A/N- Hope everyone is doing ok out there. Whether to are reading this from fan dot net or AO3 I hope you are enjoying. I sometimes must take breaks from stories, especially once they start getting darker. I don't know if anyone else experiences that too.


Re·gret

verb

a feeling of sadness, repentance, or disappointment over something that has happened or been done.

synonyms: apologize · bemoan · deplore · grieve · lament · repent


Clearly waiting in the commandeered car for Lewis to appear was giving her too much time to think. Her anxiety increasing. She shook her head trying to clear the thoughts and gather up the courage to get out of the car. Her shaky hand reached out for the handle, missing it the first time. The gravel crunched at her boots as she stepped out of the car. She scanned the area back and forth. Nothing. The meeting being at a construction supply yard. No one in site. It was late. Everyone had gone home by now. It brought a shiver up her spine. There would be no one to come to her rescue. No bystander to relay back to the squad.

Was this part of the game?

It was dark and she was in the middle of the lot. The only light coming from the headlights of the hijacked vehicle. There were too many angles from where he could come from, no way to predict the route he would take. She tried to skim the area over and over. The obscurity was making her eyes play tricks on her. Shadows would emerge in her peripheral vision. She felt her heart picking up a faster pace.

Breathe Liv, breathe.

She said to herself in order not to throw herself into a full-blown panic attack. That would just be fantastic. Finding her on the ground hyperventilating. Lewis would love that all too much.

"Lewis! I'm here!" She called out loud enough. She didn't want to wait anymore. The more she waited, the more she wanted to run for the hills. She didn't want to continue this Marco Pollo game with him.

When she turned around, she saw Lewis coming up over one of the piles of gravel with the gun already trained on her. It was showtime. There was no way that she could run now. Whatever was going to happen now was out of her hands. There was no going back at this point.

"Detective Benson or should I say Sergeant? I guess police brutality really does get rewarded. To think the NYPD condones violence against the innocent." Olivia didn't comment back at the dig that was clearly rehearsed. The gun pointed at her was enough to hold her tongue.

"Hands in the air. What'd you think, it was gonna be easy? After all our time together? I feel like you don't even know me at all." He said with as much of a taunting tone to it. Yes. She should have known.

"What do you want?" Olivia wanted to be as direct as possible. She didn't want to divulge in the past, to entice him further.

"Your gun. Otherwise you won't find him." Bringing the reason of why she was there in the first place.

She slowly took the holster off her hip, handing it over to him.

"Turn around." She did what he said. It would be stupid to try to get away and fight him. Even if she managed to get the gun off of him, he would never give the location of Rafael. The only way to see him again was to play along right now. "Ow. Take it easy." As he roughly groped her. His hands running down her body, making her want to scream right there. A mangled hitch of her voice only made it out. She was scared right now. Her felt the overwhelming weight of panic felt like it was multiplying inside her.

"Shh! I wasn't truly sure that you would show. Oh, I forgot. I have your boyfriend." He said smugly. Oliva wanted to smack that grin off his face. Seeing Lewis in the flesh had the same effect on her when he surprised her in her apartment. She froze.

He pulled the hair tie out of her hair forcibly. He inhaled for an extended amount of time. It repulsed her. "No drop gun, good girl." The last two words making her nauseous. She hated the disturbing pet names that he used. Dear, honey, baby, words of endearment. Lewis used them in his game. It was a constant in the time spent together, almost as if he couldn't help himself.

"Cell phone. This, you won't be needing." He snatched the cellphone out of her pocket and tossed it yards away. Damn. It was only a few months old. The old phone had been destroyed. The screen cracked, water/vodka damage to the battery during her captivity. Not that she wanted it back. TARU had found pictures, pictures Lewis took still on the sd card, ones that she'd never seen nor wanted to see. There was no exact memory of when they were taken but her memory hadn't been the clearest those few days.

Barba had respected her privacy to that and had them not revealed in court. It was a risky move, but it saved her the embarrassment and the unwarranted shame. That was the thing with Barba, beyond that sarcastic exterior was a man who would fight teeth and nail for the "victim". Olivia didn't know how she made it these past few months.

There were times when the tears began to stream down her face without warning. He didn't judge or show distain. He didn't hover. That's what she liked best. When she returned to work, she felt as if everyone had made themselves to available to provide aid. The constant questions of "are you ok?" and "how are you" became an everyday ordeal. She understood that it came from a good place, but it made things worse. It made her feel bad that she wasn't ok and that somehow that was a burden to everyone else, almost as if she was running against a clock. The "if you ever want to talk" response had her wanting to swing punches. "Like no thank. I'd rather keep the details of my assault and torture to myself. That's what the therapist is for."

"Where's Barba?" As the question left her lips, she felt the cool metal of handcuffs wrap around her wrist, then the other. She didn't know if they were her own or from the cop, he killed a day ago. Of course, he wasn't going to just let Rafael go. She wasn't stupid. He was going to kill her. Olivia just hoped that she could find a way to get him to safety. She wanted to believe that a negotiation could be made, but it was just a pipe dream. She couldn't abandon Rafael; she wouldn't be able to live with herself if she did. He shouldn't pay the price for her actions. She should have made sure that Lewis was dead. Follow through or don't do it at all. Lewis should have no resentment towards the Assistant District Attorney. He was just the prosecutor. The day they went to the prison, an attempt to sway Lewis into a plea deal was the ammunition. This was a game to him. Rafael was the ammunition to destroy her. His death would be unbearable to her.

"I'm half tempted to just do you now. What do you say? Should I take you over to that dirt pile, hmm?" The suggestion made her want to scream, but she willed herself to not freak out. If Lewis got a reaction from her then it would entice him further. She begged her body to just stay still, don't move, don't give him that reason. She could envision the assault so vividly that she could practically feel the gravel crunch against her, the smell of dirt and the grainy texture. Her jaw clenched to the point that it ached. Please no. She remained still, holding her breath. Even an involuntary movement would trigger him to do it. She prayed, begged soundlessly in her head.

"Let's go for a ride." Whispering in her ear than yanking her by her hair away from the car and against his chest. He took a moment to wrap his arms around roughly grabbing at curves. With the restraints on, there was nothing she could do to stop him.

When he was satisfied, he guided her to his car. The smell of alcohol wafted at her when the door to the backseat opened. The fabric of the seat was stained in blood. Was this Rafael's blood or did another poor soul get in the way? "In you go. That's it. Nice and easy."