Heart of Darkness Ch. 17

Gatehouse

Jagger Cates drove the black sports car up the Quartermaine drive with his lips pressed into a tight line. He shouldn't be here. Not tonight. There was too much at stake tonight. He checked his watch impatiently. Sarah was with Kosokov. His mind deliberately skipped over what she was doing with the sick bastard. He should be there to help. They were partners after all and he was her back up.

He should be THERE. Instead he was HERE.

He'd left Morgan brooding at rendezvous point and slipped out to come here. He'd left his mission. Again. To check on her.

Stupid. Really really stupid.

He swore softly as he realized that he couldn't have done anything else. Something was wrong. He could feel it in his bones, this overwhelming instinctual need to touch her, to make sure she was okay.

One look. Hell, she didn't even have to know that he was there. One peek through the window. One quick check to see that she was okay. And then he would be gone. He'd do what he should have done the moment she opened her eyes and he looked into those incredible brown eyes of hers.

He'd leave her alone. He'd step back and let her find the happiness she deserved with Cassadine. No, not Cassadine. The jerk had hurt her too badly in the past. The not so charming prince didn't deserve her anymore than he deserved her. No, somewhere out there was a nice guy who would make Emily happy.

A guy who wasn't a professional killer. A guy who wouldn't drag her into his world of darkness and shadows. A guy who wouldn't end up destroying her spirit like he destroyed everything else.

He was just here to make sure she was safe. Then he would walk away.

He repeated the words like a mantra as he walked up to the gatehouse.

And stopped in horror at what he saw.

"Damn it." He rushed forward even as he started to pull the cell phone out of his jacket pocket.

He knelt next to the prone figure and searched desperately for a pulse but all he found was a sticky substance his numb mind identified as blood. Blood everywhere. Blood rapidly flowing from the still form.

His mind in remote control, he made the call to the paramedics with his usual efficiency before turning back to the body.

He should be searching the gatehouse. He should be looking for clues. But he didn't need to. He knew who had done this. He knew what he would find.

Or more importantly he knew who he wouldn't find.

A cold anger settled over him. He would get her back. He would get her back and they would pay in ways they couldn't even begin to imagine.

The Consortium hadn't taught him how to kill a man, but it had taught him how to make a man wish you would kill him.

"Em..."

The weak and thready voice broke through Jagger's anger and he focused his attention on

Cassadine, not liking the dullness in his eyes or the trickle of blood coming from his mouth. He'd seen too many people die not to know what death looked like even when he saw it on the face of a Cassadine.

"Shhh." He whispered softly. "Help is on its way."

Nikolas coughed, not because his throat was sore but because blood was beginning to fill his lungs. "Emm..."

"She'll be okay." He refused to believe anything else.

"Took her. Tried to stop them."

Jagger nodded, his eyes reflecting the fury he felt. "I know. Don't worry. I won't let anything happen to her."

The sound of sirens could be heard approaching.

Nikolas's eyes cleared for a moment as he stared at Jagger. "You love her."

It wasn't a question and Jagger said nothing because there was nothing he could say.

"Tell her I love her." Nikolas's voice was painfully thin as he struggled for the strength to speak. "Tell her I'm sorry....."

Jagger shook his head. "Tell her yourself Cassadine..." he began and stopped when he realized that Nikolas was no longer listening, could no longer hear. God this was going to hurt her. Damn the bastard. Damn him to hell.

Leaning back on his knees, Jagger fought back the impulse to cry as his mind already began to

focus on what needed to be done next.

Sarah lay silent, a single tear escaping the corner of her eye as she heard the harsh snoring sounds of the man beside her.

She was going to be sick.

In one fluid movement, Sarah leaped from the bed to the bathroom, quickly emptying the

contents of her stomach into the toilet.

She flushed the toilet shakily even as she looked at her reflection in the mirror.

It looked dirty. No surprise she supposed considering how dirty she felt inside.

Come on Webber get it together, she silently admonished herself even as she walked back into the bedroom, steadfastly avoiding looking at the sleeping figure. You can do this. You have to do this.

She moved quietly, keenly aware of the heavily armed guard outside the door. It had been 45 minutes since she and Kosokov had entered the hotel suite. The sleeping pill she had managed to slip Kosokov earlier had taken longer than she had expected to take effect and the bastard had only been out for five minutes or.

She could still feel him on her. In her. Every touch killing a part of what little soul she had managed to hold onto over the last few years.

God it had been harder than she had ever imagined it would be.

All that had kept her sane had been imagining this moment.

Kosokov lying defenseless in front of her.

Hers to kill. Just like he had killed her parents. Hers to destroy. Just like he had tried to destroy

her.

It took her about two minutes to slip back into the dress she had worn to dinner earlier in the evening.

How much time would she have? The guards wouldn't expect her to stay the night. They would expect Kosokov to fuck her and then send her on his way. Jagger was supposed to take care of the guards for her, but she couldn't count on that. Couldn't count on anything at this point except for the fact that the moment she had fantasized about was here and she wasn't going to let it slip away.

No matter what it had cost her or what it would cost her.

Carefully she removed the small vial of poison from her purse. What had they said when they had given her the stuff? Undetectable. Untraceable. It would look like a heart attack. No scandal. No fallen martyr for some sick twisted bastard in the future to wrap his army around. The cause of death would be listed as natural causes. All she had to do was make a small injection at his neck with the micro thin hypodermic.

One small injection and then it would be over. All of it. The years of pain. The nights of feeling nothing but a cold hatred so hot that it burned away anything that remained of the Sarah she used to be. One small injection and the bogey man would be dead. Her monster slain.

One small injection and the game would be over.

Over.

She looked down at the needle in her hand even as she moved it closer to the thick folds of skin at his neck.

She was shaking.

She'd killed men before. Too many to count. Too many to care about. Some in the heat of battle. Some in cold blood with a ruthlessness that would have shocked the girl she used to be.

She wasn't killing Kosokov in cold blood. She breathed deep and released it, trying to maintain her control. Stay here Sarah she whispered to herself fiercely. Stay in this moment. Don't lose it now. Not now. When this is over you can fall apart. Just hold it together a little while longer.

God her blood was so far from cold at this moment. It was a white hot hatred that coursed through her and threatened to consume her. This man had raped her. His body had torn her apart, body and soul. Then he had watched as his men followed suit. One after the other until she had stopped trying to keep count. But it wasn't just for the rape that she hated him. She had reasons almost too numerous to count. He had held her prisoner in a cage like some kind of animal. No food. No water. No sanitation. No sanity. She remembered watching her mother day after day. The hunger. The sickness. The madness. The helplessness. She remembered her father fall in a storm of bullets that riveted his body.

She remembered all of this every minute of every day. It was always there. Always. No matter how hard she tried to escape.

All of this went through her mind as she held the needle mere centimeters away from his flesh. She wondered idly what her grandfather would say if he could see her. Would he understand the need for vengeance that consumed her? Probably not. Steve Hardy would have given her some sermon about the need for forgiving your enemies. Turn the other cheek.

A muscle clenched in Sarah's jaw. Steve Hardy had been a good man. One of the best she had ever known. But he was gone. Gone like everything else she had once held dear. All that was left was the pain and the need for vengeance driving her like the need to breath drove others.

This was what she wanted. Whatever it cost. She would kill this man. And she wouldn't feel one bit of guilt for the act.

And if that made her a terrible person...Sarah shrugged. The world she moved in was not the one her grandfather had lived in. There were no good people. Just evil and less evil.

This man was evil. Her hand moved the syringe closer, the needle had just pricked the surface when a hand grabbed her wrist and pulled it back.

Startled, Sarah looked up and her eyes locked with Jason Morgan's ice cold blue ones.

"Morgan," The words were let loose in a low hiss as Sarah looked around, expecting to see Kosokov's guards but failing to find anyone in the room except herself, Jason, and the still sleeping Kosokov. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Jason ignored the fierce stab of pain that swept through him as he realized that she had gone through with it. She had allowed the bastard to fuck her.

"I'm here to stop you."

"No!" Sarah shook her head. "Damn it Morgan this has to happen. I'm never going to get another chance to kill the bastard."

"You can't." Jason held her arm in a tight grip with one hand and with the other drew out his revolver. "I can't let you kill him."

"Why the hell do you care?"

"About him, I don't. About my sister..." Jason's voice held a tremble of emotion that caught Sarah's attention. "I care a lot."

"Emily?" Sarah's voice faltered as she lowered her eyes under the intensity of Jason's gaze.

"The bastard had his men grab her. They shot Cassadine and took Em." His eyes drilled into her. "The only way we are going to get her back is if he lives so he can lead us to her." A pause. "You kill him and we'll never get Emily back." He relaxed his hold on her wrist.

Sarah closed her eyes in anguish. For this moment, she'd endured the unendurable. She'd let the man who had violated her before violate her again. She had forced herself to stay still while he penetrated her telling herself that soon it would be over. Soon he would be dead. Now she had to live with the fact that all of it had been for naught. Her revenge was lost.

She could kill him anyway. To hell with Emily. To hell with Jason. One movement, one quick movement, and Kosokov would be dead. But so might Emily. Emily whose only mistake had been to pay her sister-in-law a visit at the wrong time.

The temptation was so damned strong she could almost taste it. She opened her eyes and looked at Jason. Something tangible and indefinable passed between them and she nodded, replacing the syringe in her purse she pulled out a small dot of cold metal and attached it to Kosokov's military jacket.

"What is it?" Jason asked.

"Tracking device. With that on him, Jagger should be able to locate Kosokov anywhere using the Consortium's satellite. We could wire him for sound and picture, but there isn't time. The guards are going to be in here any minute and you need to be gone." She stopped. "How the hell did you get in here anyway?"

On anyone else the expression on Jason's Morgan's face would have been called a grin. He motioned to the connecting door to the suite next door. "There are a few advantages to having once been a Quartermaine." He turned to go. "I'll meet you back at the penthouse as soon as...."

"As soon as I can." Sarah finished for him. "Get out of here."

"Are you going to be okay?" His eyes darted to Kosokov.

Sarah nodded. "He drank so much vodka tonight that his guards will think he passed out. My guess is that I'll get a taxi and a curt dismissal." She hesitated and her voice when it spoke was soft and broken. "It's how Kosokov treats all his whores."

Jason started to say something, anything, but couldn't find the words so he turned and left.

Alone with Kosokov's still snoring form, Sarah fought back the urge to cry as she forced herself to undress and slip back into bed with a monster.

Twenty minutes later, Sarah walked into the penthouse with only the barest of nods for Jason's guard who stood silently at the door.

She didn't see guard. All she saw was HIM. All she felt was HIS touch. God she could even

swear that she could smell HIM.

Jason looked up when she came in.

"Are you okay?"

She brushed the question aside. What was the point in answering it? She wasn't okay. She didn't know HOW to be okay.

"Where's Jagger?" Her voice was eerily flat. Almost dead.

"He's out getting some equipment that we'll need." Jason's expression was bleak. "He seems to think Kosokov will take Emily out of the country."

She could feel his fear. She should comfort him. But she didn't have anything left in her to comfort him with. "Probably. His men will move Emily and he'll catch up with them."

"What about the deal? I thought you said he needed arms."

"He does. Which makes me think he must have another supplier. Another partner."

"Than why go through all this?"

Sarah shrugged. She didn't want to think. Was trying hard to do anything but think. "To play the game. To let you think he was going to make a deal...I don't know. There has to be some reason. Something he wanted out of this deal that he already got."

"Emily?"

"No. He hadn't met Emily before he came to Port Charles."

"No, but he would have known of her. She isn't exactly unknown and neither is her connection to me."

Sarah nodded. There was something there. Something that she knew but was forgetting about. Something that was eluding her. She shook her head. "When did Jagger say he would be back?"

"Soon. He said he also had some errands to run."

"Fine. I'm going to take a shower." Without bothering to wait for him to reply, Sarah headed upstairs.

Jason watched her go. Damn it. Damn everything. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Emily should have been home sleeping in bed. Kosokov should be dead. Michael should have been returned to him. Situation over.

Now it was a mess. He hadn't missed the barely controlled anger in Jagger's voice when he had called with the news and God only knew what kind of "errands" the assassin had to run. Emily was missing and he didn't even want to begin to think about what might be happening to her. And Sarah... Jason stared at the stairs she had disappeared up. He had barely recognized the quiet and subdued and...defeated young woman who had just walked in.

She'd slept with Kosokov. She'd had to endure that and then had been forced to walk away from her chance at vengeance. What could she be thinking?

A sudden crash from upstairs sent him racing up the stairs and his hear hammering, he walked into the bathroom. His breathing almost stopped when he saw Sarah curled up into a ball on the floor of the shower stall, seemingly unaware of the broken glass all around her from the shattered shower door or the pulsating water and the trail of blood going down the drain.

With a strength born from gentleness, he walked into the shower and picked her up, cradling her gently in his arms, grabbing a towel and using it to bandage her hand as they emerged from the bathroom. He could feel her shivering as he gently deposited her on his bed and tried to disengage himself from her hold.

"Don't." She whispered as she clutched him tighter.

"Your hand needs a bandage...." he began but then he shook his head instead as she whimpered softly in her distress. Damning Kosokov to the hell he belonged in, Jason gently looked at her hand as she buried her head in his chest, neither of them paying much attention to the fact that she was naked in his embrace. Jason felt a surge of relief when he realized that even though had punched her hand through the shower door, the cuts on her hand were surprisingly superficial and he used the towel as a makeshift bandage before pulling a blanket from the bed around them both.

His hand caressed her back gently.

"Shhhh..." His voice was as soft as his touch and almost as necessary to Sarah's rapidly fleeing sanity.

"I'm sorry," she hiccupped, not looking up at him. "One minute I was taking a shower and the next I......"

"It's okay." He kept his voice light deliberately. "I was going to remodel anyway."

Sarah didn't react to his teasing, her eyes when she finally looked up were riddled with shadows and pain.

"I let him touch me...I let him....Oh God I let him..." Her voice trailed off and the tears returned and Jason found himself hating not only Kosokov, but the Consortium as well. What kind of organization would force a young girl to relive a nightmare?

"Shhh. Sarah it's okay. It's okay. He's not here. He's not going to touch you again. I swear it."

"He doesn't have to touch me again. I'll never not feel him on me. I can't forget." She closed her eyes and her voice was tired beyond description. "I want to die."

"No!" Jason is suddenly assailed with memories of hospital rooms and Emily lying connected to tubes, large white bandages around her wrists. "You're stronger than this Sarah. You're going to make it." Even as he said the words he saw her pulling away from him, moving closer to the darkness that was inside her. "I'm not letting you give up."

Without warning, Jason leaned forward and kissed her, ruthless pulling her back from the void she veered on the edge of and into this moment with him. The desire between them spiraled upward again and the kiss took on a life of his own and Jason became intensely aware of her nakedness and of the quiet solitude of the bedroom and the need to pull her down on the bed and...

He broke off the kiss suddenly. "I'm sorry." He heard his ragged breathing and tried to control it. "The last thing you need is for me...."

Her voice cut off whatever else he was going to say. "Make love to me Jason."

He stared at her speechless and began to shake his head no, to tell her that now wasn't the time,

this wasn't the place.

"Please." She begged and he found himself enraptured by the shining brilliance of her eyes even as he tried to decipher what was brilliance and what was unshed tears. She swallowed. "I know its asking a lot. I know we don't even like each other. But I know there's some kind of crazy attraction there and I know ..." She looked down, feeling suddenly shy. "I need to a touch that is gentle and not rough. I need something to push away all the other thoughts in my head." She looked up at him at the last. "I let Kosokov fuck me. I let him use me. I know what its like to be a whore. HIS whore. Please help me to remember that it doesn't always have to be like that. I need to know that I can feel pleasure That I can just feel again. Please."

He was going to tell he no. He was going to tell her any number of reasons why this was not a good idea.

All she had to do was say please and suddenly no didn't even seem to be part of his vocabulary.

He didn't answer her with words. He didn't have to. The feel of his lips against hers and the warmth of his body as he covered her was answer enough.

Emily woke to darkness and to the awareness that her hands were handcuffed and her feet tied together. The room was dark but not silent and Emily could hear noises from outside, the movement of people and the movement of vehicles.

She realized then that the room wasn't completely dark, a small window in one wall although

heavily barred let the weak moonlight in, but it wasn't enough to even begin to illuminate her surroundings.

It took her a minute to figure out what had happened to her and who was probably responsible.

It took her another thirty seconds to remember what had happened to Nikolas.

And to imagine what was probably going to happen to her.

She began to cry softly until shuffling noise from the other side of the room brought her head up with a snap.

As the realization hit her that she wasn't alone.

To be continued: