A/N: Trigger warning: homophobic slurs, physical violence

A/N2: I know it's ~technically~ duct tape. However, most people call it duck tape so I went with it.

A/N3: Miranda rights are a bit confusing. You have the right to remain silent, you have the right to an attorney. So, police aren't allowed to ask you questions BUT if you're dumb enough to talk … they can listen and use your words/actions against you.

Or, so it seems. Do you know how hard it is to get specific answers to specific questions from google?

Once again, I feel the need to say that this is a work of fiction. My story, my rules. However, constructive criticism is always welcome.

FYI: There are PRN anti-anxiety meds; Xanax is one.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Chapter 74

xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Santana's POV

"San?"

Santana swallowed hard and walked to the back of the store, grabbing a bottle of water. After she paid for it, she reached into her backpack and grabbed one of her anti-anxiety pills. She took the pill and washed it down with half the bottle of water.

"Santana, you're scaring me. Did you recognize him?" Quinn's voice was full of concern.

The water had helped; it would take a few minutes for the med to kick in but Santana no longer felt like she was going to pass out. "It's Jacob."

Quinn gaped at her. "Are you kidding right now?" Her voice was an octave higher than normal.

Santana shook her head. "No. I'm serious. And it makes perfect sense. They're the ones that started the whole mess, it makes perfect sense that Carmela would contact them. The only one missing is Emily."

"Emily's at Ohio State," Quinn said, lost in thought. "Jacob and Kayla, though … they're still stuck in Lima."

"How do you know that?" Santana wondered out loud.

Quinn shrugged. "Saw Kayla working at 'Sheets 'n' Things' when I was home over Christmas. Everyone knows Jacob's not doing anything since he somehow screwed up his knee," she winked at Santana, "and couldn't get an athletic scholarship; his grades weren't good enough to get in anywhere. He's taking some classes at the community college in Findlay, trying to get his grades up. I overheard Emily at graduation talking about her plans."

"Well." Santana thought about that. "Okay, then. So … best guess? Carmela offered them money – that she doesn't have – to come bring me back to Lima. Kayla might not have jumped at it … but Jacob? Money plus a chance to fuck me over? Yeah. He'd have grabbed onto that and dragged Kayla in whether she wanted to or not."

"Okay. So what do you want to do?"

"Punch Kayla in the face and fuck up Jacob's other knee." Santana shrugged. "The what isn't the question. The how is."

Quinn forehead crinkled in thought for a moment. "Well, it depends on if he follows us in or not, I guess. You go in and punch Kayla; I'll wait at the bottom behind the door, if Jacob comes in I'll kick his … right? knee." Santana nodded. "We have to assume that he'll come in behind us because Kayla's been texting him so he has to know someone's inside. He'll see the two of us going in and know she won't be able to handle three people.

"So that's what we'll do; you go upstairs and punch Kayla, I'll wait at the bottom and, when Jacob comes in, I'll kick his knee." She shrugged. "I mean, Sue trained us and this campus was made for building leg muscles so I'm still in top cheer form." She grinned broadly.

Santana laughed. "Yeah. I didn't realize how hilly this campus was when I applied. Okay, let me call Britt real quick and let her know what's up."

Santana pulled her phone out and dialed Britt.

"Baby? Where are you? Are you okay?" Brittany sounded frantic.

"I'm fine, honey. We're down the street." Santana sighed, not wanting to tell Brittany about Jacob. "Kayla's definitely got a partner. I need you to call the police and be ready with duck tape when Quinn and I get there."

"Who's her partner?" Brittany waited a beat, then prodded when Santana hesitated. "San? Who's Kayla working with?"

"Jacob is in a car about half a block away from the apartment." She heard Brittany growl on the other end. "Baby, Quinn and I have a plan. Please, just call the police and come out with the duck tape when we get there, okay? Trust me."

"Fine." Brittany huffed. "I don't like this, San."

"It's gonna be okay, babe. The three of us have this covered. Well, the three of us and the cops."

"Okay. I'm calling now. BE CAREFUL."

"I will. I love you."

"Love you, too." Brittany hung up and Santana turned to Quinn with a sigh.

"She's not happy."

"Honestly? Neither am I. I really wish Daniel was available but," she checked the time, "he's still got half-an-hour to go in his exam."

"We'll be okay." Santana said, feeling a lot more confident. "I'm finally happy and free. I'm not letting a skank ho and an unwashed jackass steal that away from me."

Quinn grinned at her best friend. "Let's go."

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

It was hard to not turn around when they walked past Jacob, but Santana schooled her features and turned toward Quinn as they moved past the car. The two of them were talking animatedly about … nothing, really. Santana listened closely for the sound of a car door but didn't hear one.

They reached the apartment and Santana stalked up the stairs while Quinn set up at the bottom.

"Santana! It's so good to see …" Kayla was cut off when Santana's fist slammed into her smug face then tackled her to the ground. As she hit the ground, something slipped out of Kayla's hand and rolled away.

Santana was straddling Kayla. "I told you the next time it wouldn't be a slushy," she rasped harshly as she punched the girl twice more before Brittany pulled her off.

"She's down, baby."

Santana was breathing heavily; she was still furious but she stopped struggling against her girlfriend.

Kayla had dropped her suitcase with Santana's first hit and it burst open when it hit the ground; duck tape, rope, a pillowcase, several pairs of plasti-cuffs, and a small black case (that looked like an old fashioned cigarette case) spilled down the stairs. The object that she'd been holding in other hand appeared to be a syringe. Santana looked back at Kayla and lunged for her, stopped only by Brittany's strong arms around her waist. She growled at Kayla.

"Fucking moron. What, exactly, did you think was going to happen here?"

Before Kayla could answer, there was a yell from below. Santana turned back and saw Jacob writhing on the ground. She shrugged Brittany off and stalked back down the stairs.

"Stupid fucker. Just couldn't leave well enough alone, could you? Once an idiot, always an idiot." She kicked him hard in the side before stepping away from him.

He didn't seem to know what to hold; his knee, his face, or his side; it seemed he had hit his face against the stairs after Quinn kicked his knee. Quinn had done a helluva job taking him down. He rolled over and glared at her.

"You stupid bitch!" He roared and tried to get up, only to be stopped by someone stepping on his chest.

Quinn and Brittany had, apparently, exchanged positions; Quinn was now at the top of the stairs duck taping Kayla's wrists while Brittany had come down to keep Santana from killing Jacob.

"Wanted to make sure you were okay," Brittany smiled slightly.

"Who the fuck are you?" Jacob spat, still unable to move thanks to Brittany's foot braced against his sternum.

"That falls under the category of none of your business." Brittany responded coolly. Santana could tell her girlfriend was struggling to remain calm and ran a hand up and down her back.

Santana laughed. "So. Fucking. Stupid."

"What's so funny? You fucking bitch! You ruined my life!"

Santana sighed. "Once again, you fail to take responsibility for what you did. YOU ruined your life. Not me. Had you left me alone, you'd be playing football at some big university, harassing some college freshman right now. All you had to do … was leave me alone. And you still haven't learned from your mistake. You fucked with me, I fucked up your knee. You made the choice to fuck with me again." Santana shrugged. "You reap what you sow, dumbass." She shook her head. "As to why I'm laughing? Whatever Carmela promised you was never going to happen; she's broke. Fucking idiot. "

Two uniformed officers appeared in the doorway. Officer Barron and a female officer; the woman was incredibly fit, probably in her early twenties, with auburn hair fastened in a tight bun.

"Ladies," Officer Barron started, "this is Officer Dwyer. We got a call about a disturbance?" He quirked a brow.

"Drew the short straw again, Officer Barron?" Santana smiled at the familiar face.

"I told dispatch that if a call came in from here to call me," he shrugged, "I know a lot of the background, no reason for you to have to explain it all again. So," he nodded at Jacob and glanced up the stairs, "what's going on ?"

Now that the officers had arrived, Brittany removed her foot from Jacob's chest and wrapped her arms around Santana's waist, pulling her close.

Santana nodded. "This guy and his girlfriend came here to kidnap me." She sighed. "His girlfriend is upstairs." She leaned back into Brittany's embrace, drawing strength from the beautiful blonde. She was so fucking tired of all this bullshit.

"I knew it! I knew you were a dyke! She's lying! I just walked in and she attacked me!"

Santana rolled her eyes. "While technically true, there are text messages between him and his girlfriend bearing out my statement. I just didn't give them a chance to inject me with the ketamine they're carrying." Jacob's eyes widened and Santana knew her gamble had just paid off; Jacob had a syringe full of ketamine on him somewhere. Santana shook her head. "There's a syringe on the landing, as well. There's also what I guess would be considered a 'kidnap kit' that spilled down the stairs."

Officer Barron had been watching Jacob carefully and had seen what Santana had. He quickly frisked Jacob and came up with two syringes. "If we test these, what are we going to find?"

"I want a lawyer."

Officer Barron nodded and grabbed Jacob by the shoulders, turning him around, pinning his arms behind his back, and cuffing him while reading him his Miranda Rights. He sat Jacob up, called in for an ambulance, then went upstairs to get Kayla.

Brittany kissed the top of her head. "It's over, baby. This is the last of the crazy, right?"

"Fuckin' carpet munchers fuckin' up my life," Jacob mumbled.

Officer Dwyer tensed. "You are aware that your comment suggests that this is a hate crime which is federal offense that carries up to ten years in federal prison? That my partner read you your rights and you indicated you understood those rights – that anything you say can, and will, be used against you in a court of law – which means, since you spoke freely and no questions were asked, everything you've said since he read them is admissible in court and that there are three witnesses to those comments."

Jacob paled at those words. "I … I didn't know she was a dyke when we planned to snatch her! I suspected it but I didn't know so it can't be a hate crime. Her grandmother just told us to grab her and bring her home … I … I …" he stuttered and then stopped, realizing he'd just dug himself into a deeper hole.

Officer Dwyer turned to Brittany and Santana with a grin as she adjusted her body camera.. "That almost sounded like a confession."

Brittany and Santana chuckled; relieved that this all finally seemed to be over.