Author's Comments: So to answer one of your questions—no, it's not written from personal experience. But thank you—I take that as a compliment. Although—there was that one time when my hydrocodone ran out, and . . . nevermind, lol.

Chapter Twenty-Three

"Get your hand off me, Elliot," Olivia said, glaring at him, her head lowered like a bull ready to charge.

"Okay," he said, pulling away his hand that gripped hers on top of the door handle, but he slid his entire body between her and the door just in case. "But you need to back away."

She didn't budge. "Elliot, get out of my way."

"Tell me where it is exactly that you think you're going," he said, his chest heaving, their faces so close that he could almost hear her blood boiling. He had no intention of moving, of course. There was no way he was letting her out of this apartment. What he couldn't figure out was why she wanted to leave so bad. Was she delusional? She just finished coming down from the worst high ever, and now she wanted to wander out on her own again? What could she possibly want that bad?

He could only think of one thing. But she wasn't getting it.

Her eyes narrowed into slits, the corners of her mouth lowering into a scowl. "Elliot, you can't keep me here against my will. That's kidnapping."

"Oh, yeah?" he said. "Just try calling the cops and see what happens."

Hot tendrils of breath poured from her nostrils, nearly visible. She turned the knob and pulled with all her might, but it didn't budge with the entirety of his weight pressed against it. "Get out of my way," she said, louder this time.

"Move back, Liv," he said, and this time he put his hands on her shoulders to show her he meant it.

But as soon as he touched her, a rage came into her eyes like that of a rabid dog, and she let go of the door and brought her knee up to his groin, following it quickly with an elbow to his face as he bent over in pain. He almost fell over, but caught himself just in time, reminding himself of what was at stake if she got out this door. While still leaning over, he shoved her back at her waist, knocking her to the ground, and he felt bad about it while he did it, but it got him what he wanted—her safety.

But now she was furious, and she jumped back up to her feet quickly, screaming, "Don't you ever fucking touch me!" Then she decked him in the face before he could get his hands in place to block her, but that was all she got—one good punch, and then he was able to block and slip to the left when she tried to come at him with another good jab.

He used her missed shot to take the opportunity to get low and tackle her to the ground again. He wanted to stop her, but not to hurt her, and every move he made had to be carefully calculated to do the least amount of damage. But there was a ferocity in her eyes he had never seen before, and it scared him—not because he was afraid of what she would do to him, but because he was afraid of what she might do if she escaped this place. And it was not going to be easy, keeping her here.

He had pushed her down and was on his feet, but she jumped right back up again, glancing at the door before plowing toward him from the side to get around him. He grabbed her, using her momentum to spin her around so that her back was to him, and he wrapped her arms in front of her and held them crossed in front of her in a restraint. She let out a furious scream, and now she turned into a feral child, kicking her legs in the air and wrestling against his grip like her life depended on it.

She brought one foot down hard, slamming it onto his, and he loosened his grasp enough that she was able to break free and dash toward the door. He caught her just before her hand reached the doorknob and yanked on her arm, pulling her out if its reach. Without turning to face him, she elbowed him in the nose with her free arm, and he cried out, "Shit!"

His left hand instinctively flew up to his injured nose and drew back with blood on it, but he still had a strong grasp on her arm with his right hand, and he somehow managed to hold onto her even with her pulling away with all her strength. "Just stop, Liv!" he said, trying to get his arms around her again, but the fire in her eyes told him she wasn't done yet. "Just stop and talk to me."

She gritted her teeth and tried to get a punch in, aimed at his gut, but with the grip he had on her, she couldn't get much power into it. "Dammit, Elliot, let me go!" she yelled.

"No way, Liv," he said, coming in close to her so he could bind her with his arms. But he came in too close too fast, and the move knocked her off-balance and she started to fall. He tried to catch her with his arms still encircling her, and they both fell to the ground, his body on top of her now. "You need to calm down," he said, looking her directly in the eyes.

But now he could see that he wasn't dealing with Rational Olivia. Instead, this was some crazed, vicious version of Oliva that was working only through the reptilian portion of her brain. And he must have awakened some terrified part of her, because he saw fear permeating through those eyes, like she saw him not as her ex-partner and friend but merely another brutal assailant trying to harm her.

His arms still had her entrapped, his chest pinning her body to the ground, and she wriggled and bucked, panting and grunting while her hair flew everywhere. "Leave me alone! Get OFF me," she half-pleaded, half-demanded.

He tried to maintain his calm while she writhed underneath him, saying, "Calm down, Liv, and I will. But I need you to—"

"Please. Let me go—I won't tell anyone, I promise." Her tone had changed to a pitiful whine, and he knew she wasn't really talking to him anymore, but the image of some malicious attacker who had replaced him.

"It's okay, Liv. I'm not going to hurt you. I'll let you up but I need you to calm down and talk to me."

She squeezed her lips together hard, and then said in a low, throaty voice, "You're trying to trick me. You're never going to let me go, are you?"

He didn't know what to say to get her to snap out of it, but he said, "Maybe that's the problem—I let you go for too long. I should have never left you, and I'm sorry for that, Liv."

Her eyebrows lowered in confusion, like she couldn't comprehend what he was saying to her. But she had stopped struggling now, and something changed in her eyes, but the anger was still there. "Why did you leave me, Elliot?" Her eyes started to tear up, and now big wet drops began to roll down her cheeks and onto the carpet. "You fucking bastard—how could you just leave and never even call?"

He loosened his grip now, not letting her go entirely, but taking his weight off her enough to relieve some of the pressure on her chest so that she could cry freely without suffocating. "I know," he said quietly. "I'm an asshole. Let it all out, Liv. You deserve that much, and so much more."

Her tears turned to sobs, and she had trouble getting the words out without slurring through panting lungs when she said, "Do you even know what I went through without you?" He wanted to look away, barely able to watch her tormented face, but he forced himself to lock eyes with her as self-imposed punishment. "Lewis had me for four days, he tortured me, beat me, burned me with hot keys, drugged me, made me watch while he raped and killed other people, and where were you?"

She let out three more robust sobs and said, "I went to trial having to face him—all without your support. And then, he came after me again, using a young girl as bait." He sat up now and removed his arms from her, shaking his head with guilt. He had known some of what happened to her, but he had never heard all the details. He listened now with horrified shame, watching her doleful eyes as she shouted at him. "He almost raped me, but instead he made me play Russian Roulette. I almost shot myself, Elliot—I almost died! And now I have the image of his head blown off burned into my brain, for all eternity. And this whole time, you couldn't even check in on me once?"

She couldn't speak anymore because the sobs grew so intense that her lungs were consumed with the task of trying to keep up. Her gasping cries stunned Elliot speechless, and for a few seconds, he sat there, still on top of her, wondering how he could have let her go through all that alone.

But soon, he came back to his senses and scurried off her, gently helping her sit up with trembling arms. He scooted in close to her on the carpet and whispered, "Come here," with open arms, giving her the choice to reject them.

He sighed with relief when she took him up on his offer, wrapping her arms around him and sinking into him so she could wet his shoulder with her tearful face. He hugged her and kissed her head, knowing it wasn't enough to make up for his absence during her worst crises ever, but trying to atone nonetheless.

"I can't tell you enough how sorry I am, Liv," he implored. "All I can do is try to make up for it now."

She shuddered against him, accepting his comfort for now, and that was enough for Elliot at this moment. She may change her mind later and throw him out for good, but at this point, all he could do was be as soothing and reassuring as a saint, and hope it was enough to lift her out of the pit of anguish she had fallen into.