A/N- I'm so excited for this chapter. This really is the chapter that starts to really depart from the source material and go my own route. Right in the middle there is a clear decision, and this is where i came up with the whole plot of this story. I can't wait to post the next one after this. just note that chapter 10 will get dark.
ra·tion·al
ADJECTIVE
based on or in accordance with reason or logic
synonyms: logical · sensible · reasonable · cogent · coherent · judicious
The car abruptly halted, her whole body jerking forward with her head smacking the back of the passenger seat. Olivia knew Lewis intentionally braked hard, the torment only beginning. The sun had come up about thirty minutes ago according to the radio clock she had been peeking at. She tried to keep track of how many turns and sneaking a look out the windshield for any signs or landmarks. During the first captivity she was either locked in the trunk or too plastered to think straight to make any sense of location. This was the first trip with him that she was coherent. This convenience was unsettling. There was no need to obscure her of the destination, meaning that once they got there, it would be the last and he probably would dispose of her. The thought brought on pure fear to her. She spent this time convincing herself that she could save Barba. There had to be some way.
He sang constantly to the radio. Always 1940's music. What was with that? The obsession with the female jazz and soul singers of the era. It had all started with Peggy Lee, then moved on to Doris Day and to Ella. When she first had been taken, she had only thought it was her imagination and maybe the alcohol playing a part in it, but there was purpose. He intentionally went out of his way to set the radio to the station, or even worse, he had physical copies of the recordings. Olivia felt herself having even more puzzling questions now that some things were unraveling.
The entire drive filled with him bombarding her with inappropriate questioning, comments and his time in prison. He recapped of him attacking the nurse in the hospital. She came in to get bloodwork and vitals. Little did she know that the policeman's neck had already been broken. Lewis laughed at how proud he was on the presentation of it. The poor woman had no idea she was walking into a trap. Olivia didn't want to hear how he pretended to be sleeping in the bed, having the restraints look as if the were tied. Almost as a lion stalking out a defenseless meal, he waited for the perfect moment. Lewis went into extreme detail of what it felt like, what she tasted like, repulsive things. The hospital worker had been knocked out cold before he sexually assaulted her. Lewis bragged about it. He thought it was funny saying she how "she would wake up well fucked". Lewis normally wasn't one to assault the women when they were unconscious, but how well did she know him. Was this something he did quick to do because he was in a rush. He practically blitz attacked her. He couldn't have had more than twenty minutes alone in that room so what he had to have done was kill the guard and rape the nurse in that time frame. Olivia hated having a close idea of what the nurse's reaction would be. With the amount of experience on the job, she had been in too many interviews, too many hospital rooms to know. She wished she could take that pain away.
"Sorry about those potholes. It's horrible, isn't it?" The car door opened surprising her. His sarcastic tone always stinging at her. He intentionally probably aimed at each hole in the ground. It wouldn't matter if he had gotten a flat tire, he would just kill some innocent person for another vehicle.
He grabbed her out of the car roughly, pulling her from her left shoulder which still ached from months ago. She slid against the nylon which rug burned her hip, having her sweater ride up. Olivia did make any sound though, afraid that the small part of exposed skin would excite Lewis. Once he got her standing, he led her by the cuffs. It was unclear where they exactly were. She could smell the harbor, but it was a rotten smell, algae mixed with something decaying.
"How the city just Lets everything go to ruin. What's the matter, Olivia? Don't feel like talking?" He interrupted. They were in an abandoned part of the city by the old pier. Shipyards and docks that don't fit standard regularly will be out of maintenance then left to disrepair. The city's budget won't cover, so then it becomes just a floating waste. No Olivia wasn't feeling in the chatty mood. Every word he spoke was like nails on a chalkboard, every breath he took was a waste of oxygen. Knowing she was having use herself to find Barba was something she had fully come to terms with but the full metal consequences of having him converse with her and pry was something that maybe she had tried to protect herself from. "Oh, lord. You're not having flashbacks now, are you? It's very common, you know PTSD. I mean, it's It's real. You're in your bed at night, wake up in a cold sweat, thinking I'm in the room with a gun to your head."
"Don't flatter yourself." She denied it. There was no way she would entertain him further. Having him know that he had haunted her would only make him right. Him going to jail would have been worth it if he knew that she couldn't go a day without thinking of that period of torture.
"Nothing to be ashamed of, Olivia. All my girls go through it. I am an agent of change, nailed to the trajectory of people's lives. They might have hopes and dreams before they meet me, but then Then they run into me, life as they knew it is gone. Well, you know, right? Could be getting out of a car, opening a door. You might just hear a sound, but still you think of me. You know. I'm just that good." The way he was proud of destroying people's lives made her stomach drop down. His narcissistic words, almost as if he was painting himself to be above man. He knew exactly what he did to people and what pain he left them in. Being full aware of the destruction and finding it amusing, purposefully striving for more trauma was revolting. She wasn't one of his girls, he didn't own her, he didn't own anyone.
"You know, whatever you think that you did to me, whatever effect you think you had on me, that's in your head." She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. He wasn't going to break her. She wasn't ready to lay in defeat just yet. Olivia would not feed that ego.
"So no dreams about me at all, huh?" Lewis tried prying more.
"No."
"Well, who else you got in your life? That cop boyfriend? " Had the encounter with Lewis sabotaged her relationship? It didn't make anything easier, that's for damn sure. Brian and she had their issues way before William Lewis ever had his reign. Had she become guarded and less trusting? Yes. Who wanted to spend their life with someone that was damaged? The holes were already there. Lewis had just imprinted the already inevitable. Brian didn't understand, but at the same time she didn't exactly leave that door open for him.
"You're the one who's obsessed, Lewis. You could've been in Canada by now, but instead you had to come back for me." She didn't want to him directing the conversation further.
"You find it hard to trust after what we went through? There's a tendency to isolate, to withdraw. You seeing a therapist? Please promise me you'll do that." Oh yes, her therapist had asked her to come in more often. That must be just the saddest thing. Was she that broken? Sometimes she thought that the therapist had made things worse. It made her remember things, things that her mind purposely kept buried. Dr. Lindstrom had said that she shouldn't keep blaming herself. Being told in theory vs doing it practically we very different. She thought sometimes that she may have antagonized him too much. If not for that maybe, he wouldn't have been in her apartment that night. If she hadn't made herself such a formidable opponent, he may have not taken Barba. He used him as collateral.
"He probably sits there with you and tells you that you're working through it, right? You can be whole again, Olivia. Well, he's lying. What I do, and I've seen this in the victim impact statements, nobody ever recovers from it." She wished that he wasn't right. She had seen the statements, the recordings. They were some of the most disturbing testimonies. It had only been months, but there was no certain of that. She left therapy so emotionally exhausted, so raw. She left wanting to sleep or break things. Progress was never linear, instead it tended to be a clusterfuck of jagged lines.
It wasn't fair. But there was nothing fair about any of it.
"Barba, Lewis. Where is he?" That was our deal." She put extra emphasis on the last sentence. Of course, she had no bargaining room. He was in control now.
"Olivia. Honey, don't you trust me?" He smiled. With her wrists restrained behind her with the cuffs it was easy to pull her along. Where he was taking her? Most likely the place they would find her body. More and more she had regretted not having a hidden weapon of any kind on her but if she did and he found it, it probably would be the thing he would use on her first. Neither pepper spray nor a taser would be a good choice of inspiring Lewis.
The devastation thickened in her gut. She looked around for all possible escape routes, some feasible way to make a getaway. They started to walk on the abandoned pier, majority of the buildings were old and condemned even passing by a rundown ferry boat. Olivia looked up towards the top of the dilapidated five story building that stood at the edge of the pier. The paint weathered off, shingles on the roof missing, windows shattered. She was so fixated on the structure in front of her that she nearly fell when he jerked her away to the nearing side of the dock.
"Wha-. Where are we going?" She began to struggle against him. What if he already killed him? She couldn't face the music of Rafael's death. Maybe Lewis was tricking her and he was going to push her off into the bay with her hands locked behind her.
"I don't want your friends to find us so quickly." Lewis chuckled steering her by the end of the mooring. The small sailboat stood tied down to the dock. The sails were secured to its mast. The Westsail was fairly large in size, its off-white frame rocked back and forth with the current. The name on the side of the boat in dark navy paint, she silently read to herself. "The Candor".
Panic arose. This was not what she was prepared for. Their chance of survival diminishing with every step. Her squad would have little to no chance to find her. They wouldn't be looking for a boat. Optimism that had lasted this long had crumbled in mere seconds of seeing that boat. She might as well pull a Merritt Rook and jump into the bay. Olivia tried to pull away, but Lewis forcefully yanked on her arm. Olivia hissed at the jerking movement. It was enough that her arms cuffed were in an uncomfortable position, but Lewis's force was capable of dislocating her shoulder if he wanted to. She knew that Barba was just a few feet away. She already didn't have a choice. Other than getting on that boat, there was no other plan.
"Watch your step." He addressed at the wide gap between her and the pier. Olivia balanced herself. It was especially difficult with her hands cuffed. If she fell through, the boat would crush against her and the pier.
"Hurry up." Lewis demanded.
Olivia did a skipping motion. She would rather overshoot it than undershoot it. She landed onto the boat fighting to keep her balance, teetering. The slight sway of the boat not helping. She heard him step onto the boat after and grabbing the link of the handcuffs, tugging at it causing her back to push against his chest. They moved across the deck to the aft of the boat to the doorway.
"Down we go." Leading her to the entrance stairwell, making her go first. She tried to get her footing on the steps, more like a ladder from how steep it was. He made her go face forward, with his hands on her shackles. Olivia went slow, one step at a time, trying steady herself, guessing at where the next footing was. Just as she was below ceiling level, she saw Barba. Olivia frozen in place.
"Too slow." Lewis letting go of the handcuffs, pushing her, sending her tumbling down the last few rungs. She slammed face first into the wooden floor. Her jaw burned, knowing that her chin had split open.
"Liv!" Was the last thing she heard before her world went dim.
A/N- Gosh I just want to give the biggest thanks for sticking with me this far. This is where I originally have gotten this idea. I always had pictured the boat idea, and really had to get the rest of the story put together to get us here. I feel like I am the worlds slowest writer sometimes. I am proud of what I am writing and how far I have come with not only my style but also how I am pushing my own boundaries. That also is a huge thanks to anyone who reads.
