A small ray of sunlight shone through the barred widow, hitting Ryan on the
face, and making soft shadows play there. She shielded her eyes and sat
painfully up. She still hurt all over. The morning before was still sharp in
her mind, and she could still smell him on her....feel his grip on her arms
tighten...feel him push himself inside of her....
He slightly opened the door and peeked in at her. She saw his face and
shrunk back down on the bed. "Relax, Ryan. I'm not gonna hurt you," he
laughed. "I just thought you might want a doughnut and some milk. I FINALLY
decided to go shopping," he handed her a small tray. She sniffed the food
suspiciously before biting into it. The rich chocolate filled her
mouth...mmm...her favorite. Then she snapped her eyes open. Wait..what was
she doing? ‘Concentrating on your stomach' she answered herself. Jerry
quietly left the room.
Swinging her long legs painfully over the side of the bed, she slipped her
feet down on the cold floor and walked over to the window. The familiar
scene of tall pines and high blade grass greeted her weary eyes. Turning
away in disgust, she sent a silent prayer up to God that he would help
her....that SOMEONE would help her....
§¤§¤§¤§
"So what do we have?" Ken asked. "Smith and Baxter working quadrant one,
Folk and Fairman in two, so...who do we have in three and four?" he was
pointing to a map of L.A. which had been divided into four sections. He
wanted to be sure that there was not one single spot that hadn't been
scoured.
"Sir, we have Moody and Akins in three, and Gift and Harrison in four," an
officer told him. Nodding curtly, Ken wrote it on the map. He was so scared,
but trying to keep his composure around his colleagues, but he could see
that they weren't buying into his act.
"We'll find her, sir," Akins said, placing a reassuring hand on Ken's back.
§¤§¤§¤§
Bell and Wick arrived to their house to hear loud blaring music playing
from the upstairs bedroom. They walked up the stairs, fearing what Melissa
would be doing up there. Opening the door, they saw Melissa bound and gagged
in a chair. She was tilting her head frantically towards the closet, but
neither paid any attention. Untying her, she jumped to her feet. She opened
her mouth to speak, and instead a scream came out.
Wick whirled around and felt a lamp break over his head and he slowly
followed the void as he slipped into darkness. Bell was at his side,
ignoring the fact that there was an intruder. The person took off his mask
to reveal..Jerry..he couldn't say he was surprised..but he WAS terrified.
Jerry grabbed Melissa around the neck and swung her into the closet,
barricading the door with a chair.
Not saying a word, Jerry reached in his pocket and pulled out a
chloroformed napkin. He charged at Bell, sending him sprawling, but not
before Bell gave him a good swift kick in the crotch. Jerry howled in pain
and quickly threw himself on top of Michael, stuffing the chloroform over
his mouth and nose. He watched as he went limp. Slinging Bell over his
shoulder, Jerry again exited out the back way. This was WAY too easy....
§¤§¤§¤§
Wick awoke with a pounding headache. He could hear Melissa pounding on the
closet door, but he couldn't remember why she was in there. Then it hit
him...literally. The closet door flew open and the chair toppled down on top
of him. He pushed it off and stood shakily, rubbing his sore head. Melissa
grabbed his arm.
"Wick! Wick, come on! We have to go find Michael! We...." she trailed off
as Wick just stared at her.
"Melissa. Melissa, listen. We can't do anything, now. It's too late. Let's
call Ken. We have to let him know that the missing level has been increased
by one."
§¤§¤§¤§
She heard the door scrape open, and stiffened. She kept her back turned,
continued looking out the window. She heard him shuffle in, grunting
followed by the springs on the bed creak, and a sigh of relief. She
hesitantly turned around and was shocked to see a body on her bed...
She studied the outline. She knew that form...Michael.... her breath caught
in her throat. She raced over to him despite Jerry's warning to step back.
Her trained fingers checked him over, got what she could of his vitals, and
decided he was alright, just out cold.
"He's fine....but he's not gonna be in a very good mood when he wakes up."
"Why are you doing this?" she asked, her courage growing. He just smiled
and touched the side of her face. Her skin was warm to the touch. He watched
her pull her head back and glare at him. Feisty little thing.
"You'll understand. Eventually.."
****
Captain Durfee sat on the stool in the kitchen, trying to absorb what Wick
was telling him. So far, all he could make out was ‘Bell' and ‘missing'.
"Are you saying that Jerry took Bell, too?" he said incredulously. Looking
over his shoulders, he saw at least a dozen worried faces straining to make
sense of what they had just been told.
"I'm afraid so, Cap. Ken has been notified, and they're adding one more man
to each team. They think that he's still in L.A., so that helps a lot," Wick
set his hand on the counter and felt the cool plastic underneath his hand.
He ran his palm over the dents that Bridges had made with the steak knife.
"But....you doubt Ryan's ex's abilities?" Durfee questioned, eyeing the
weary man in front of him. Wick's eyes were bloodshot, and was racing on
pure adrenaline.
"I..can't help it sir. I mean....those are my partners out there," he said,
lowering his voice. "I just wish there was something I could do..."
"I think you should lay-low. Stay at the station...he's obviously striking
when you're at home...so if you stay here—surrounded by people—you should be
fine."
Wick rubbed his eyes and shook his head. There was no way he could just
"lay-low". But the Captain wasn't in his position. Sighing, he exited the
kitchen and walked into the TV room. Catching a glance of himself in a small
mirror, he sighed. He looked horrible. He was dead tired, but he felt as if
he was connected to a live wire. All he knew, all he felt, was that he was
being torn apart from the inside out.
§¤§¤§¤§
Ryan stirred slightly, but then popped her eyes open when she heard
definite movement from the bed she had moved Bell to. She sat up, once again
feeling the pain in her stomach, and crouched next to his bed. His eyes
slowly opened.
He saw an angel...he knew he was dead. Jerry had killed him. All he could
see was a golden haze, and a beautiful face full of....concern? He rubbed
his eyes, ignoring the throbbing pain in his head. His eyes cleared and his
vision returned to normal. He gazed at Kathleen, confused.
"Where...am I...?" he asked. he didn't understand. She was missing. But how
could she be missing if she was right in front of him? Then he realized: he
was missing, too. He vaguely remembered the struggle between him and
Jerry...but that seemed so far away..so long ago..
"I don't know where we are," she said softly. "But we're here because of
Jerry," she stood, wincing in pain. As soon as he saw pain flash through her
eyes, he was instantly alert. He stood, pain and dizziness aside, and helped
her to her bed.
"What's wrong?" he asked, concerned.
"Jerry hit me a few times....that's all," she lied. She was still too
ashamed to tell anyone about what he had actually done to her. But she could
tell he wasn't buying it. She nervously smoothed out the sheets with her
hands.
"Where?"
"My...uh...stomach..." and her legs, and her arms, and the most personal
spots of her body...but she couldn't say all those.
"And?"
"Well...my arms....and legs..." she watched as his face clouded over with
anger.
"Let me see your stomach," he said, laying her down. She quickly sat back
up and shook her head.
"N-no...it's fine really."
"Kathleen, please....I won't hurt you," he said gently, laying her back on
the bed. He already knew what had happened. He could see it...in her
eyes..on her face...her torn clothes gave some indication, as well. He
wanted her to trust him...he wanted for her to just forget about Jerry and
the indecency of his actions, and just trust in her partner. He also wanted
to hurt Jerry. Very, very badly.
"O-okay," she reluctantly stammered. He slowly eased up her tank top until
it stopped below the bra. Lifting her hips slightly, he slid down the skirt
just an inch or so. He rubbed her stomach, watching for her to give some
inclination of pain. When his hands rubbed the middle of her stomach, she
squirmed a little, and pain crossed her face. He looked at her stomach, but
saw no bruise. Continuing on, he found nothing.
He looked at her arms and saw the bloody scratch marks on them. A further
examination found them to be quite deep. They were already beginning to get
infected. She had several purple bruises on her legs, but other than that,
well and a shattered self-confidence, she was fine. He hugged her gently and
sat down on the bed next to hers.
"At least I know you're okay," he told her, their eyes meeting. "I know
where you are," he smiled a little and she smiled back.
"Well, the good thing is that I'm not alone anymore," he laughed at her
feeble attempt at a joke.
§¤§¤§¤§
Ken slammed a manilla folder down on the desk, the bang echoing through the
interrogation room. "Guard!" he called. Jerry's old cell mate had done
nothing to help him or the investigation. The guard opened the door and
ushered the woman with the head-to-toe snake tatoo out of the room and back
to her cell.
He walked over to the filing cabinet and slammed the folder back in.
Lowering his head and crossing his arms over his chest, Ken paced the length
of the room. This investigation was not going as planned. It seemed like
everyone in the whole fucking jail had their lips sealed.
He pursed his lips and stormed out of the room. He checked his watch and
realized he was late for a meeting.
He only hoped the meeting would wrap up quickly so he could get back to
more important things.
§¤§¤§¤§
Carla, Bridges, Rodriguez and Wick were trying to watch soccer in the game
room, but none of them could concentrate. Carla stared at each of them in
turn and then finally jumped to her feet. "Look at us!" she exclaimed.
"We're just sitting here while our friends are out there somewhere needing
our help! We have to DO something!"
"What are we supposed to do, Carla? Huh? How can we do anything?!" Wick
yelled springing to his feet. "We don't where they are, or how much trouble
they're in. How can we do anything?"
"I have to agree with Aguliar," Bridges said from the couch. Rodriguez
looked at them all and shrugged.
"Yeah, me too, I guess," he said. "But Wick does have a point."
"I'm sure Durfee will give us some time, and then we can just GO. Start
looking," Carla reasoned.
"And where are we supposed to start. In case you haven't noticed, Carla,
this is a big ass city!" Wick yelled. Carla shot him a dirty look but stood
her ground.
"Well, we're not exactly going to check people's houses. We need to go in
the woods, and check out the cabins and the stuff like that," she said
reasonably.
"Wait! I know! Melissa!" Wick exclaimed.
