Sara's Secrets
- Thread starter MegBreanne
- Start date
plzz cna u e mail me wen u hav the rest of the storiee plzz thanks so much me e mail is aysha_manneh@hotmail.com XxXtaaa
MegBreanne
Police Officer
Chapter 16:
"Remember what I said," he sneered in her ear as they entered the gas station.
"I won't do anything stupid," she gasped with disgust when he moved the collar of her jacket and placed a wet kiss on her neck from behind.
"Just putting on a little show for the chick behind the counter," he responded. "Follow my lead."
She nodded her head slightly in agreement as he yanked open the heavy glass door.
"Hello darlin'," he faked a Texan accent like Nick's poorly.
The young girl smiled slightly in greeting. "Hello."
"Ah," he poked her in the side, startling her. It was his silent way of telling her to speak. She cleared her throat, trying to calm her nerves. "Where is the rest room?"
"We've only got the one," she nodded her head towards the back of the station. "It's in the corner."
"Thanks," he drawled again. "C'mon, Honey." He pushed Sara towards the back of the establishment.
"It'll look suspicious if you come in with me," she said.
"What're you planning?!" he spoke through gritted teeth, slowly continuing to push her down the aisle..
Sara realized that he was more than unstable. He was crazy. "Nothing," she stayed calm. "But it will look suspicious. I just want to keep the girl safe. We'll be outta here before you know it, OK?" She glanced up at the security camera, her eyes remaining fixed there as she continued to allow him to push her. "You can even check the room first before leaving me alone. You can check it after too, OK?"
He stopped dead, haulting her to a stop as well. He stepped beside her and turned her toward him, unsure of whether or not to trust her. He'd been watching her and was sure that if she wanted, she could fool him.
Sara took the opportunity to lean up and kiss him on the cheek, lingering for a moment longer than needed. She kept her lips close to his ear. Closing her eyes tight as if to transport her back to her bedroom where she could wake up from the horrible nightmare, she spoke "that's to make it look convincing OK? The girl will never suspect a thing."
He closed his eyes and made the decision. "Fine. But I'm checking the restroom before and after you go in."
She nodded her head in understanding, a tight smile pulling on her lips. "OK."
He grabbed her hand and made her follow him the rest of the way to the bathroom. She looked up at the monitor, praying that somehow, someway, someone would find her before it was too late.
"I'm waiting right here," he said after checking the washroom for any object that could aid her in getting away, or alerting someone that she had been taken against her will.
She nodded again. "I understand." She hated pacifying him. She stepped into the bathroom and immediately felt sick as she rushed towards the toilet, the heavy door closing and automatically locking behind her.
After heaving into the bowl, she stayed on her knees, trying to catch her breath and starting to regain her composure. A harsh knock on the door brought her back to reality.
She faked like she was throwing up again, making some gagging noises into the bowl, satisfied when it echoed around her in the small space.
The employee glanced towards him. "Is she OK? She sounds really sick."
He nodded his head, and turned back to the door, rolling his eyes. "Take your time, Sweetie," he called trying to sound loving. He looked back at the girl. "Morning Sickness. It's been a bitch. She's saying that who ever coined the term needs to be shot because it's all day, every day."
"Oh," she turned and walked away.
Sara continued to groan in the restroom like she were still throwing up as she glanced around looking for something. Anything. She felt her eyes watering. There was nothing that she could see. If there had been anything, he'd taken it. She dropped back down to her knees and proceeded to empty her stomach once again. This time, it was not the flu bug that made her sick -- it was the situation she was in.
She glanced down at her jacket and she prayed that she was right. She opened it up, revealing an inside pocket near the breast of the coat. She reached inside and was delighted to find her CSI business card, complete with her name and contact information as well as the labs information. In that moment, she saw the corner of the bathroom mirror was chipped.
"A little extra insurance," she whispered to herself as she placed the pad of her thumb on the edge of the shard. She flinched when she quickly moved her hand, dragging it across the jagged edge. She examined her finger and found that it was only a superficial cut, but it was enough to coat her other thumb in a thin layer of blood. She pressed the it against the CSI card, then proceeded to do the same on the back of the card. She placed the card back into the interior breast pocket of her jacket before flushing the toilet. She quickly washed her hands, wiped the blood away from the mirror, and then opened the door. He entered the small room and glanced around, satisfied that everything was in order and that she hadn't tried to leave a message for the next bathroom user to find.
They quickly grabbed a few bottles of water and a Ginger Ale to settle Sara's stomach.
"A little food for the road," he said, feeling his stomach grumble. Again, he dragged her with him to the junk food aisle which was in direct view of the register where the girl was now curiously watching the two. Something just didn't feel . . . right.
As he leaned over to grab a few bags of chips and other candies, she quickly, but subtly opened her jacket pulling out her bloodied business card. She brought her hand up to her lips and indicated for the girl to be quiet. She reached over to the other side of the aisle and carefully placed the card underneath a candy box, all the while keeping eye contact with the girl.
"Alright," he decided, standing up, "I think that's everything." He never released his grip on her as he quickly made his way to the check out, his arms loaded down with snacks. She unloaded the bottled beverages that lined her chest, pinned there by her arm, on the counter.
The girl proceeded to scan the items while making small chit chat. "So, where are you coming from?"
"The Little White Chapel," he smiled. "We just got hitched." He nudged Sara who was still looking pale. He cocked his head to the side, "baby still giving you grief?"
She nodded a slight nod. "Uh, yeah, I think so."
"I didn't think you two were married," the girl stated innocently. "I didn't see any rings on your fingers."
He looked like he was caught and Sara could feel him reaching for his knife. "Oh, no, we can't afford rings right now. We've had a bit of bad luck, and the casinos have our life savings. All we have now is our love, our baby," she placed a hand on her flat, toned abdomin, "and each other."
He looked over at her, shocked that she came up with that so fast. He chuckled nervously. "Yeah, all that and our beat up truck."
The girl glanced outside at the truck parked near the front door.
"Good trucks, those Chevy's," she said. "My brother drove one for ten years. Never checked or changed the oil, and it never gave him any problems. My boyfriend wants to buy one too."
"Well," he smirked, "Chevy's got my vote."
Sara just forced a smile and nodded her head.
The girl gave him the total, he paid, and she handed over the bag of goodies and bid them goodbye, all the while watching them leave. She noted when Sara glanced back at her and then threw a glance to the candy aisle.
The phone rang and she picked it up quickly. "Gas N' Go," she spoke. "Oh, hi mom . . . . .Yeah, it's pretty quiet tonight. But then again, when isn't it? . . . . Tina should be coming by to pick me up in about an hour . . . no, no, I have my key, so you don't have to leave the house unlocked . . . " she noted the truck pulling out and back onto the road. "I'll talk to you tomorrow. Love you . . . Bye."
"And that was Norah Jones with her hit from a few years ago 'Turn Me On'," the radio announcers voice filtered through the air. "Now, we have some breaking news straight from the LVPD," he rattled off. "There was an abduction just a few hours ago at an apartment complex in Sin City. The suspect is driving a late 80's model Chevy truck, blue-grey in color. He is approximately 6 foot 2 inches, with sandy blond hair," he continued.
The girl wandered down the candy aisle and looked around, trying to find whatever the woman had hidden.
" . . . The woman he abducted has brown hair and brown eyes, stands approximately 5 foot 10 inches. Both are approximately 35 years of age. Police are unsure of the name of the man, but the womans name is -"
"Sara Sidle?" the girl wondered aloud as she found the card and held it up in the light, tears springing to her eyes. Had the supposedly pregnant and newly married woman who'd just left been the kidnapping victim?
"Sara Sidle," the announcer confirmed. "She works with the LVPD, and the suspect is considered armed and dangerous. Utmost caution is very important, but if you see them, please contact LVPD immediately."
The young girl broke out into a sprint and grabbed the cordless phone, dialling 911. She raced to the doors of the Gas N' Go and locked up, incase the man decided to come back.
"911, what's your emergency?"
"My name is Carrie Marquez," she could hear her voice shaking. "Sara Sidle, the woman who was kidnapped a few hours ago, was just in my store. The kidnapper was here too. They just left."
After getting the appropriate details, the operator informed her that uniforms were on their way.
CSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSI
"There was a sighting!" Brass yelled as he flipped his cell phone shut, racing to the break room. "A small town about an hour and a half from here. She's alive!"
All of a sudden, a flurry of activity started with in the lab walls as the CSIs all ran to their vehicles. They had been sitting in the break room, ready to run as soon as a call came in. The kits were already loaded into the backs of their Denali's, jackets on, car keys in pockets. There was no time to waste.
And with that, a convoy of police cars and CSI vehicles raced out of Las Vegas, and further into the desert, chasing what could very well be the only lead they'd ever get that could lead to a happy ending . . .
CSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSI
"You're quick on your toes," he said, glancing over at Sara. She was confused. "When the girl said she didn't believe that we were married . . ."
Sara nodded her head in understanding. "No reason for anyone else to get dragged into this," she said quietly, looking down at her hands and feet which had remained unbound. Apparently, she was gaining his trust. "What's your name?" she asked in a whisper.
He glared over at her, pissed that she didn't know. "After everything we've been through together, and you have to ask me that?!"
"I'm sorry," she apologized, her head starting to throb with a dull ache. "I don't really remember much about . . ." she cleared her throat, trying to figure out the right words, "what happened. Back then."
"And why not?!" he sneered, suddenly his hand reached up and smacked her across her face.
Her hand immediately went to her cheek where his hand had just connected. She thought quickly, sputtering out, "when I moved back to San Francisco, after I finished at Harvard, I was involved in a pretty bad car accident. My car was totaled, but I walked away dazed and confused. I don't really remember much, but the doctors said it was a miracle that I survived. My only real injury was the fact that I hit my head, and ended up with a nasty concussion. I didn't remember a whole lot about my life before the accident. My memory is still pretty fuzzy. Some how I managed to remember everything academically. Doctors figured something traumatic must've happened in my past. My mother killed my father, so that's what they thought I was trying to block out . . ." She swallowed hard, hoping that he believed it. It was true that she had been in an accident that totaled her car, that she had walked away, and had ended up with a concussion, but she remembered everything vividly. Everything except how she was supposed to know him . . .
He softened a little. "Right, the pile up on the Interstate," he nodded his head. Sara closed her eyes, frightened and wondering just how long he'd been watching her . . . "I was in a car behind you. Managed to escape the crash. Man, that was a bad one . . . something like 13 dead?"
"Actually, 13 people died at the scene, but I think 5 more people died at the hospital," she answered. "Most of them were kids too. Going home from school on the bus . . ."
"I worked at the coffee kiosk," he finally answered. "You always bought a large drink of some kind, never sticking to just one thing. And a Sticky bun. You only like the centers."
"Best part," she said softly. He was quiet and she realized that he wasn't going to tell her anything else. At least she knew that he worked at a coffee kiosk . . . there were only two that she frequented at the University. The one near the library, and the one near her dorm room, which also happened to be the one near the Science buildings . . . "So, uh, how long did you work at the kiosk?"
"Started in August, and I left in January," he shrugged, his eyes never leaving the road. "I realized that if I kept working, you might recognize me."
"Why the other girls?" she was feeling a little braver now. He seemed to be responding without realizing it . . .
He shrugged. "They were there, and it just kinda happened. After the third girl, I realized that if I didn't stop, I'd be caught. Didn't want to spend my life in prison, so I backed off . . ." she waited for him to continue, not ready to press her luck. "But I had developed a taste for it." He stopped abruptly, realizing that he was telling her about this . . . "Ah, what the hell, I may as well tell you, right? Not like you're gonna be able to tell anyone after I'm done with you!"
She visibly flinched.
"I was watching you. At Harvard, before and after I attacked you. Didn't mean to let you get away, but it was out of my control. As much as I probably wouldn't have minded getting a piece of those little teeny boppers in the park, I realized that there were three of you and only one of me. Even with a knife, the odds weren't in my favor. Anyway, I kept close tabs on you. Heard you tell your friends you were moving back home once you graduated. So, I followed. I was getting an itch to get to you again, but then I realized that things needed to be perfect before that could happen, so those other three girls were sorta like practice."
Her blood ran cold.
"Like most 'serials' as you call them, I had a routine and found no reason to deviate from it. Saw you working the cases too. You reacted to them. Made my heart beat a little faster," he smirked.
"I couldn't remember what had happened to me because of my injury, but I felt like there was something framilar that I just couldn't put my finger on . . ."
"I followed you when you moved to Vegas. Saw you nursing a crush on your boss, Mr. Grissom. But I don't know . . . that seems to have fallen by the wayside, and you've been getting pretty cozy with that pretty boy Nick Stokes. You were devasted when he was kidnapped, huh?"
"We all were," she answered quietly.
"Then Vanessa White and Mary Bishop," he continued, recalling the most recent victims, "I don't know . . . I guess it was to watch you squirm. Having power is a turn on, you know," he said calmly. "And now," he sneered again, "here you are. With me."
She blinked back the tears. "After me, will this all be over? Or will other girls still get hurt?"
"I don't know, I haven't decided," he shrugged. "It's rather fun." He reached out to turn on the radio, wanting to end the questioning.
Sara sat in silence, processing everything she'd just heard . . . and why was that damned kiosk guys name not coming back to her? Granted, there were a few . . . but only one left her with a nagging feeling . . . what was his name? she asked herself . . . .
"Kevin?" she tried timidly, hoping she got it right.
"I thought we were done talking," he said, rolling his eyes.
"How do you . . . I mean . . . did you . . . After the accident, I remembered a name, but could never figure out who it belonged too and why it seemed so important to me . . . . does the name Alexander Danes mean anything to you?"
He snorted. "My Step brother. Guys an ass. Always taking what's not his . . . " she surpressed the urge to snort at how ironic that sounded coming from a man who raped and murdered women for fun. "He wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, so I did a lot of his school work for him. He had to keep a decent GPA to be able to stay on the High School football team. Really loved sports. So, I did his work for a favor to be named at a later date. Senior year of high school, a scout saw him play, checked out his GPA records, which thanks to me, were one of the highest in the school," he mentally patted himself on the back, "and managed to get a full ride at Notre Dame. Unfortunately, for him, anyway," he chuckled, "he broke his leg during practice. Had a surgery to correct it, but his ability to play went down the tubes. So, he became a cop. When I attacked you, and left you alive, I knew that you'd report me. Even though I told you not too, I knew you were a smart girl and you'd do it. So, I called him, told him not to ask any questions . . ."
"But cops are supposed to uphold the law."
"He was a dirty cop," he cocked an eyebrow at her as if she should've known that all along. "Cops don't make a lot, as I'm sure you're aware of, and he had a drug habit. Any time there was a drug bust going down, he was sure to get in on it. Had to skim a little off the top for himself. Any time they siezed a lot of cash, he took a brick of money. I knew all that, and he knew I could blow him out of the water. The week before it happened . . . he was being praised for being a hero. Rescuing someone from a burning building or something, I don't know, I can't really remember . . . he was high when he did that. He had a big hero complex to begin with, always wanting or needing to prove something, but he was the biggest chicken shit there was. If it hadn't been for the drugs, those people would've burned to a crisp."
"So he took my clothes, and the sexual assault kit and destroyed them? Didn't bother to file the report?"
"Nope, didn't file a report, but he didn't destroy the evidence either. I've still got it. It's in my apartment back in Vegas. A little something to remember you by . . . a parting gift, I suppose."
The music faded out and a repeat of the APB played over the radio airwaves, describing him, his truck, and Sara. "The last known sighting was at a Gas N' Go about an hour and a half North of Las Vegas city limits."
"SON OF A BITCH!" Kevin yelled, his fist hitting the steering wheel. Sara heard a pin drop and noticed that the steering wheel was slightly loose. He turned to her, "This is all your damn fault!" he sneered once again, his fist making contact with her face.
"OUCH!" she screamed, feeling the throbbing getting worse. "Kevin, you're going to loose control of the-" he slapped her again, and she whimpered.
The truck started to swirve, and he fought to regain control of the vehicle. But it was of no use, the truck tipped over and rolled down the highway multiple times before coming to a stop on it's roof in the ditch . . .
Everything in Sara's world went black.
TBC . . .
"Remember what I said," he sneered in her ear as they entered the gas station.
"I won't do anything stupid," she gasped with disgust when he moved the collar of her jacket and placed a wet kiss on her neck from behind.
"Just putting on a little show for the chick behind the counter," he responded. "Follow my lead."
She nodded her head slightly in agreement as he yanked open the heavy glass door.
"Hello darlin'," he faked a Texan accent like Nick's poorly.
The young girl smiled slightly in greeting. "Hello."
"Ah," he poked her in the side, startling her. It was his silent way of telling her to speak. She cleared her throat, trying to calm her nerves. "Where is the rest room?"
"We've only got the one," she nodded her head towards the back of the station. "It's in the corner."
"Thanks," he drawled again. "C'mon, Honey." He pushed Sara towards the back of the establishment.
"It'll look suspicious if you come in with me," she said.
"What're you planning?!" he spoke through gritted teeth, slowly continuing to push her down the aisle..
Sara realized that he was more than unstable. He was crazy. "Nothing," she stayed calm. "But it will look suspicious. I just want to keep the girl safe. We'll be outta here before you know it, OK?" She glanced up at the security camera, her eyes remaining fixed there as she continued to allow him to push her. "You can even check the room first before leaving me alone. You can check it after too, OK?"
He stopped dead, haulting her to a stop as well. He stepped beside her and turned her toward him, unsure of whether or not to trust her. He'd been watching her and was sure that if she wanted, she could fool him.
Sara took the opportunity to lean up and kiss him on the cheek, lingering for a moment longer than needed. She kept her lips close to his ear. Closing her eyes tight as if to transport her back to her bedroom where she could wake up from the horrible nightmare, she spoke "that's to make it look convincing OK? The girl will never suspect a thing."
He closed his eyes and made the decision. "Fine. But I'm checking the restroom before and after you go in."
She nodded her head in understanding, a tight smile pulling on her lips. "OK."
He grabbed her hand and made her follow him the rest of the way to the bathroom. She looked up at the monitor, praying that somehow, someway, someone would find her before it was too late.
"I'm waiting right here," he said after checking the washroom for any object that could aid her in getting away, or alerting someone that she had been taken against her will.
She nodded again. "I understand." She hated pacifying him. She stepped into the bathroom and immediately felt sick as she rushed towards the toilet, the heavy door closing and automatically locking behind her.
After heaving into the bowl, she stayed on her knees, trying to catch her breath and starting to regain her composure. A harsh knock on the door brought her back to reality.
She faked like she was throwing up again, making some gagging noises into the bowl, satisfied when it echoed around her in the small space.
The employee glanced towards him. "Is she OK? She sounds really sick."
He nodded his head, and turned back to the door, rolling his eyes. "Take your time, Sweetie," he called trying to sound loving. He looked back at the girl. "Morning Sickness. It's been a bitch. She's saying that who ever coined the term needs to be shot because it's all day, every day."
"Oh," she turned and walked away.
Sara continued to groan in the restroom like she were still throwing up as she glanced around looking for something. Anything. She felt her eyes watering. There was nothing that she could see. If there had been anything, he'd taken it. She dropped back down to her knees and proceeded to empty her stomach once again. This time, it was not the flu bug that made her sick -- it was the situation she was in.
She glanced down at her jacket and she prayed that she was right. She opened it up, revealing an inside pocket near the breast of the coat. She reached inside and was delighted to find her CSI business card, complete with her name and contact information as well as the labs information. In that moment, she saw the corner of the bathroom mirror was chipped.
"A little extra insurance," she whispered to herself as she placed the pad of her thumb on the edge of the shard. She flinched when she quickly moved her hand, dragging it across the jagged edge. She examined her finger and found that it was only a superficial cut, but it was enough to coat her other thumb in a thin layer of blood. She pressed the it against the CSI card, then proceeded to do the same on the back of the card. She placed the card back into the interior breast pocket of her jacket before flushing the toilet. She quickly washed her hands, wiped the blood away from the mirror, and then opened the door. He entered the small room and glanced around, satisfied that everything was in order and that she hadn't tried to leave a message for the next bathroom user to find.
They quickly grabbed a few bottles of water and a Ginger Ale to settle Sara's stomach.
"A little food for the road," he said, feeling his stomach grumble. Again, he dragged her with him to the junk food aisle which was in direct view of the register where the girl was now curiously watching the two. Something just didn't feel . . . right.
As he leaned over to grab a few bags of chips and other candies, she quickly, but subtly opened her jacket pulling out her bloodied business card. She brought her hand up to her lips and indicated for the girl to be quiet. She reached over to the other side of the aisle and carefully placed the card underneath a candy box, all the while keeping eye contact with the girl.
"Alright," he decided, standing up, "I think that's everything." He never released his grip on her as he quickly made his way to the check out, his arms loaded down with snacks. She unloaded the bottled beverages that lined her chest, pinned there by her arm, on the counter.
The girl proceeded to scan the items while making small chit chat. "So, where are you coming from?"
"The Little White Chapel," he smiled. "We just got hitched." He nudged Sara who was still looking pale. He cocked his head to the side, "baby still giving you grief?"
She nodded a slight nod. "Uh, yeah, I think so."
"I didn't think you two were married," the girl stated innocently. "I didn't see any rings on your fingers."
He looked like he was caught and Sara could feel him reaching for his knife. "Oh, no, we can't afford rings right now. We've had a bit of bad luck, and the casinos have our life savings. All we have now is our love, our baby," she placed a hand on her flat, toned abdomin, "and each other."
He looked over at her, shocked that she came up with that so fast. He chuckled nervously. "Yeah, all that and our beat up truck."
The girl glanced outside at the truck parked near the front door.
"Good trucks, those Chevy's," she said. "My brother drove one for ten years. Never checked or changed the oil, and it never gave him any problems. My boyfriend wants to buy one too."
"Well," he smirked, "Chevy's got my vote."
Sara just forced a smile and nodded her head.
The girl gave him the total, he paid, and she handed over the bag of goodies and bid them goodbye, all the while watching them leave. She noted when Sara glanced back at her and then threw a glance to the candy aisle.
The phone rang and she picked it up quickly. "Gas N' Go," she spoke. "Oh, hi mom . . . . .Yeah, it's pretty quiet tonight. But then again, when isn't it? . . . . Tina should be coming by to pick me up in about an hour . . . no, no, I have my key, so you don't have to leave the house unlocked . . . " she noted the truck pulling out and back onto the road. "I'll talk to you tomorrow. Love you . . . Bye."
"And that was Norah Jones with her hit from a few years ago 'Turn Me On'," the radio announcers voice filtered through the air. "Now, we have some breaking news straight from the LVPD," he rattled off. "There was an abduction just a few hours ago at an apartment complex in Sin City. The suspect is driving a late 80's model Chevy truck, blue-grey in color. He is approximately 6 foot 2 inches, with sandy blond hair," he continued.
The girl wandered down the candy aisle and looked around, trying to find whatever the woman had hidden.
" . . . The woman he abducted has brown hair and brown eyes, stands approximately 5 foot 10 inches. Both are approximately 35 years of age. Police are unsure of the name of the man, but the womans name is -"
"Sara Sidle?" the girl wondered aloud as she found the card and held it up in the light, tears springing to her eyes. Had the supposedly pregnant and newly married woman who'd just left been the kidnapping victim?
"Sara Sidle," the announcer confirmed. "She works with the LVPD, and the suspect is considered armed and dangerous. Utmost caution is very important, but if you see them, please contact LVPD immediately."
The young girl broke out into a sprint and grabbed the cordless phone, dialling 911. She raced to the doors of the Gas N' Go and locked up, incase the man decided to come back.
"911, what's your emergency?"
"My name is Carrie Marquez," she could hear her voice shaking. "Sara Sidle, the woman who was kidnapped a few hours ago, was just in my store. The kidnapper was here too. They just left."
After getting the appropriate details, the operator informed her that uniforms were on their way.
CSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSI
"There was a sighting!" Brass yelled as he flipped his cell phone shut, racing to the break room. "A small town about an hour and a half from here. She's alive!"
All of a sudden, a flurry of activity started with in the lab walls as the CSIs all ran to their vehicles. They had been sitting in the break room, ready to run as soon as a call came in. The kits were already loaded into the backs of their Denali's, jackets on, car keys in pockets. There was no time to waste.
And with that, a convoy of police cars and CSI vehicles raced out of Las Vegas, and further into the desert, chasing what could very well be the only lead they'd ever get that could lead to a happy ending . . .
CSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSI
"You're quick on your toes," he said, glancing over at Sara. She was confused. "When the girl said she didn't believe that we were married . . ."
Sara nodded her head in understanding. "No reason for anyone else to get dragged into this," she said quietly, looking down at her hands and feet which had remained unbound. Apparently, she was gaining his trust. "What's your name?" she asked in a whisper.
He glared over at her, pissed that she didn't know. "After everything we've been through together, and you have to ask me that?!"
"I'm sorry," she apologized, her head starting to throb with a dull ache. "I don't really remember much about . . ." she cleared her throat, trying to figure out the right words, "what happened. Back then."
"And why not?!" he sneered, suddenly his hand reached up and smacked her across her face.
Her hand immediately went to her cheek where his hand had just connected. She thought quickly, sputtering out, "when I moved back to San Francisco, after I finished at Harvard, I was involved in a pretty bad car accident. My car was totaled, but I walked away dazed and confused. I don't really remember much, but the doctors said it was a miracle that I survived. My only real injury was the fact that I hit my head, and ended up with a nasty concussion. I didn't remember a whole lot about my life before the accident. My memory is still pretty fuzzy. Some how I managed to remember everything academically. Doctors figured something traumatic must've happened in my past. My mother killed my father, so that's what they thought I was trying to block out . . ." She swallowed hard, hoping that he believed it. It was true that she had been in an accident that totaled her car, that she had walked away, and had ended up with a concussion, but she remembered everything vividly. Everything except how she was supposed to know him . . .
He softened a little. "Right, the pile up on the Interstate," he nodded his head. Sara closed her eyes, frightened and wondering just how long he'd been watching her . . . "I was in a car behind you. Managed to escape the crash. Man, that was a bad one . . . something like 13 dead?"
"Actually, 13 people died at the scene, but I think 5 more people died at the hospital," she answered. "Most of them were kids too. Going home from school on the bus . . ."
"I worked at the coffee kiosk," he finally answered. "You always bought a large drink of some kind, never sticking to just one thing. And a Sticky bun. You only like the centers."
"Best part," she said softly. He was quiet and she realized that he wasn't going to tell her anything else. At least she knew that he worked at a coffee kiosk . . . there were only two that she frequented at the University. The one near the library, and the one near her dorm room, which also happened to be the one near the Science buildings . . . "So, uh, how long did you work at the kiosk?"
"Started in August, and I left in January," he shrugged, his eyes never leaving the road. "I realized that if I kept working, you might recognize me."
"Why the other girls?" she was feeling a little braver now. He seemed to be responding without realizing it . . .
He shrugged. "They were there, and it just kinda happened. After the third girl, I realized that if I didn't stop, I'd be caught. Didn't want to spend my life in prison, so I backed off . . ." she waited for him to continue, not ready to press her luck. "But I had developed a taste for it." He stopped abruptly, realizing that he was telling her about this . . . "Ah, what the hell, I may as well tell you, right? Not like you're gonna be able to tell anyone after I'm done with you!"
She visibly flinched.
"I was watching you. At Harvard, before and after I attacked you. Didn't mean to let you get away, but it was out of my control. As much as I probably wouldn't have minded getting a piece of those little teeny boppers in the park, I realized that there were three of you and only one of me. Even with a knife, the odds weren't in my favor. Anyway, I kept close tabs on you. Heard you tell your friends you were moving back home once you graduated. So, I followed. I was getting an itch to get to you again, but then I realized that things needed to be perfect before that could happen, so those other three girls were sorta like practice."
Her blood ran cold.
"Like most 'serials' as you call them, I had a routine and found no reason to deviate from it. Saw you working the cases too. You reacted to them. Made my heart beat a little faster," he smirked.
"I couldn't remember what had happened to me because of my injury, but I felt like there was something framilar that I just couldn't put my finger on . . ."
"I followed you when you moved to Vegas. Saw you nursing a crush on your boss, Mr. Grissom. But I don't know . . . that seems to have fallen by the wayside, and you've been getting pretty cozy with that pretty boy Nick Stokes. You were devasted when he was kidnapped, huh?"
"We all were," she answered quietly.
"Then Vanessa White and Mary Bishop," he continued, recalling the most recent victims, "I don't know . . . I guess it was to watch you squirm. Having power is a turn on, you know," he said calmly. "And now," he sneered again, "here you are. With me."
She blinked back the tears. "After me, will this all be over? Or will other girls still get hurt?"
"I don't know, I haven't decided," he shrugged. "It's rather fun." He reached out to turn on the radio, wanting to end the questioning.
Sara sat in silence, processing everything she'd just heard . . . and why was that damned kiosk guys name not coming back to her? Granted, there were a few . . . but only one left her with a nagging feeling . . . what was his name? she asked herself . . . .
"Kevin?" she tried timidly, hoping she got it right.
"I thought we were done talking," he said, rolling his eyes.
"How do you . . . I mean . . . did you . . . After the accident, I remembered a name, but could never figure out who it belonged too and why it seemed so important to me . . . . does the name Alexander Danes mean anything to you?"
He snorted. "My Step brother. Guys an ass. Always taking what's not his . . . " she surpressed the urge to snort at how ironic that sounded coming from a man who raped and murdered women for fun. "He wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, so I did a lot of his school work for him. He had to keep a decent GPA to be able to stay on the High School football team. Really loved sports. So, I did his work for a favor to be named at a later date. Senior year of high school, a scout saw him play, checked out his GPA records, which thanks to me, were one of the highest in the school," he mentally patted himself on the back, "and managed to get a full ride at Notre Dame. Unfortunately, for him, anyway," he chuckled, "he broke his leg during practice. Had a surgery to correct it, but his ability to play went down the tubes. So, he became a cop. When I attacked you, and left you alive, I knew that you'd report me. Even though I told you not too, I knew you were a smart girl and you'd do it. So, I called him, told him not to ask any questions . . ."
"But cops are supposed to uphold the law."
"He was a dirty cop," he cocked an eyebrow at her as if she should've known that all along. "Cops don't make a lot, as I'm sure you're aware of, and he had a drug habit. Any time there was a drug bust going down, he was sure to get in on it. Had to skim a little off the top for himself. Any time they siezed a lot of cash, he took a brick of money. I knew all that, and he knew I could blow him out of the water. The week before it happened . . . he was being praised for being a hero. Rescuing someone from a burning building or something, I don't know, I can't really remember . . . he was high when he did that. He had a big hero complex to begin with, always wanting or needing to prove something, but he was the biggest chicken shit there was. If it hadn't been for the drugs, those people would've burned to a crisp."
"So he took my clothes, and the sexual assault kit and destroyed them? Didn't bother to file the report?"
"Nope, didn't file a report, but he didn't destroy the evidence either. I've still got it. It's in my apartment back in Vegas. A little something to remember you by . . . a parting gift, I suppose."
The music faded out and a repeat of the APB played over the radio airwaves, describing him, his truck, and Sara. "The last known sighting was at a Gas N' Go about an hour and a half North of Las Vegas city limits."
"SON OF A BITCH!" Kevin yelled, his fist hitting the steering wheel. Sara heard a pin drop and noticed that the steering wheel was slightly loose. He turned to her, "This is all your damn fault!" he sneered once again, his fist making contact with her face.
"OUCH!" she screamed, feeling the throbbing getting worse. "Kevin, you're going to loose control of the-" he slapped her again, and she whimpered.
The truck started to swirve, and he fought to regain control of the vehicle. But it was of no use, the truck tipped over and rolled down the highway multiple times before coming to a stop on it's roof in the ditch . . .
Everything in Sara's world went black.
TBC . . .
sarahSidle1981
Lab Technician
I love the story, and can't want to see what happen next.
AshleyFirst223
Pathologist
I'm dying. I love this story. You AMAZE me.
SA_Kate_937
Police Officer
OMG! This has taken me three days to get through with my mountain of homework that has been hoarding me... But, omg, it has been worth it!
Please, please continue.
Great, superb writing.
Kate.
Please, please continue.
Great, superb writing.
Kate.
MegBreanne
Police Officer
Chapter 17:
The girl from the Gas N' Go quickly unlocked the door as a stream of police cars, trucks and SUVs blazed into the parking lot, lights flashing.
She noticed a brown haired man jump out of the passenger side of one of the SUVs before it had even completely stopped. She opened the door to introduce herself, but the man was quick.
"Nick Stokes, CSI," he flashed his ID card. "What exactly happened?"
Quickly the rest of the team, along with Brass and Sophia, as well as a few other officers, piled into the Gas N' Go waiting to hear what had happened, first hand.
She picked up the CSI card with the bloodied print. "She left this. She made sure that I saw her when she put it under this box," she wandered down the candy aisle. "The guy she was with was preoccupied with finding some munchies."
"What did he say? Did she say anything?"
"I got the feeling that she couldn't. He wouldn't leave her alone. The only time that they were apart was when she was in the bathroom. I heard her throwing up and assumed that maybe she needed some help. He was standing right outside the bathroom door, like he was standing guard. Said it was morning sickness that lasted all day. She was pretty pale."
Sophia went to the rest stop bathroom and glanced inside looking for anything that Sara may have left behind, but came up empty.
Nick clenched his fists at the idea of him discussing Sara like she were pregnant -- with his child. It was bad enough that he'd raped her once, but the idea that he could do it again . . . no words could describe how horrible the thought was. But at least rape was about violence. Expecting a child . . . to Nick, that signified intimacy. And love.
"She's sick, probably the flu," Catherine said to the girl, placing a hand on Nick's arm to calm him as best she could.
"Other than that, they said that they were a couple. Well, he said, anyway. Mentioned getting hitched in Vegas. They weren't wearing rings, and when I had mentioned it, he seemed to get really nervous and I thought he was going to explode. A little vein on the side of his neck started throbbing. She jumped in and said that they couldn't afford rings. All they had was each other. And their baby. She didn't really speak like she was happy, or mad, or anything. Just kind of like she was indifferent."
Warrick glanced at Grissom. "Probably threatening to hurt her. Or someone else."
"He seemed almost relieve that she'd jumped in," she shrugged her shoulders. "Anyway, then they left. Headed north."
"What were they driving?"
"An old Chevy. I don't know the year."
The sound of a large, detailed road map was heard as Greg unfolded the paper and spread it across the counter. "We're here," he pointed to the X he'd marked on the map while on the drive. If they headed North, there are no other roads for 80 miles."
"Have you seen any traffic headed south, back towards Vegas, since they left?"
"Only big rigs," she shook her head.
Ecklie stepped into the building. Even though he was the Supervisor of the department now, Sara was one of his employees. He needed to be there. If for no other reason than to say that the department did everything they could to save one of their own.
"Let's go," Nick said as he headed for the door.
"Nick, they've had a huge head start -"
"She's out there!" he shouted at the team. "She's out there, alone with a guy whose already hurt her once, and he'll do it again."
"We understand," Jim said, trying to stay calm. The professional part of him wanted to follow protocol. But the personal side of him wanted to damn it all to hell and go out there, guns blazing -- just to bring Sara back. "But he's had a massive head start, Nick. And it doesn't take long to drive 80 miles per hour when you're speeding. There are tons of access roads up North. They could've taken any of them. We could just end up getting farther away."
"Well, as it stands, they're getting farther away from us, and Sara is getting closer and closer to only God knows what this guy has planned for her!"
"Nick, I know that you and Sara are close, but -"
"Close?" his face contorted and his eye brows furrowed. He looked Grissom square in the eye. It was then that he realized he was letting his emotions get the best of him. He knew that if he had any chance at all of getting Sara back, unharmed, he had to think logically. As logically as his heart and brain would allow. Taking a deep breath, he said, "I'm going after her. If you feel that you have to stay here to get her back, you do that. But I'm going to follow my heart. And it's telling me that if I don't go after her now, she's never coming home."
Grissom nodded his head in understanding.
"Must I remind you that it is against department policy?" Ecklie said, stone faced. "If any one of you take this matter into your own hands, it'll go before the review board. And chances are, you'll loose your jobs."
"Sara's life is worth loosing my job for," Nick said as he walked briskly through the door towards the Denali.
"Mine too," Warrick responded, sprinting after Nick. He was in no condition to be driving.
Greg nodded his head curtly at Ecklie as he moved towards the door.
Ecklie looked at Gil and Catherine. "I sure hope the two of you know better. You've spent years getting to where you are now. Are you willing to risk loosing your jobs?"
Catherine nodded her head, as did Grissom. "If the review board wants to fire us all for insubordination, that's fine. But I highly doubt they'll take action when an entire team tries to rescue one of their own. Besides, there is a reason that the Las Vegas lab is number two in the country. And you're watching the team that gave the lab that status walk out of that door."
Grissom smirked. It was all he could do as the look of shock washed across the department managers features. He glanced at Catherine. "We're wasting time standing here."
She nodded her head and the two of them were off, jumping into the Denali that they'd driven up in.
"Can you believe that?" he asked stunned, turning to watch the Denali tail lights disappear as they sped down the paved road that the State called a Highway.
Sophia smirked at her one time supervisor. He may have hated Grissom, but he always shared one major thing in common with the man who loved bugs: His inability to see the human condition when it comes to those one cares about. Sara was one of them. She was a CSI, she was a person who upheld the law. She was a woman who'd forged friendships and created a family with her co-workers. Willing to live and die by the breath the other took.
Ecklie turned to her and Brass. "We at least the two of you have the God given sense to-"
"I think we have a lead to follow," Brass interrupted him.
"No time to waste," she agreed, quickly following Brass to the newly issued Dodge Charger.
CSICSICSICSICSICSICSI
Nick sat in the passenger side of the Denali as Warrick sped north on the paved Highway. "Come on!" he urged under his breath. He knew that Warrick was pushing the Denali's limits and if they went any faster, they ran the risk of the motor blowing. And that was just a problem that could not happen.
"We're going to get there in time, man," Warrick encouraged him, though he knew his voice sounded more confident than he felt.
"Sara's strong," Greg continued. "She's going to fight with everything that she has. She's going to be fine."
"She has to be," Nick's voice wavered a little as a stray tear trailed down his cheek. "She just has to be."
CSICSICSICSICSICSICSI
40 miles up the road
Sara was groggy when she heard sounds of shattering glass. She whimpered in pain, trying to move her arm, but it was really sore. The more she tried to move it, the worse it hurt. She tried to move her other hand up to her forehead where she felt some warm blood trickling, but she felt her body being yanked out of a small space . . . the shards of glass that she'd heard shattered piercing the thin cotton that covered her body making irregular scratches. Some of the glass embedding itself into her skin, drawing more blood.
She glanced up at Kevin, her mind barely registering what had happened. But she was able to figure out that the truck at rolled, finally stopping in the ditch on its roof. The sound of the glass breaking had been Kevin breaking the passenger side window in because the door was jammed. He'd yanked her out of the vehicle by her hair through the small, freshly broken window.
"GOD DAMMIT!" he cursed, yanking her to her feet.
Sara could smell the scent of gasoline and noticed a spark threatening to ignite a fire. "It's gonna blow," she whispered, taking a few steps away from the wreckage.
"Nah, uh," he spat angrily. "You aren't going anywhere." He roughly pulled against him, and then grabbed the knife that was still firmly embedded in his pocket.
"Wh . . . what are you dong?" she breathed, starting down at the blade, the moonlight catching the metal.
"What I've been waiting 16 years for," he grinned, his eyes once again dead.
Suddenly, Sara remembered back to the day that she'd had her meeting with the financial planner. The guy at the diner. The one who was creeping her out and telling her to sit on his lap since they'd get along so well . . . Nick had come up and saved her, inviting her to join him and his family . . . but the guy . . . it had been Kevin.
"You don't want to do this," she shook her head, cursing herself when a tear fell from her eye. Then another.
"Oh? And why not?"
"You said yourself that you don't want to spend the rest of your life in prison."
"Once I'm done with you, you won't be talking," he smiled even larger now.
"But you don't have any way of getting out of here. The truck is going to explode. You can do whatever you want to me, but you'll leave trace evidence everywhere when you try to get away. And they'll find it. I know they will. And that's assuming that no one comes along and see's you . . . and me. What would you do then?"
His lips formed a rigidly straight line as he contemplated what she was saying.
"I know that you carefully thought things through before," she said, "but if you do this here, now, without a plan, you'll mess up and they'll get you."
BOOM The truck exploded, and the force of gas igniting and the truck going up caused a back draft that threw Kevin and Sara to the ground.
"See, now you're totally stuck," Sara shook her head. She knew that if he wanted, he could rape and murder her right there in the ditch and then walk into the bushes and disappear, but she didn't have any other option.
"SHUT UP!" he commanded, quickly regaining control of the situation as he rolled on top of her, pawing at the tank top she was wearing, ripping one shoulder, exposing a portion of her sports bra. He was trying to make quick work of the draw string pants, but she fought back, kneeing him in the groin.
"YOU LITTLE BITCH!" he yelled, grabbing an ankle as she tried to crawl away from him, dragging him back under her. He started to pummel her when he saw the lights of a vehicle approaching. "FUCK!" he looked up to see a single Mazda 3 coming to a stop.
"OH MY GOD!" the girl shrieked. "Are you two OK?!" she jumped down into the ditch to try and help
"FINE!" He yelled, motioning for her to stay up there, but she didn't listen.
"Oh, Jesus!" the girl gasped.
Sara looked up into the framiliar eyes of Lindsay Willows. She blinked back the tears and managed to shake her head to Lindsay, silently hoping and praying that she wouldn't give away the fact that they knew each other.
Kevin yanked Sara to her feet once again. "Looks like I have two victims, now," he laughed. He held Sara against his chest, his arm around her throat as his other hand reached out to graze Lindsay's cheek with the blade of the knife. "Not really my taste, but what the hell? Maybe I've been missing something all these years . . . do blonds really have more fun?" he asked.
"Let her go," Sara weazed. "She's just a . . . kid."
"I think I may have found our getaway car," he sneered. Now his plan wasn't shot to hell after all. He managed to get them all out of the ditch and onto the road, he and Sara nearing the Mazda.
"Get in the car," he motioned for Lindsay to get in the back seat. But the girl stood frozen in place, unsure of what to do.
Suddenly, Sara found some strength and stomped on his foot, taking his gaze away from Lindsay.
"RUN!" she yelled to Lindsay. The girl had become like a little sister to Sara and she was willing to do whatever it took to get Lindsay out of harms way.
Without hesitation, the young girl took off for the brush, throwing a glance over her shoulder at Sara as she struggled with the strange man that held the knife.
Lindsay ran into the brush and crouched down to look back at what was going on when she was a safe distance away, sure that if she needed, she could run and keep a safe distance between her the dangerous man. She watched, flinching as he pummeled Sara's body time and again, slapping and punching, twisting her obviously sore arm, her heart breaking each time she heard Sara cry out in pain . . . Then he pushed her into the now open trunk of the car, slamming the lid behind her.
The man turned to look towards the brush and Lindsay dropped her head as far down as she could, so not to be seen.
"I'll worry about that little bitch later," he murmured, heading towards the drivers seat. "Dumb, too," he smirked, "doesn't she know that if she leave the keys in the ignition someone can drive away with her car?"
He quickly turned the car around so they would continue to head north, but purposefully steered the car roughly so that Sara's small body which was already wedged in the trunk tightly, would jar with the movements.
"Shit," she cried, in complete darkness, grabbing at wires in the trunk and furiously pulling at them. She knew that if anyone saw a car without break lights, it might raise some red flags. Once the wires were successfully yanked from their place, she started feeling around for anything to use to save herself with . . . .
"God, please let Lindsay be OK," she cried . . . .
TBC . . . .
A/N: Suddenly, Sara remembered back to the day that she'd had her meeting with the financial planner. The guy at the diner. The one who was creeping her out and telling her to sit on his lap since they'd get along so well . . . Nick had come up and saved her, inviting her to join him and his family . . . but the guy . . . it had been Kevin. This is happened in chapter 1.
The girl from the Gas N' Go quickly unlocked the door as a stream of police cars, trucks and SUVs blazed into the parking lot, lights flashing.
She noticed a brown haired man jump out of the passenger side of one of the SUVs before it had even completely stopped. She opened the door to introduce herself, but the man was quick.
"Nick Stokes, CSI," he flashed his ID card. "What exactly happened?"
Quickly the rest of the team, along with Brass and Sophia, as well as a few other officers, piled into the Gas N' Go waiting to hear what had happened, first hand.
She picked up the CSI card with the bloodied print. "She left this. She made sure that I saw her when she put it under this box," she wandered down the candy aisle. "The guy she was with was preoccupied with finding some munchies."
"What did he say? Did she say anything?"
"I got the feeling that she couldn't. He wouldn't leave her alone. The only time that they were apart was when she was in the bathroom. I heard her throwing up and assumed that maybe she needed some help. He was standing right outside the bathroom door, like he was standing guard. Said it was morning sickness that lasted all day. She was pretty pale."
Sophia went to the rest stop bathroom and glanced inside looking for anything that Sara may have left behind, but came up empty.
Nick clenched his fists at the idea of him discussing Sara like she were pregnant -- with his child. It was bad enough that he'd raped her once, but the idea that he could do it again . . . no words could describe how horrible the thought was. But at least rape was about violence. Expecting a child . . . to Nick, that signified intimacy. And love.
"She's sick, probably the flu," Catherine said to the girl, placing a hand on Nick's arm to calm him as best she could.
"Other than that, they said that they were a couple. Well, he said, anyway. Mentioned getting hitched in Vegas. They weren't wearing rings, and when I had mentioned it, he seemed to get really nervous and I thought he was going to explode. A little vein on the side of his neck started throbbing. She jumped in and said that they couldn't afford rings. All they had was each other. And their baby. She didn't really speak like she was happy, or mad, or anything. Just kind of like she was indifferent."
Warrick glanced at Grissom. "Probably threatening to hurt her. Or someone else."
"He seemed almost relieve that she'd jumped in," she shrugged her shoulders. "Anyway, then they left. Headed north."
"What were they driving?"
"An old Chevy. I don't know the year."
The sound of a large, detailed road map was heard as Greg unfolded the paper and spread it across the counter. "We're here," he pointed to the X he'd marked on the map while on the drive. If they headed North, there are no other roads for 80 miles."
"Have you seen any traffic headed south, back towards Vegas, since they left?"
"Only big rigs," she shook her head.
Ecklie stepped into the building. Even though he was the Supervisor of the department now, Sara was one of his employees. He needed to be there. If for no other reason than to say that the department did everything they could to save one of their own.
"Let's go," Nick said as he headed for the door.
"Nick, they've had a huge head start -"
"She's out there!" he shouted at the team. "She's out there, alone with a guy whose already hurt her once, and he'll do it again."
"We understand," Jim said, trying to stay calm. The professional part of him wanted to follow protocol. But the personal side of him wanted to damn it all to hell and go out there, guns blazing -- just to bring Sara back. "But he's had a massive head start, Nick. And it doesn't take long to drive 80 miles per hour when you're speeding. There are tons of access roads up North. They could've taken any of them. We could just end up getting farther away."
"Well, as it stands, they're getting farther away from us, and Sara is getting closer and closer to only God knows what this guy has planned for her!"
"Nick, I know that you and Sara are close, but -"
"Close?" his face contorted and his eye brows furrowed. He looked Grissom square in the eye. It was then that he realized he was letting his emotions get the best of him. He knew that if he had any chance at all of getting Sara back, unharmed, he had to think logically. As logically as his heart and brain would allow. Taking a deep breath, he said, "I'm going after her. If you feel that you have to stay here to get her back, you do that. But I'm going to follow my heart. And it's telling me that if I don't go after her now, she's never coming home."
Grissom nodded his head in understanding.
"Must I remind you that it is against department policy?" Ecklie said, stone faced. "If any one of you take this matter into your own hands, it'll go before the review board. And chances are, you'll loose your jobs."
"Sara's life is worth loosing my job for," Nick said as he walked briskly through the door towards the Denali.
"Mine too," Warrick responded, sprinting after Nick. He was in no condition to be driving.
Greg nodded his head curtly at Ecklie as he moved towards the door.
Ecklie looked at Gil and Catherine. "I sure hope the two of you know better. You've spent years getting to where you are now. Are you willing to risk loosing your jobs?"
Catherine nodded her head, as did Grissom. "If the review board wants to fire us all for insubordination, that's fine. But I highly doubt they'll take action when an entire team tries to rescue one of their own. Besides, there is a reason that the Las Vegas lab is number two in the country. And you're watching the team that gave the lab that status walk out of that door."
Grissom smirked. It was all he could do as the look of shock washed across the department managers features. He glanced at Catherine. "We're wasting time standing here."
She nodded her head and the two of them were off, jumping into the Denali that they'd driven up in.
"Can you believe that?" he asked stunned, turning to watch the Denali tail lights disappear as they sped down the paved road that the State called a Highway.
Sophia smirked at her one time supervisor. He may have hated Grissom, but he always shared one major thing in common with the man who loved bugs: His inability to see the human condition when it comes to those one cares about. Sara was one of them. She was a CSI, she was a person who upheld the law. She was a woman who'd forged friendships and created a family with her co-workers. Willing to live and die by the breath the other took.
Ecklie turned to her and Brass. "We at least the two of you have the God given sense to-"
"I think we have a lead to follow," Brass interrupted him.
"No time to waste," she agreed, quickly following Brass to the newly issued Dodge Charger.
CSICSICSICSICSICSICSI
Nick sat in the passenger side of the Denali as Warrick sped north on the paved Highway. "Come on!" he urged under his breath. He knew that Warrick was pushing the Denali's limits and if they went any faster, they ran the risk of the motor blowing. And that was just a problem that could not happen.
"We're going to get there in time, man," Warrick encouraged him, though he knew his voice sounded more confident than he felt.
"Sara's strong," Greg continued. "She's going to fight with everything that she has. She's going to be fine."
"She has to be," Nick's voice wavered a little as a stray tear trailed down his cheek. "She just has to be."
CSICSICSICSICSICSICSI
40 miles up the road
Sara was groggy when she heard sounds of shattering glass. She whimpered in pain, trying to move her arm, but it was really sore. The more she tried to move it, the worse it hurt. She tried to move her other hand up to her forehead where she felt some warm blood trickling, but she felt her body being yanked out of a small space . . . the shards of glass that she'd heard shattered piercing the thin cotton that covered her body making irregular scratches. Some of the glass embedding itself into her skin, drawing more blood.
She glanced up at Kevin, her mind barely registering what had happened. But she was able to figure out that the truck at rolled, finally stopping in the ditch on its roof. The sound of the glass breaking had been Kevin breaking the passenger side window in because the door was jammed. He'd yanked her out of the vehicle by her hair through the small, freshly broken window.
"GOD DAMMIT!" he cursed, yanking her to her feet.
Sara could smell the scent of gasoline and noticed a spark threatening to ignite a fire. "It's gonna blow," she whispered, taking a few steps away from the wreckage.
"Nah, uh," he spat angrily. "You aren't going anywhere." He roughly pulled against him, and then grabbed the knife that was still firmly embedded in his pocket.
"Wh . . . what are you dong?" she breathed, starting down at the blade, the moonlight catching the metal.
"What I've been waiting 16 years for," he grinned, his eyes once again dead.
Suddenly, Sara remembered back to the day that she'd had her meeting with the financial planner. The guy at the diner. The one who was creeping her out and telling her to sit on his lap since they'd get along so well . . . Nick had come up and saved her, inviting her to join him and his family . . . but the guy . . . it had been Kevin.
"You don't want to do this," she shook her head, cursing herself when a tear fell from her eye. Then another.
"Oh? And why not?"
"You said yourself that you don't want to spend the rest of your life in prison."
"Once I'm done with you, you won't be talking," he smiled even larger now.
"But you don't have any way of getting out of here. The truck is going to explode. You can do whatever you want to me, but you'll leave trace evidence everywhere when you try to get away. And they'll find it. I know they will. And that's assuming that no one comes along and see's you . . . and me. What would you do then?"
His lips formed a rigidly straight line as he contemplated what she was saying.
"I know that you carefully thought things through before," she said, "but if you do this here, now, without a plan, you'll mess up and they'll get you."
BOOM The truck exploded, and the force of gas igniting and the truck going up caused a back draft that threw Kevin and Sara to the ground.
"See, now you're totally stuck," Sara shook her head. She knew that if he wanted, he could rape and murder her right there in the ditch and then walk into the bushes and disappear, but she didn't have any other option.
"SHUT UP!" he commanded, quickly regaining control of the situation as he rolled on top of her, pawing at the tank top she was wearing, ripping one shoulder, exposing a portion of her sports bra. He was trying to make quick work of the draw string pants, but she fought back, kneeing him in the groin.
"YOU LITTLE BITCH!" he yelled, grabbing an ankle as she tried to crawl away from him, dragging him back under her. He started to pummel her when he saw the lights of a vehicle approaching. "FUCK!" he looked up to see a single Mazda 3 coming to a stop.
"OH MY GOD!" the girl shrieked. "Are you two OK?!" she jumped down into the ditch to try and help
"FINE!" He yelled, motioning for her to stay up there, but she didn't listen.
"Oh, Jesus!" the girl gasped.
Sara looked up into the framiliar eyes of Lindsay Willows. She blinked back the tears and managed to shake her head to Lindsay, silently hoping and praying that she wouldn't give away the fact that they knew each other.
Kevin yanked Sara to her feet once again. "Looks like I have two victims, now," he laughed. He held Sara against his chest, his arm around her throat as his other hand reached out to graze Lindsay's cheek with the blade of the knife. "Not really my taste, but what the hell? Maybe I've been missing something all these years . . . do blonds really have more fun?" he asked.
"Let her go," Sara weazed. "She's just a . . . kid."
"I think I may have found our getaway car," he sneered. Now his plan wasn't shot to hell after all. He managed to get them all out of the ditch and onto the road, he and Sara nearing the Mazda.
"Get in the car," he motioned for Lindsay to get in the back seat. But the girl stood frozen in place, unsure of what to do.
Suddenly, Sara found some strength and stomped on his foot, taking his gaze away from Lindsay.
"RUN!" she yelled to Lindsay. The girl had become like a little sister to Sara and she was willing to do whatever it took to get Lindsay out of harms way.
Without hesitation, the young girl took off for the brush, throwing a glance over her shoulder at Sara as she struggled with the strange man that held the knife.
Lindsay ran into the brush and crouched down to look back at what was going on when she was a safe distance away, sure that if she needed, she could run and keep a safe distance between her the dangerous man. She watched, flinching as he pummeled Sara's body time and again, slapping and punching, twisting her obviously sore arm, her heart breaking each time she heard Sara cry out in pain . . . Then he pushed her into the now open trunk of the car, slamming the lid behind her.
The man turned to look towards the brush and Lindsay dropped her head as far down as she could, so not to be seen.
"I'll worry about that little bitch later," he murmured, heading towards the drivers seat. "Dumb, too," he smirked, "doesn't she know that if she leave the keys in the ignition someone can drive away with her car?"
He quickly turned the car around so they would continue to head north, but purposefully steered the car roughly so that Sara's small body which was already wedged in the trunk tightly, would jar with the movements.
"Shit," she cried, in complete darkness, grabbing at wires in the trunk and furiously pulling at them. She knew that if anyone saw a car without break lights, it might raise some red flags. Once the wires were successfully yanked from their place, she started feeling around for anything to use to save herself with . . . .
"God, please let Lindsay be OK," she cried . . . .
TBC . . . .
A/N: Suddenly, Sara remembered back to the day that she'd had her meeting with the financial planner. The guy at the diner. The one who was creeping her out and telling her to sit on his lap since they'd get along so well . . . Nick had come up and saved her, inviting her to join him and his family . . . but the guy . . . it had been Kevin. This is happened in chapter 1.
sarahSidle1981
Lab Technician
I love it, can't wait to read the next part.
ahhhhhh tha woss soo gd reading it i felt lyk i was sara an i was being htro wa she was im dying to no wa hapens plzzzz e mails me da rest on aysha_manneh@hotmail.com plzz thanks so much for doing this u so cleva luvvoo XxXayshaXxX
AshleyFirst223
Pathologist
Can I marry you!? you rock!!! Oh man, I'm like super into this. Good Job.
Lindsey was an awesome twist! Oh man...
Lindsey was an awesome twist! Oh man...
MegBreanne
Police Officer
chapter 18:
"Oh, God," Greg gasped, eyes wide. "What is that?"
"It's a truck!" Nick felt his heart leap into his throat as he watched the blaze. The truck was fully engulfed, small explosions still continuing to rock the frame, causing bursts of heat.
Warrick grabbed his cell phone and called dispatch, requesting a fire truck be sent out to their location to battle a vehicle fire. He gave them the co-ordinates. He increased the excelleration of the SUV, driving dangerously fast. If there were any stray debris on the road, and they hit it, they could blow a tire and loose control of the vehicle.
After what seemed like hours, but was actually less than a minute, they came to a screeching hault at the inferno. Everyone, including Gil and Catherine, as well as Brass and Sophia, jumped out of their cars, racing towards the fire. More black and white units were hot on their tails.
"SARA?!" Nick called, getting dangerously close to the flames. The hair on his arms started to sear from the heat. "SARA?!"
Most of the people stood back, inspecting the the fire, trying to see through the flames. If there were any bodies, they weren't visible. There was no way someone could survive that.
"MOM!" Lindsay was running out of the brush as fast as she could, but the noise of the police sirens, and the sounds of the cackling inferno that had ripped through the truck proved to be too much. She'd been sobbing in dispair since the car had sped away. Not knowing what to do or where to go, she's remained in the bushes, staying hidden incase the crazy guy came back. "MOM!" she yelled again.
Catherine whipped around, and was shocked to see her daughter running towards them, covered in dirt from the brush.
"What? How? Lindsay?!"
"He's . . . got . . . her," she choked out . . . "in . . . the . . . trunk . . . of . . . my . . . car."
"She's alive?" Nick asked, whirling around to meet Catherine's distraught daughter.
"What happened, Lindsay?" Warrick questiong the girl, whose breathing was starting to return to normal.
"I was coming home from looking at colleges because I heard about Sara being taken," she looked at her mother who nodded her head, "and I saw this explosion. It came out of no where. It was just black and then everything was lit up. When I got closer, I saw a man and a woman in the ditch. I thought they were hurt, so I jumped out of my car to help them. Then I saw Sara. She was pretty banged up, and her clothes were ripped . . . . She was looking at me like I needed to stay quiet and not mention her name. Like she didn't want him to know that we knew each other. I think she was believed he was going to kill me. Then he pulled out a knife and started talking about how he had two of us . . . she kicked him or something and yelled at me to run, so I did. I went and hid in the bushes," she pointed to the brush that she'd just come out of, tugging on the dirty hem of her shirt. The tears started to fall again, "I watched him . . . "
"Watched him what, Linds?" Grissom asked gently, closing his eyes tightly, trying to rid himself of the images that threatened to take over.
"She couldn't even fight back," she said through her tears. "I think she hurt her arm, but besides that, he was hitting her so quickly, one after another . . . and then he pushed her in the trunk and closed it. He looked back where I had run off to, and then he got in the car and drove away." She pointed in the direction they had sped off in. "It all happened so fast."
"How long ago?" Nick asked quickly, looking in the direction she was pointing.
"Fifteen minutes, I think . . . "
Nick bolted back to the still running Denali, jumping in the front seat. Warrick took off behind him, jumping in the passenger side. He grabbed onto the handle of the door and held on for dear life as Nick immediately punched the pedal to the floor, tires smoking as they took off like a bullet from a gun.
"Go!" Catherine yelled at Grissom and Greg. Sophia and Brass had already taken off in the Charger.
"I want to go with," Lindsay said firmly. Catherine was about to protest, but Lindsay held up her hand. "I'm an adult, Mom. I have to see that she's OK. Please."
"Fine," she said, exasperated, knowing there was no time waste. "Jump in the back!" She jumped in behind Greg, while Lindsay jumped in behind Grissom.
The girl gasped, getting everyones attention. "MY CELL PHONE!" Her hands flew up to her mouth. "It's in my car. I dropped it under the drivers seat and couldn't get it out."
"The GPS," Catherine whispered, rolling her eyes, uncertain as to how she hadn't remembered before.
"I'll call it in," Greg said, reaching for the radio to call dispatch for the information.
"Woah, wait," Catherine said . . . "Weren't you driving the Tangiers courtesy car?"
Lindsay nodded.
"Grissom, there's an anti theft mechanism in the motor."
"I didn't realize that Sam had equipt those cars."
"Not all of them," she shook her head, "but the point is, we can have them activate it and he won't have a getaway vehicle."
"But is that a good idea? Who knows how far they've gotten. If they have enough miles between us, he can get her out of the trunk and they can disappear into the night pretty quick . . . at least with the GPS, we can track them. What if we cut the engine and he car jacks someone who doesn't have that?"
Catherine ran a shaky hand through her hair . . . "What're the chances? No one is even out here!" she surveyed the desolate highway and the surrounding areas. The only people out there were looking for Sara . . . and it was dark as far as the eye could see.
"I guess we cut the engine, then," Grissom sighed, praying that that was the right decision.
CSICSICSICSICSICSI
"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!" Kevin screamed as the engine made a grinding noise and then stopped dead. He tried the hood release, but it seemed to be stuck. "GOD FUCKING DAMMIT!" he kicked the car violently. The frame shook and he heard whimpering coming from the trunk. It was a noise that only served to anger him further.
He walked to the back of the car, hearing some slight noises from inside, and popped the button to release the trunk. What he didn't expect was for the medal to recoil back as Sara jumped out at him, with a tire iron in her hand as she swung violently at him, ignoring the searing pain that shot through her arm any time she moved it.
The iron, which she'd found in the trunk of the car, pushed to the back of the trunk, struck his side and he immediately dropped the knife that was in his hand. It hit the pavement, clattering and echoing in the silence that surrounded them.
He groaned in pain, cursing he fell to the ground with a thump. His eyes went wide as he saw Sara struggling to get out of the trunk on her feet, iron still clutched tightly in her fists. Winded, he stood up, and took a few tentative steps towards her, wabbling slightly.
"You little bitch! You're going to pay!" he declared, lunging for her.
Sara screamed not only in terror, and pain, but surprise as well as she swung again, on instinct. "You think I'm going down without a fight?" When he didn't answer, she swung again, rage taking over her whole body. "You're a bastard!" She pulled back after the second swing, and took a step back from him. He wasn't worth murder. She looked down and saw the knife laying at her feet. Carefully, she bent over to pick it up. Once she had the small, sharp object in her grasp, she flung it as far away from them as she could, but the searing pain shot through her whole body and she cried out in agony.
"AHH!" he suddenly charged her and she landed on the pavement once again, him straddling her and fighting her for control of tire iron.
One of his hands left the tire iron and started to apply pressure to her injured arm, which caused her grip to faulter, giving him an edge, but she was quick. She ignore the pain, heat radiating up and down the length of it, and retained her grasp, not allowing him to have control.
"You'll never win," he said, his face turning red with anger and excertion.
She moved her leg from beneath him, ignoring her bodys screams to stop. Her knee, which was now free from under him, socked him in the side, causing him to faulter. Grabbing the iron with all her strength, she yanked it from his hands, and swinging as he fell to the pavement beside her, taking every opportunity that presented itself to incapacitate him.
She scrambled to her feet and stood over him, preparing to hit if he tried to stand up.
"YOU THINK YOU'RE SO BIG AND TOUGH?! HUH?!" She yelled. "I CAN'T HEAR YOU!" She kicked him. "Oh, so now that you don't have anything to threaten me with, and I have the power, you go quiet? Some big tough man you are!"
Kevin tried to sit up using both his hands as leverage, but Sara didn't want him moving, so she hit him with the iron on the shoulder. Immediately, one arm came up to grip the tender shoulder and he lost his balance, falling back down to the pavement with a grunt.
Sara could hear sirens wailing in the background, getting steadily closer.
"It's over," she said, finally allowing herself to feel relief. Relief that she had control of the situation. That he wouldn't make her a victim again. At least, not in the way that he'd wanted . . . she was not going to die. Not here. Not like this. Fatigue started to set in as she struggled to remain standing. The injuries that she'd sustained, coupled with being ill were just making her tired. A single tear slipped down her face.
CSICSICSICSICSICSI
"Oh, Thank God!" Nick said, seeing Sara's form in the distance. He was still leading the way, most of the others behind him. Some of the uniforms had stayed at the Gas N' Go collecting evidence, while a few had stayed with the burning wreckage of the truck.
Brass, who was in the Charger trailing behind Nick's Denali, spoke into the speaker phone as the whir of the sirens cut through the silence of the night air. "LVPD! DO NOT MOVE!"
Once again, the Denali left tire marks as the SUV skid to a stop. Nick and Warrick both jumped out and went straight for Sara.
He reached out to gently touch her, so not to scare her. She turned slowly, grimacing at the pain still coursing through her body. Her eyes met his. And he finally got his first good look at her.
"Oh, God," Nick wanted to vomit. The bruises that lined Sara's face, the cuts on her skin and the way she held her arm tightly to her body told a silent story as to how she'd been brutilized. The clothes she wore left him wonder just how far he'd gotten in his quest to 'finish what he'd started.'
"Looky here," Kevin spat, glaring up at Nick, "you're Knight In Shining Armor is here."
"Shut up," Sara flinched, turning her gaze from Nick's warm brown eyes, to the dead orbs of the man on the ground. "You're a piece of dirt."
"Looks like you got in some nice shots," Warrick said, giving the man they all hated a once over. He gently took hold of a part of the bar that Sara still held in her hand, but she tightened her grip and tried to jerk it away from Warrick. "Hey, hey, it's OK," he said and she finally looked at him, recognizing that she didn't have to be concerned about why Warrick wanted the bar. Nick was there. He was there. They were all there. She was safe.
"You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law," Sophia started to read him his miranda rights as Brass yanked him up, off the ground, slapping the cuffs on him.
He focused on Sara, and the rest of his world disappeared. "You're never going to be rid of me. I'll be everywhere you are. Haunting you."
Nick stepped forward in a protective manner, but Sara's hand grabbed his arm, silently begging him to stop.
"Candy ass," he spat at Nick. "Do everything the little girlfriend tells you too?"
"A real man would never do anything to make a woman uncomfortable," he said, taking a step back, wanting to take Sara in his arms and take all the pain away.
"A real man would know when a woman is asking for the man to take charge, so that's what I did," he answered. "I took charge, and boy, that beauty . . . and that body . . . you'd think she'd do more than just lie there, and -" he stopped talking when a sharp jab to his nose sent his head flying back.
"If you ever say anything like that ever again, I will kill you," he hissed.
Kevin's eyes met Nick's, but he spoke with authority to Brass. "I want to press charges. Police brutality."
Brass glanced at Sophia, both obviously in silent agreement with the other. "I didn't see anything. As far as I'm concerned, you're injuries are because Sara had to protect herself."
Brass and Sophia nodded their heads sympathetically at Sara as they led Kevin to one of the waiting officers.
"How're you doing?" Warrick was the first to break the silence.
"Lindsay. Did you find her?" she asked. "We have to find Lindsay!" She was starting to get hysterical.
"I'm right here," Lindsay said as she, Catherine, Greg and Grissom approached them. No one really knew what to say. Each wanted to reach out and hold her, but given what had just happened, physical contact probably wasn't the best idea -- one, to preserve the evidence, and the second, even more so, it might be too much . . . if he'd raped her . . . a lot of victims just didn't want anyone touching them, even if they knew the other person wasn't posing a threat.
"Oh, Thank God," she saw the young woman who was becoming more and more like Catherine everyday. Her legs started to tremble as she had difficulty keeping herself standing.
Nick's arm instinctively went around her waist, preventing her from falling. "Sara . . . did he . . . did he . . ." he couldn't bring himself to say the word. He didn't want too, anyway, but the words just wouldn't form . . . "Did he hurt you?" he decided on. They had to know.
Sara looked up at Nick, fear in her eyes. There was the time between his grabbing her in the apartment, and her waking up in the truck that was a complete blank . . . and she didn't know how long she'd blacked out after the truck had flipped in the ditch . . . "I . . . I don't know," and with that, her body went limp, and Nick's strong arms kept her unconcious form from hitting the ground . . .
TBC . . .
"Oh, God," Greg gasped, eyes wide. "What is that?"
"It's a truck!" Nick felt his heart leap into his throat as he watched the blaze. The truck was fully engulfed, small explosions still continuing to rock the frame, causing bursts of heat.
Warrick grabbed his cell phone and called dispatch, requesting a fire truck be sent out to their location to battle a vehicle fire. He gave them the co-ordinates. He increased the excelleration of the SUV, driving dangerously fast. If there were any stray debris on the road, and they hit it, they could blow a tire and loose control of the vehicle.
After what seemed like hours, but was actually less than a minute, they came to a screeching hault at the inferno. Everyone, including Gil and Catherine, as well as Brass and Sophia, jumped out of their cars, racing towards the fire. More black and white units were hot on their tails.
"SARA?!" Nick called, getting dangerously close to the flames. The hair on his arms started to sear from the heat. "SARA?!"
Most of the people stood back, inspecting the the fire, trying to see through the flames. If there were any bodies, they weren't visible. There was no way someone could survive that.
"MOM!" Lindsay was running out of the brush as fast as she could, but the noise of the police sirens, and the sounds of the cackling inferno that had ripped through the truck proved to be too much. She'd been sobbing in dispair since the car had sped away. Not knowing what to do or where to go, she's remained in the bushes, staying hidden incase the crazy guy came back. "MOM!" she yelled again.
Catherine whipped around, and was shocked to see her daughter running towards them, covered in dirt from the brush.
"What? How? Lindsay?!"
"He's . . . got . . . her," she choked out . . . "in . . . the . . . trunk . . . of . . . my . . . car."
"She's alive?" Nick asked, whirling around to meet Catherine's distraught daughter.
"What happened, Lindsay?" Warrick questiong the girl, whose breathing was starting to return to normal.
"I was coming home from looking at colleges because I heard about Sara being taken," she looked at her mother who nodded her head, "and I saw this explosion. It came out of no where. It was just black and then everything was lit up. When I got closer, I saw a man and a woman in the ditch. I thought they were hurt, so I jumped out of my car to help them. Then I saw Sara. She was pretty banged up, and her clothes were ripped . . . . She was looking at me like I needed to stay quiet and not mention her name. Like she didn't want him to know that we knew each other. I think she was believed he was going to kill me. Then he pulled out a knife and started talking about how he had two of us . . . she kicked him or something and yelled at me to run, so I did. I went and hid in the bushes," she pointed to the brush that she'd just come out of, tugging on the dirty hem of her shirt. The tears started to fall again, "I watched him . . . "
"Watched him what, Linds?" Grissom asked gently, closing his eyes tightly, trying to rid himself of the images that threatened to take over.
"She couldn't even fight back," she said through her tears. "I think she hurt her arm, but besides that, he was hitting her so quickly, one after another . . . and then he pushed her in the trunk and closed it. He looked back where I had run off to, and then he got in the car and drove away." She pointed in the direction they had sped off in. "It all happened so fast."
"How long ago?" Nick asked quickly, looking in the direction she was pointing.
"Fifteen minutes, I think . . . "
Nick bolted back to the still running Denali, jumping in the front seat. Warrick took off behind him, jumping in the passenger side. He grabbed onto the handle of the door and held on for dear life as Nick immediately punched the pedal to the floor, tires smoking as they took off like a bullet from a gun.
"Go!" Catherine yelled at Grissom and Greg. Sophia and Brass had already taken off in the Charger.
"I want to go with," Lindsay said firmly. Catherine was about to protest, but Lindsay held up her hand. "I'm an adult, Mom. I have to see that she's OK. Please."
"Fine," she said, exasperated, knowing there was no time waste. "Jump in the back!" She jumped in behind Greg, while Lindsay jumped in behind Grissom.
The girl gasped, getting everyones attention. "MY CELL PHONE!" Her hands flew up to her mouth. "It's in my car. I dropped it under the drivers seat and couldn't get it out."
"The GPS," Catherine whispered, rolling her eyes, uncertain as to how she hadn't remembered before.
"I'll call it in," Greg said, reaching for the radio to call dispatch for the information.
"Woah, wait," Catherine said . . . "Weren't you driving the Tangiers courtesy car?"
Lindsay nodded.
"Grissom, there's an anti theft mechanism in the motor."
"I didn't realize that Sam had equipt those cars."
"Not all of them," she shook her head, "but the point is, we can have them activate it and he won't have a getaway vehicle."
"But is that a good idea? Who knows how far they've gotten. If they have enough miles between us, he can get her out of the trunk and they can disappear into the night pretty quick . . . at least with the GPS, we can track them. What if we cut the engine and he car jacks someone who doesn't have that?"
Catherine ran a shaky hand through her hair . . . "What're the chances? No one is even out here!" she surveyed the desolate highway and the surrounding areas. The only people out there were looking for Sara . . . and it was dark as far as the eye could see.
"I guess we cut the engine, then," Grissom sighed, praying that that was the right decision.
CSICSICSICSICSICSI
"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!" Kevin screamed as the engine made a grinding noise and then stopped dead. He tried the hood release, but it seemed to be stuck. "GOD FUCKING DAMMIT!" he kicked the car violently. The frame shook and he heard whimpering coming from the trunk. It was a noise that only served to anger him further.
He walked to the back of the car, hearing some slight noises from inside, and popped the button to release the trunk. What he didn't expect was for the medal to recoil back as Sara jumped out at him, with a tire iron in her hand as she swung violently at him, ignoring the searing pain that shot through her arm any time she moved it.
The iron, which she'd found in the trunk of the car, pushed to the back of the trunk, struck his side and he immediately dropped the knife that was in his hand. It hit the pavement, clattering and echoing in the silence that surrounded them.
He groaned in pain, cursing he fell to the ground with a thump. His eyes went wide as he saw Sara struggling to get out of the trunk on her feet, iron still clutched tightly in her fists. Winded, he stood up, and took a few tentative steps towards her, wabbling slightly.
"You little bitch! You're going to pay!" he declared, lunging for her.
Sara screamed not only in terror, and pain, but surprise as well as she swung again, on instinct. "You think I'm going down without a fight?" When he didn't answer, she swung again, rage taking over her whole body. "You're a bastard!" She pulled back after the second swing, and took a step back from him. He wasn't worth murder. She looked down and saw the knife laying at her feet. Carefully, she bent over to pick it up. Once she had the small, sharp object in her grasp, she flung it as far away from them as she could, but the searing pain shot through her whole body and she cried out in agony.
"AHH!" he suddenly charged her and she landed on the pavement once again, him straddling her and fighting her for control of tire iron.
One of his hands left the tire iron and started to apply pressure to her injured arm, which caused her grip to faulter, giving him an edge, but she was quick. She ignore the pain, heat radiating up and down the length of it, and retained her grasp, not allowing him to have control.
"You'll never win," he said, his face turning red with anger and excertion.
She moved her leg from beneath him, ignoring her bodys screams to stop. Her knee, which was now free from under him, socked him in the side, causing him to faulter. Grabbing the iron with all her strength, she yanked it from his hands, and swinging as he fell to the pavement beside her, taking every opportunity that presented itself to incapacitate him.
She scrambled to her feet and stood over him, preparing to hit if he tried to stand up.
"YOU THINK YOU'RE SO BIG AND TOUGH?! HUH?!" She yelled. "I CAN'T HEAR YOU!" She kicked him. "Oh, so now that you don't have anything to threaten me with, and I have the power, you go quiet? Some big tough man you are!"
Kevin tried to sit up using both his hands as leverage, but Sara didn't want him moving, so she hit him with the iron on the shoulder. Immediately, one arm came up to grip the tender shoulder and he lost his balance, falling back down to the pavement with a grunt.
Sara could hear sirens wailing in the background, getting steadily closer.
"It's over," she said, finally allowing herself to feel relief. Relief that she had control of the situation. That he wouldn't make her a victim again. At least, not in the way that he'd wanted . . . she was not going to die. Not here. Not like this. Fatigue started to set in as she struggled to remain standing. The injuries that she'd sustained, coupled with being ill were just making her tired. A single tear slipped down her face.
CSICSICSICSICSICSI
"Oh, Thank God!" Nick said, seeing Sara's form in the distance. He was still leading the way, most of the others behind him. Some of the uniforms had stayed at the Gas N' Go collecting evidence, while a few had stayed with the burning wreckage of the truck.
Brass, who was in the Charger trailing behind Nick's Denali, spoke into the speaker phone as the whir of the sirens cut through the silence of the night air. "LVPD! DO NOT MOVE!"
Once again, the Denali left tire marks as the SUV skid to a stop. Nick and Warrick both jumped out and went straight for Sara.
He reached out to gently touch her, so not to scare her. She turned slowly, grimacing at the pain still coursing through her body. Her eyes met his. And he finally got his first good look at her.
"Oh, God," Nick wanted to vomit. The bruises that lined Sara's face, the cuts on her skin and the way she held her arm tightly to her body told a silent story as to how she'd been brutilized. The clothes she wore left him wonder just how far he'd gotten in his quest to 'finish what he'd started.'
"Looky here," Kevin spat, glaring up at Nick, "you're Knight In Shining Armor is here."
"Shut up," Sara flinched, turning her gaze from Nick's warm brown eyes, to the dead orbs of the man on the ground. "You're a piece of dirt."
"Looks like you got in some nice shots," Warrick said, giving the man they all hated a once over. He gently took hold of a part of the bar that Sara still held in her hand, but she tightened her grip and tried to jerk it away from Warrick. "Hey, hey, it's OK," he said and she finally looked at him, recognizing that she didn't have to be concerned about why Warrick wanted the bar. Nick was there. He was there. They were all there. She was safe.
"You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law," Sophia started to read him his miranda rights as Brass yanked him up, off the ground, slapping the cuffs on him.
He focused on Sara, and the rest of his world disappeared. "You're never going to be rid of me. I'll be everywhere you are. Haunting you."
Nick stepped forward in a protective manner, but Sara's hand grabbed his arm, silently begging him to stop.
"Candy ass," he spat at Nick. "Do everything the little girlfriend tells you too?"
"A real man would never do anything to make a woman uncomfortable," he said, taking a step back, wanting to take Sara in his arms and take all the pain away.
"A real man would know when a woman is asking for the man to take charge, so that's what I did," he answered. "I took charge, and boy, that beauty . . . and that body . . . you'd think she'd do more than just lie there, and -" he stopped talking when a sharp jab to his nose sent his head flying back.
"If you ever say anything like that ever again, I will kill you," he hissed.
Kevin's eyes met Nick's, but he spoke with authority to Brass. "I want to press charges. Police brutality."
Brass glanced at Sophia, both obviously in silent agreement with the other. "I didn't see anything. As far as I'm concerned, you're injuries are because Sara had to protect herself."
Brass and Sophia nodded their heads sympathetically at Sara as they led Kevin to one of the waiting officers.
"How're you doing?" Warrick was the first to break the silence.
"Lindsay. Did you find her?" she asked. "We have to find Lindsay!" She was starting to get hysterical.
"I'm right here," Lindsay said as she, Catherine, Greg and Grissom approached them. No one really knew what to say. Each wanted to reach out and hold her, but given what had just happened, physical contact probably wasn't the best idea -- one, to preserve the evidence, and the second, even more so, it might be too much . . . if he'd raped her . . . a lot of victims just didn't want anyone touching them, even if they knew the other person wasn't posing a threat.
"Oh, Thank God," she saw the young woman who was becoming more and more like Catherine everyday. Her legs started to tremble as she had difficulty keeping herself standing.
Nick's arm instinctively went around her waist, preventing her from falling. "Sara . . . did he . . . did he . . ." he couldn't bring himself to say the word. He didn't want too, anyway, but the words just wouldn't form . . . "Did he hurt you?" he decided on. They had to know.
Sara looked up at Nick, fear in her eyes. There was the time between his grabbing her in the apartment, and her waking up in the truck that was a complete blank . . . and she didn't know how long she'd blacked out after the truck had flipped in the ditch . . . "I . . . I don't know," and with that, her body went limp, and Nick's strong arms kept her unconcious form from hitting the ground . . .
TBC . . .