" He throws his head back and thrusts deeper. He slows to a stop after a minute. I begin to back out, but he jerks his member back inside my mouth. "Ugh, ugh, ugh, Olivia. I'm not gonna do all the work. I wanna feel your sweet lips on me." I try to withhold tears while my head bobs as I suck his member. He takes my lifeless hand and guides it to his junk. "Massage me." I kneed his balls, to satisfy his sadistic impositions whilst reminding myself that my primary...solitary objective is preventing Elliot's death. Tears leak from the water gates, they begin trickling down my cheeks, onto him. I know he's think he's won. His dominant tendencies don't shut off for long, for he thrusts more violently and wildly. My throat is on fire, my jaw is sore from holding it open to accommodate his erratic movements.
"Ah damn-it! Olivia it's coming! Oh shit!" He screams in ecstasy as his seed catapults into my mouth.
I want to puke, feeling so sick in my stomach. I want his awful taste out of my mouth, but he makes no move to exit. I would spit it out, but his grip on my hair is too tight. I draw back, straining to fight against his strength. Finally, his grip loosens, and he shoves my face away from his thighs. Rolling to my side, facing the opposite direction of him, I gather the courage to keep my tears hidden from the world. My ears detect Lewis' activity, I thrive in the reprieve, but mind myself to refrain from becoming too attached and comfortable in the realm of protection. I lay in humiliation, my only salvation is that Elliot's asleep.
"Well, you're certainly my favorite conquest." I shut out his "compliment." He laughs throatily his entire frame bellows. The bottom half of him is still bare.
I flinch hearing a multitude of squad cars' sirens wailing near.
"Well, it appears we are just about out of time. What do ya think?"
"What do you want?" I hardly identify that the drained voice belongs to me. I shudder as I wait for his answer to thread into my ears. I'm so exhausted, hunger resisters, but passes as soon as remnants from him surface in my brain. God, I just want it to stop, just end the game of cat and mouse, end the stupid psychological shit, just God damn-it, I'm so sick and tired.
"I know what I want." Lewis paces to face me, then squats to my level to fuel his ego with my breaking spirit. "What about you?" His muscles drags my dead weight over to the edge of the floor. Propping my body against the wall, he pins my shoulders firmly against the concrete.
I scowl, lunging forward just as a jester. "I do. I know exactly what I want." Lewis nods in anticipation. "I want you dead. I want a bullet in your head."
"That's it." He nods his head eagerly as a smile plays in his eyes.
"I want you in the ground." In the back of my mind, I acknowledge that I'm only furthering his ammunition, that he wants me to react like this.
"Come on." Lewis shrugs, cocks my glock, and hands it to me. I must look like a child who has never seen a gun before. "Oh, just do it. Do it right now. Come on, while you're angry just shoot me." He pins the barrel on his chest. "Do it. It's gonna feel so good. Just shoot me. Just shoot me. Don't wait." My finger curls around the trigger. My service weapon feels like an elephant in my arms as it wavers slightly. Lewis' joint grasp relieves a portion of the weight from my whining muscles.
I want to pull the trigger, I should kill Lewis, what's stopping me? I remember after confessing to Lt. Murphy, he whispered, "You should've killed him when you had the chance."
To this day, that is one regret of three I wish I had a chance to go back in time to alter. If I could've foreseen that William Lewis would be that obsessive and driven as to murder four, assault three people, and kidnap a child just to play a final game cat and mouse with me, I would have had that bedpost murder him, or better yet, I would've fired that bullet in his temple at that beach house in Long Island. Maybe if I had thought two steps ahead, been more decisive, countless families and women would have been spared of his wicked deeds, Elliot wouldn't be here with a significantly bruised eye and oxidizing blood coating his nasal passage, and Noah would've gone on with life as a normal child not traumatized by William's father. Lewis is just as evil as his son, it would be inhuman to consciously permit any other woman, any female, or male to suffer by his bloody hands. Wouldn't it?
With new invigoration my index finger applies as much pressure as I manage to muster, and the trigger snaps.
End of Chapter TBC