Author's Comments: Alright, since I'm in a good mood, and it's Spring, and you buttered me up . . . oh, and I'm about three chapters ahead already . . . here ya go.

Chapter Seven

It took a few seconds for Olivia to realize that the whippings had stopped for now, but she took in deep gulps of air, preparing for the next blow. Her head hung from exhaustion that stole every last bit of her muscle strength. Her back on fire, swollen and raw, she waited, tortured by the suspense of silent air. It almost scared her more than the beatings, because it might mean he was done with her, in which case he would be ready to end her life.

She opened her eyes. Tucker stood directly in front of her, raping her with his penetrating gaze, stroking his erection with his hand. She closed her eyes again, not wanting to witness him climax from her suffering. A knock on the door caused her to jump, and her eyes shot open just in time to see Tucker zipping up his pants.

"Don't make a sound," he scowled at her before retreating to his living room.

Elliot crowded the door, waiting for Tucker to answer it. The silence lasted so long that he thought it might be useless to wait. Still, he pounded on the door again, determined not to give up until he was positive Tucker wasn't there with Liv. Fin stood so close behind him, Elliot could almost feel the man's breath on his neck. He began to estimate how hard it would be to break in.

A clacking noise sounded through the door, and Elliot exhaled, relieved that he had a live human being to speak to. The door opened a sliver, and then just wide enough for Tucker's head to peer out. Elliot could just barely see the man's white collared shirt, loose and mis-buttoned.

"What's this?" said Tucker, not opening the door any wider.

Elliot tried to play it cool, not wanting to spook Tucker. "Just looking for Liv. She hasn't been home, and the baby-sitter says she was due home long ago."

"She's not here, sorry. I'll try to call her, let you know if I hear from her."

Elliot nodded curtly, toying with the idea of shoving his foot in the door to keep it open. Instead, he said, "Can we come in and talk to you? Just for a minute."

Tucker rubbed the back of his head. "Nah, man. Normally I would, but I've been under the weather today."

Elliot wanted to barge in, but he had no legitimate reason to, and Olivia could have gone somewhere else besides Tucker's place. If he broke into the guy's home without a warrant, it would earn him some serious grief with the FBI. Still, he lingered for a moment, trying to think of a reason to stall Tucker.

And then a faint, muffled moan floated from somewhere back in the recesses of Tucker's apartment, and that was Elliot's signal to act. He slammed the door back, jamming it into Tucker's face and knocking the man off-balance. Without hesitating, he sprang through the doorway and jabbed Tucker with his fist before the guy could recover from the last blow. But Tucker was solid—he got his balance back fast, and began to raise his right hand, which Elliot now saw contained a gun. Elliot kicked Tucker's hand away and the gun went flying, and then Fin was able to jump into the action, taking a swipe at Tucker from the side.

Tucker shook his head in surprise, giving Elliot just enough time to draw his own gun and point it straight at Tucker's head. "Freeze," he shouted. "Now where's Liv?"

To his left, Fin got busy sweeping the rooms, looking for any signs of movement. When he reached the bedroom he said, "El, you better get in here. Now."

"Put your hands up and turn around," Elliot said to Tucker, who glared at him but obeyed slowly. Elliot slapped some handcuffs on him and pulled him along into the bedroom.

But he forgot about Tucker for a second when he witnessed the most obvious sight in the room—Olivia naked, hanging from a meat hook, looking like a limp rag doll that a child had abandoned. Fin stood at her side, trying to hoist her up, but didn't have much luck with Olivia's sagging body. Elliot turned to Tucker and barked, "Sit down on the floor."

Tucker complied, and Elliot took one glance at the stripes on Olivia's back and turned back toward Tucker. "You piece of shit," he said through gritted teeth, kicking Tucker so hard in the chin that it knocked him out cold.

Then Elliot tucked his gun back into his holster and turned his attention to Olivia, coming up on her other side. Her head wobbled forward, and he said to her, "Liv, we're going to get you down now."

Fin and Elliot lifted her up, trying to avoid touching the whip marks on her back, but she still whimpered and sucked air through her teeth. Elliot had to reach up while holding her by the waist and maneuver her arms so that the rope would come off the hook. Finally, it worked, and her arms flopped down in front of her.

They lowered her gently, and as soon as her feet touched the ground, she tried to stand, but her wobbling legs collapsed underneath her. Elliot and Fin caught her and lowered her to the ground, placing her on her side, and Elliot tinkered with the gag in her mouth until he could get the damn thing undone.

"Oh, my God," said Fin, and Elliot didn't want to look away from her face, but he had to see how bad she was hurt. Straight lines criss-crossed her back and buttocks, and some of the marks oozed dark red, shiny with blood. Pieces of flesh had been peeled back from the force of the whip, and Elliot's cheeks flushed hot with tears and anger, but he bit it all back for her sake.

"I'll call it in," said Fin, and he turned away from her and got busy on his phone.

"Liv, it's okay. You're safe now," Elliot said, bringing his attention back to her furrowed brow as she seethed from the pain. He stroked her arm with his hand and said, "I'll be right back."

As much as he hated to use anything of Tucker's, Elliot reluctantly plied the man's bedsheet from his bed and snatched a pillow. Returning to Olivia's side just as Fin cut the ropes off her pale, blood-drained hands, Elliot gently lifted her head to prop the pillow underneath it, and then carefully lowered the sheet over her body. She winced, closing her eyes, and shivered underneath the blanket.

Her hand peeked out from under the cover, and he used the opportunity to snatch it up in his, and he couldn't help but worry about how cold it was. She clutched her fingers tightly around his, squeezing as hard as she could with the miniscule strength she had left. So far she hadn't spoken, and he hadn't tried to prompt her to, hoping instead she would conserve her energy. But now her eyes met his and her voice came out, soft yet gravelly, rasping, "W-where have you been?"

It was the last thing he expected to hear from her. Where had he been? What did she mean? He had gotten here as soon as he could.

But he chalked it up to shock from the trauma, and pulled the cover up to her ear, still clutching her hand tightly in his. "Shh . . . it's okay, Liv. I'm here now."