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No Turning Back (Alvis Alendran&SHARPii)

She heard them. They were talking, saying things but she couldn’t really place it. It all seemed like a hazy fog, like something in the background, sounding distorted and not clear. She didn’t know or realize. Not even when the needle injected into her and shot something into her. She felt the pressure and it didn’t take long for life to be forced back into her. As if she felt she was suddenly awake and her body was buzzing with life and energy. It felt that way but it didn’t mean she could necessarily gather any strength to do anything. It was just a little kick to wake her up from her daze.

Her head lolled lazily to the side, her eyes closed and she inhaled deeply through her nose before exhaling back out the same way. Her tired, bruised, aching and soiled chest heaved up and then down in the breathing journey. Her throat was dry, her body felt bruised and battered and if someone were to ask her how she felt, she’d probably respond with a throaty, ‘Like a peach.’

She didn’t care what happened to her. She didn’t care if she survived. If they just ended this, she wouldn’t blame them, neither did she blame the lack of patience in his clearly irritated tone. “Why?” She rasped finally after what felt like an incredibly long silence when in actual reality, it was probably only a couple of minutes. “It won’t stop you. You’ll still do it. I’ll never tell. I’ll never sell someone out like that again.” Even if Bree Larkin was already dead when Esther horribly sold her out in a moment of desperation. But then she thought of the people she loved at The Spot. The girls there, even if they didn’t like her, she wouldn’t wish this on them. That was her family since she was in college. They were there for her to help pick up some of the permanently fractured but still in tact pieces that remained of Esther after Chad. She wouldn’t do that to them.

She didn’t want this to get back to Rodolfo either. But she liked to think that Emerson Card could hold his own. But she’d choose death instead of betraying anyone. Maybe that was the trooper in her, the fact she was a Martin. She might have broken easily but she wouldn’t crack. “If I…” She began on a soft sigh, her voice weak, tired but thankfully the words were easy to slide out. It was the adrenaline. “…could choose to go anywhere, I’d want to go back home. Back home to Emerson, New Jersey. I want a baseball card.”
 
Darien put his face in a palm, and then looked at the other guys.
"What do we do with her if she won't tell us?" Dale asked. Darien looked at him, eyebrows raised.
"What do you think? I'm a man of my word. What's the name of that secretary?" Darien replied.
"Uh...Mallory I think."
"Don't think. Know. But get her. We are going to rape her half blind, and fucking skin her alive while this one watches, until we get what we need out of her." Darien snarled, his voice all promise. "Bring the hoist over here. We'll hang this one up for later." He was giving orders like he expected them to be followed. "It's dark enough to do this fast. Don't bother with the truck. How long you think? One hour? Maybe two?"
"One, tops." Dale grabbed a few of the guys, and set out to get it done. They were heading for the car, but hadn't reached it yet. Darien dialled a phone.

Harrison lifted the phone in annoyance.
"What is it?" He demanded. He knew that the phone had a scrambler on it, one that made it impossible to identifiy someone by voice, adn he was always glad of that.
"Situation. The girl doesn't have it, adn won't give it up. We need a lever." Darien said calmly. harrison sighed. He looked outside. mallory was just getting ready to call it a night, having stayed late in the office to make sure that Harrison wouldn't need something.
"What do you propose?"
"Her friend? The secretary?"
"Do it. She'll be leaving this building in about twelve minutes. Can you make it?"
"Easily!" Harrison hung up, adn dropped the phone, eyes closed. Esther wasn't co-operating. Hardly surprising. She was a stubborn creature. But now it was out of his hands. He needed that file, and he needed it now.

Darien looked at Esther as the hoist for the warehouse was coming over. They would litterally hang her up for a while.
"Last chance to save your friend. If we get the file, we don't need any of your friends. All we want is that file."
 
She took in a deep breath once more through her nose and exhaled softly. It felt like things were spinning and when she would open her eyes, it was painful. It was easier to keep them closed but she was dizzy, the world was spinning and nothing was making sense. Her hair was plastered over the concrete in a disheveled mess, her body was marred, soiled, violated to the worst extreme—9 men—and it felt like someone shrunk her and then the world, placed her atop of it after fitting it in a globe spinner thing and then kept spinning her. It would never stop. It felt like it wouldn’t.

They came back. Well one did after a while. She thought it was a nightmare and she was back in her comfortable bed. But no, she was still there and this time she listened. Her heart constricted. Mallory? Why Mallory? Why would they bring her into this? Maybe Harrison would stop her? Esther had to stop thinking and hoping. She had to just admit it to herself finally. Harrison was involved. He was involved. He was the reason and he…

“You have to be stupid.” She rasped so quietly, he probably would have to crouch down just to hear her. Her eyes stayed closed and she gave in. Too many people she loved. Too many people who shouldn’t have to go through this. She didn’t know Emerson. But she had to do something. She got involved. She didn’t blame Abby. But she wouldn’t continue the curse. “I lived in New Jersey. I was born there. I hate baseball. Get a clue and think with your head up there.” Somehow she managed to bite it out but it was still weak sounding. “Emerson Card. I gave you your answer. I told you. I did. It’s not my fault you’re stupid.” She whispered. Her head lolled to her shoulder again and her breathing came short, slow and calm. She drifted.
 
Darien frowned. He didn't get it at all, but he didn't have to. He snapped his fingers, and waved the guys away from the car. He lifted the phone, and made another call.
"Sir?" He said calmly. Harrison was getting annoyed now, mroe than usual.
"What is it?" He demanded.
"Emerson Card. Mean anything to you?"
"A PI. I'll take it from here. Have your boys stand down. This is in capable hands now." He hung up on Darien, and dialled another number. "Ramilies. Put out the APB. Bring her in. And find a PI named Emerson Card. Accomplice, or possibly the mastermind behind all she's done. And do it soon." He ordered. he hung up, and leaned back in the chair. It was bad now, but...just maybe there might be a way to salvage this thing. He only hoped that Dairne understood the full meaning of 'stand down.'

Teh crew was dressed, and one of them seemed to be getting ready. Rubber apron, face shield. Teh tohers piled into their cars, and drove away, leaving Esther alone with him. He advanced on her slowly. The belts were off of her, but they'd left a rope around one of her wrists, keeping her bound. It would take to undo the strange, potent knot on her binding.
"I'm Pierre. And I can let this end for you." He told her as he advanced. "Is that something you you want?" He asked her gently. This was what he did. Kept things clean for others.
 
Her eyes stayed closed and she was still awake but she felt herself slipping further away. Not away from life but just from a stream of consciousness, that’s all. Her body lay limp on the ground and she didn’t feel it when they took the belts away but her wrist did throb. She could feel a pulse vibrating there like when you put pressure on a wound. It felt just like that. Still, she didn’t move. She couldn’t. It felt like she’d keel over if she did and she was already lying down. Was it over? Would they let her go? Could she go home now?

The sound of voices fading away from her registered and then there was one lone voice. He loomed closer towards her and she felt her heart kick into high gear again, beating hard, racing really. He was right there and she heard what he said. He was offering her an out, an easy way out but no. She wasn’t done. If anything, she might have died inside, but the story was far from finishing right now. Another story must begin. One where she got her revenge. Her dreams and hopes dashed, forever crumbled and she was left seeking a new dream. A new dream where one individual would surely pay. One where she didn’t care what happened to herself. But one that wouldn’t end until her own version of justice was sought.

Her head shook lightly and she managed to crack her eyes open to squint, her vision a little blurry around the man who called himself Pierre. “No.” She whispered, the very movement of shaking her head causing her head to throb worse. “I don’t want to die.” She spoke so softly, her voice so small and laced with unshed tears, as if she had more to shed. “I want to go home. I want to sleep a little bit. But I don’t want to die.” Her voice broke as Esther choked back a sob. “P-Please…”
 
Piere gave a small, sad smile.
"Oh, poor thing. Weary, and in such pain. You must be released, else you will never know peace again. And I will held you." He told her, the razor appearing to cut the rope at her wrist. His hand went to the side of her head, brushing her hair slightly. "Sleep child. It'll all be over soon." Sitting on the ground, not ten inches from her hand was the sall, handheld saw that he would likely use to carve her into pieces. It wasn't much of a weapon against the living, but it was good enough in a pinch, if one was determined.

Harrison heard the door open.
"Harry? What are you still doing here?" Lloyd asked. Harrison had set aside his suit jacket, adn was still looking out the window. So many hours spent like that today. but he needed the time. Even if he didn't have it.
"Piecing things out Lloyd." He answered quietly.
"Harry, what's going on?"
"Lloyd I've...made some choice that I shouldn't have."
"Hey, we all do that. Bad ones? Irrevocable?"
"I think so."
"Eegh. That's rough for anyone. Harry. Did you end things with Esther?"
"In a way. Yeah, I think so." Harrison heard the sigh behind him.
"Well, for all the ribbing I gave you, I think ending it was a bad move Harry."
"I know. Lloyd, I am not...a good man. Not really. But I thought I might be able to be one. Or at least fake it. But I...had a moment of threat to me. And I reacted. And now I think she's lost to me."
"Harry...I knew at a glance she was crazy about you. I think...you ought to fix whatever is wrong in your head. And do it soon. Tonight even. And then...well, then you should find her. Fix this."
"It can't be fixed Lloyd."
"Never know until you try it out Harry. Just roll it over a bit." Lloyd left the office, leaving Harrison to his thoughts.
 
Her eyes closed and her face flashed a look of anguish and pain. She was going to cry. She finally felt her wrist free and her arms moved slowly until they were at her sides, aching from being up above her head on the ground for so long, but even in more pain probably from some slight sprain in both wrists. Nothing broken, thankfully but just a world of pain She was in a painful world of pain, worse than a house of pain. Her head turned, effectively in the opposite direction from the man who was talking to her and she sniffled, tears slipping out the corners of her shut eyes, rolling down her cheeks or side of them. “I just want to go home. Please. I’ll do anything. Just…let me go home.” She was begging now, her voice filled with the sob but still coherent to understand. She should probably go to a hospital if anything but no, she wanted her bed. The one place that would be filled with an ounce of comfort, at the most.
 
"Ach, mon petite, you can go home soon. I will-" Pierre never finished his statement, his head snapping to the side as something cracshed into it. The sound of the shot came a split second later, deafeningly loud, And the sound of steps appraoching Esther followed the echoes. It was only a moment before a heavy, soft, but warm coat was laid across Esther. It wasn't much, but it was a covering.
"Real big man when the Bim's all worked over like that. Fucker." Emerson Card said acidly to the dead man, before he crouched beside Esther. "Hey. Esther. You still with me here?" He asked her, gently resting a hand on her shoulder.

Calls were being made, adn plans were going into motion. Harrison was going to find his file, and with it, he hoped, Esther. Something had to be done, and soon. He had people on the move, and he knew that she'd turn up sooner or later. He only hoped it was soon enough.
 
His voice was gone and she sighed heavily. She didn’t even flinch, the loud gun shot sound didn’t even resonate within her. Nothing resonated with her. She just wanted to feel the bed underneath her back, buckets of ice keeping the swelling of her wrists down and to go home. She wanted to go home. She wanted to be in the last place with an ounce of comfort. Then she heard a soft voice. A tremor of fear coursed through her, thinking it was Harrison. But then her eyes opened and she saw it wasn’t him. It was Emerson Card. He was okay. Even if she did betray him. “Mm…” She closed her eyes and breathed deeply through her nose before exhaling the same way. “Can I go home?” She whispered. “Please?”
 
Emerson contemplated telling her now that she was in all kinds of trouble she didn't yet know, but he decided that she might not really be in the best state to process it. He bent down, and gathered her up in his arms. She wasn't very heavy, and his coat went to her feet. She was covered wel when he carried her out of the warehouse. He lay her in the backseat of his car, adn pat her head in a reassuring manner.
"We'll get you safe Esther. Get you cleaned up, and let you sleep." He promised her, closing the door carefully, before getting in the drivers seat. Damn it all, he'd been to late.

The drive was not a terribly long one. Emerson had been smart about things, and laid out some safe places to hole up. On the edge of town here there was a small house, but it had hot water and a shower, and right now he thought that Esthe rmight need that mroe than anything else. He pulled into the garage, adn closed the dor, before shutting down the car, adn getting Esther out, carrying her again.
"Still with me there miss?" He asked her carrying her inside. He set her on the couch, a thick, comfortable things that looked like it had seen a lot of use. He sat on a chair, and waited for her to either come to, or fall asleep.
 
Esther didn’t make much of any sound at all when he lifted her. Her hands were in her lap, she couldn’t move them. Her head rest on his shoulder and her eyes stayed closed. The world was still spinning for her. Not in a good way either. She fell asleep in the car, not even realizing when it stopped and he brought her inside. When he lay her down, she felt comfortable feelings all around her and she started to come to instead of falling into a deeper sleep. When her eyes opened, it was less dizzy and she could actually keep her eyes opened but her body ached and she couldn’t move, wouldn’t dare to.

She looked at Emerson, remembering it was him and she turned slightly onto her side, adjusting the long coat over her to keep her covered modestly and she looked at him. “Where am I?” She cast small gazes around the place and didn’t recognize it. “This isn’t my apartment.” Though this was probably safer, not her apartment. Considering she was taken from there but because she stupidly opened the door but considering what those men did, she doubted that would have stopped them if she hadn’t opened it.
 
Ermerson shook his head.
"Sorry, but I couldn't take you back there. They're watching it. Waiting for you. Your place isn't safe. You're on the edge of town. Little hidey-hole I set up a long time ago. We should be safe enough for now. But not forever." He hesitated, honestly not sure how to proceed. He could follow a case easily, find out who was behind things, but when it came to a traumatized young woman...he was out to sea. "Did you...want anything? Food? Sleep? A shower? I'm sorry miss, I'm really not sure what I can do for ya right now."

"One victim, bullet to the side of the head. Looks like a longer ranged shot, but it was a big bore. Poor guy was dead before he hit the ground." The forensics man said calmly. The detective looking at the scene wasn't sure if the 'poor guy' was really the proper victim here.
"Any other signs?"
"Footprints everywhere, but in a place like this, that means nothing. We're still looking for prints, and fibers. Found a bag set aside, had some cut up clothing in it. Something nasty went down here."
"My thoughts as well. Get everything you can. But do it fast." The detective walked away from the scene. This was supposed to be Ramilies case, it was in his area after all, but he was off doing Gods only knew what, and that left it in other hands. Hands that wanted to get to the bottom of this.
 
“Oh.” She spoke softly, her voice as small as ever and her head rest back against the soft cushion of the couch she was on. She tried to move her hands but whimpered and her eyes closed. “They hurt my wrists.” She didn’t say anything more, didn’t answer much of his questions. She just wanted to rest and get back to whatever she could when the time was right, when she was healed enough to put herself back out there enough. This wasn’t the end. She just didn’t know when to give up. This was personal and she knew who was behind it and it broke her and her heart to know this. She just knew. It was too much of a coincidence. And she wouldn’t be in denial any longer. She couldn’t do that to herself. Those guys fucked enough sense into her to see. Literally too.

“I can’t move Mr. Card.” She whispered. “I’m sorry, I sold you out.” She began, her voice breaking. “Mm, but they kept threatening everyone I loved. They were going to bring Mallory and hurt her. I-I’m sorry. I told them it was you.” She sniffled and wiped her eye into the pillow since she couldn’t do anything with her hands.
 
Hurt. She was hurt. Now that was a problem he could deal with! He stood,adn went into the kitchen, not realizing that leaving after she confessed to having sold him out []might[/i] not send the right message to her. But he opened the freezer, adn got out a few packs of ice. He also brought out a few towels, to make sure that he didn't hurt her skin with direct contact. When he emerged into teh room again, he caught up with what all he had done.
"Uh, sorry. Yeah, here, these are for your hands." He crouched beside her, adn began to wrap her wrists in the cold packs. "T'aint much, but it might help keep the swelling down, give you some use out of 'em." he explained. He sighed, adn picked his next few words carefully. It did explain why the bulls were on parade looking for him. But what they'd done to her... he couldn't blame her.

"You did what you had to there. What was happenin'? You did what had to happen. And I'm a big boy you know." Emerson puffed up his chest a little emphasizing that he was in fact, as big as he claimed. "I can take care of myself. So don't you worry none about it now. You just worry about you. And get yourself better now."
 
Oh. He was mad at her. He was really mad at her. She didn’t get it that he went to get something for her wrists. She was in the middle of admitting her sin, though her biggest sin was having every thought badly or of ill will towards another human being, even if that woman was already dead before Esther knew. Still. It was a shame for her to do that. She disgraced the Martin name for it. Sighing heavily, she slumped back into the couch and closed her eyes. Next thing she knew, someone was around her again and her eyes shot open. It was just Emerson. She saw the ice and when he wrapped them around her wrists, she winced but the ice cold feeling felt like heaven. Her wrists felt like they had been on fire.

“Oh.” Was what she said. Okay, he wasn’t mad. He proved that to her by how proudly he puffed his chest up and she managed the lamest smile in the world because it wasn’t even a smile. It was a lame attempt at one. She had nothing to smile about. Granted, she was glad he was okay because he was pretty damn cool. The coolest PI she ever met. But she didn’t want anything to happen to him. It had been a dilemma. A big and really painful dilemma. She had to figure out her next move and fast.

“How did you find me?”
 
Emerson smiled at her as she smiled. It was a weak one, but it was the most human she'd looked since he'd found her. It was a good sign. It had been a long ass day once he'd gotten the idea that something was up with Esther. Setting the files ina secure place, he'd gone back to make sure that she was all right with her choice, only to find her door unlocked.
"Wasn't easy. Called int a few favours, and asked a few questions. Foudn out about the truck that they used, and ran it down. Just took me longer than I'd wanted. Sorry I wasn't there for ya sooner." He said this last quietly. While on some level he knew that he owed Esther very little, it was still a failing on his part that Esther had been subjected to such. A little faster, a little mroe insistant that she be safe, and it would have been fine. But he'd focused on the file, and it had cost Etsher dearly.
 
She nodded slowly. Well, that was nice of him. She just met him today and he seemed to care more than…
Esther looked away from him when her mind drifted to that thought and her eyes closed. That’s what hurt the most. That’s what hurt infinitesimally. She thought he was different. That he was really good. Hell, it was only really after last night when she went to the special lounge and hung out with him and Lloyd that she was really convinced of what an amazing and really great guy Harrison was. Now, it just hurt. That’s what hurt the most. He did this. He willingly and knowingly did this. He knew it was her and he still did this. She wasn’t sure if she could ever get over that pain. It was worst than what Chad did to her. Much worse, by far. She swallowed hard, pushing the thick lump that formed in her throat away and then closed her eyes, blinking them a couple of times in closing so not to let any drops fall. She took in a deep breath and then opened her eyes, having gotten her bearings, at least enough not to be a woman in front of this man. He was probably feeling most uncomfortable already.

She had to push herself. Yes, she was broken. Yet there was always more fight left in a Martin. Otherwise she’d be doing her family a major disappointment if she didn’t push herself. So she did. Using her hands since her wrists were wrapped and effectively numbing, she pushed herself up, bringing her weak right hand up to keep the coat firmly in place over her, not caring if it dropped to expose her shoulders, but nothing further than that. She rest her hands in her lap to keep the coat up and she looked at him, her hair, messy, clumpy and in a hot mess really, falling over her shoulder. “I don’t want to inconvenience you any further Mr. Card. I really appreciate what you’ve done. Thank you for coming for me.” She said softly. If she could move her body to sit up, surely she could walk.

“Might I use your shower?” She asked kindly, swinging her legs over the edge of the couch so her feet touched the nice cool floor. She wrapped the coat around her now, feeling guilty for probably having ruined it but she pushed herself up to her feet. A world of ow kicked into her and her hand came to steady onto the arm rest of the couch she had been lying on and steadied herself. She didn’t make a sound but it was clear by the way her eyes closed and just the overall look of pain on her face, she was fighting. Hard. Somehow, but surely, she was fighting still. She had a point to prove.
 
Card watched with mroe than a little amazement when Esther got herself moving. By rights she should have slept for a month or so, and then looked to getting herself back in gear. But here she was, ready to go. He nodded to her.
"Shower's back through there. Just keep going until you get to the end of the hall." He told her. He let her go, before sighing. He'd need to get some things laid out. When she was out of sight, he went to the bedroom, adn opened the closet. He reluctantly pulled out a few of the clothes there. A t-shirt, and a pair of jeans that would be about her size. It wasn't much, but they were clothes. And she couldn't very well go around wearing his longcoat forever now, could she? He sighed, adn kept rooting around until he found a pair of loose shorts for her so that she she didn't have to wear jeans with nothing else. He folded the clothes, and set them carefully in front of the bathroom door. It was what needed to happen. She needed these more than he needed the memories attached to them.

"No sign of her yet?" Harriosn asked. Ramilies shook his head.
"Not yet, but we've got every available unit looking for her and this Card. We'll find them sir." The officer replied
"Of that I have no doubt. Just make it fast." Ramilies nodded, and left the office. Harriosn leaned forawrd, adn sighed. This was not going as well as he'd hoped. But he needed to find Esther. This whole debacle had to end.
 
She nodded to him. She didn’t go yet though. She just put her hand on his shoulder, frowning a little apologetically with a shimmer of amusement in her eyes because of the ice, and nodded to him. “I owe you. Life debt.” She leaned down and kissed his cheek before she left and went at her own snail pace to the shower. She got there, hung the coat up before she took the ice packs off of her wrists. They were red, limp and then her eyes lifted and glued to her reflection. She looked like hell. Her face, somehow, wasn’t touched. Her lips were swollen from when they were forcibly, roughly and viciously kissed. Her neck was covered in bites, marks, bruises, like she had some serious case of Cheetah or Leopard spots. Her body then…Her chest was bruised, the welts having come up to the underside of them. She had dried semen on her skin and she didn’t bother looking down. She could feel the throbbing pain. But her legs were the ones that took the worst of it all. Thrusts, so many hard thrusts. And it showed on her legs.

Shaking her head, she got into the shower and let herself be taken away under the hot water. She came out thirty minutes later, guilty for taking such a long shower but it was needed considering she could barely use her hands. She stepped out, took a towel and carefully dried her body. She blow dried her hair and then looked at herself in the mirror, barely recognizing herself. She picked up the towel and wrapped her nude frame in it before opening the door, about to step out when she saw clothes. She sighed to herself and picked them up and shut the door, quickly dressing, well as quickly as she could. She never knew how hard it was to button jeans until now when she couldn’t turn her wrist in the slightest to button it. She took a heavy deep breath and then forced herself to turn her wrists, crying a small whimper but she got the button done. She zipped up and then looked at herself in the mirror. No more pitying herself. She had stuff to do. Not much time to do it either. She might as well be on a suicide mission. But isn’t that what this was? She had one more oat to sow and then if that was her last breath, she couldn’t care. She died already. What was the harm in dying for good this time?

Leaving her hair untied, she walked out of the bathroom, a small limp in her step, especially from when she was hit in the back of her knee with the baseball bat. She went to find Emerson but decided against it. Instead, without even finding shoes, but finding a big sweatshirt with a big hood, she left his place. She was barefoot, wearing a sweatshirt, hands tucked into the big pockets and the hood up and she looked like hell, even after her shower and she was hurrying to get into town. Her body was on fire. She was in so much pain but she kept pushing herself. She had places to be, shit to do. First thing’s first.

When it came to that part of town where it was more crowded, easier to get a cab—regardless if it took her a good two or three hours to do it, the cold air was much welcomed to how on fire her body was—she got in and told an address. The firm. Oh yeah, she was walking straight into the lion’s den. Only this time around, Esther Martin was the lion and Harrison Trenton was the baby gazelle.

She didn’t have money to pay a cab with but for some reason, maybe it was the hood or just the blank gaze in her eyes, the driver let her go, so long as she went to this address later, he gave her later. She stood outside the firm building and then brought the card to her vision. A homeless shelter. She snorted, actually snorted and tossed it aside, letting the airy cold breeze lift it away. She took a step forward and then proceeded on, going into the building and going to the floor intended. She rode the elevator to the top. And that was when it all hit her. Her back against the wall, she looked up and her eyes closed. Her body started shaking, trembling and it was sinking in further. Seconds away from seeing the very man she thought she…
Swallowing hard, more like gulping, the doors opened and she walked out, determined, slow yet but with a small limp. She still looked as if she could command a presence. Her feet led her to his office door and she stood before it. She breathing hard through her nose, in and out, her hands were numb at her sides and she couldn’t tell if she was clenching them or not. Her body ached and how she hadn’t passed out yet, she had no idea. How she hadn’t keeled over and broken a hip to add further to her misery, she had no idea. Maybe it was the Martin in her or the determined pathetic sop she was that she couldn’t stay away from the one man she was supposed to, the man who did this to her! She couldn’t knock. She couldn’t grip a handle or a knob. So she did what any other person in her situation might have. She kicked the door. She didn’t kick it down but that was her way of knocking.
 
The door wasn't shut properly. Harrison had not been thinking with his normal clarity of mind. It swung open then, tripping a small sensor. The office was a little dark, but had a few low lights to let a person navigate it. The computer on the desk was still on, and it had a few files on it. One of them looked like a video that was primed to play, but someone had thought better of it. As Esther stepped into the room, there was a faint noise, like a phone ringing.

Harrison looked at the phone beside him. Teh ID display showed that it was an intruder in the office. There were not a lot of people that had any reason to be there, so he lifted the phone, and spoke in his normal, calm, collected, and refined tone.
"Hello? Who is in my office?" He asked calmly. The voice came from the desk phone, already on speaker. It was clear that this was nto the irst time Harrison had needed to do this, but it was the first time he'd ever really been thi anxious about it. Had Esher actually come to the firm? Could he be that fortunate?
 
Esther pushed the door open further and she took a step in, oblivious to the fact it tripped anything. She walked further in and looked around the place. Then she spotted his computer. Instantly, she went to it, took her hood down and pressed a key and it came to life. But she saw the videos and her eyes narrowed. Her hand found the mouse and with much effort than necessarily needed for the mouse, she moved the cursor to press play and her eyes widened as it was all replayed back to her. Their time in the office. She swallowed hard, actual bile rising up in her throat. She covered her mouth and then paused it, going to the next one. The elevator. Dread swam through her and she sunk back in the chair after pausing the offending video. The bastard recorded them? She felt embarrassed, more violated, but most of all, angry. Really, really angry.

She jumped when she heard a phone ringing and peered at it, leaning her face in. Then it stopped and was replaced by a voice, a very amazing voice and one she knew well. For the longest time, after he spoke, Esther stayed tremendously quiet and sat back in the chair. Then she cleared her throat loud enough so he knew someone was still there and she leaned forward again. “Harrison.” But the familiar warmth and emotion that was always ever present had disappeared. No, instead she spoke his name with a foreign coldness, ice cold and a lot of stern. “I like your chair. It’s very comfy.” She sat back and winced a little bit as she crossed a leg over the other, her arms resting on the arm rests of the chair. She rocked a little bit. Childhood habit if a chair could rock even in the slightest.
 
The tone of her voice said ever so much. Oh, they'd found her, adn they'd done every horrible thing imaginable to her. And she was not taking it well. Not that it was unexpected. arrison sighed as he heard her talking about his chair. he did have the moment of surging fury that someone was in his office, taking the time to be in his chair. And it galled him a little. He let that go, and focused on the task at hand.
"Esther. You got away. That's...good. Very good. I..." he trailed off, for one of the first times actually feeling like he was at a loss for words. What does one say after all that had happened? it was somehow fitting. Esther and he had been a whirlwind of passion and lust, and that had fallen apart equally as fast. But what did you do? One thing he knew, was that you didn't do it over the phone like this. "...stay where you are Esther. I'm coming to the office We'll...talk then." He hung up, and stood.

He walked to the bedroom, needing a change of clothes. He walked past the form that was whimpering on his bed, chained to it. He changed calmly, before turning to the form.
"Do be quiet Mallory. The whipers get irritating after a while." He said bluntly. His secretary flinched away from him. She was stripped bare, adn bruised. Harrison had been busy with her for a time until he felt calmer, more centered. It had been a long time since he'd had to get his hadns dirty like this, but there was no point in sending out his crew for something that he needed himself. Strange actually. The last time he'd done something like this had been with his last secretary. There might be something about the job that made him want to visit something horrid on them, though he couldn't place it. Mallory had done nothing to deserve this, he knew that.
"Why?" She whispered.
"Esther Martin in on the run. And you might have harboured her. As long as I was taking you out of play, I might as well enjoy myself. Now rest some dear Mallory. I'll be back for you later." The last was spoken a little firmer, making it both threat and promise in one statement. She started to weep, and he left the apartment. He had to get to the firm before Esther left.
 
She snorted. That’s all she did. Simply snorted, not so ladylike either and sat back in his chair more comfortably. He was speechless, unable to find a word to express? Not even an apology would do so she understood that. She just wanted to know why. She thought…never mind what she thought. She was foolish. She always had been and this was some sickening way to smack some big dose of reality right into her so she woke up from the clouds and fell. She wasn’t in ‘Kansas’ anymore. The line went dead. “Fuck.” She whispered and she stood quickly and searched frantically. She didn’t want to be there when he came. She didn’t know if she could handle it. Sure, she came to his office in search of him when she could have easily gone to his home. But this way at least…no, she couldn’t do it. She had to get out of here.

But those videos, those terrible and offending videos. She pushed his monitor, until it fell backward onto the ground with a loud sound. She then went to the screen and saw it was kind of a mess after she pushed it. She looked around, needing something. Instead, she opted for the last resort. She somehow fought through the pain in her wrists, in the end being reduced to tears as she grabbed his actual computer apart from the wiring and threw it out the window. She ducked when glass shards flew at her, covering her head and then felt the breeze. She looked out the window, looked down and saw the computer in pieces at the very bottom. A far drop. It was tempting even for herself. But no, instead, she hurried, running practically even if it pained her to do so and she dashed out of his office, down the stairs, taking them double time and out of the building through the emergency exit, tripping an even bigger alarm since it said plain and clear in big bold letters, OPEN ONLY IN CASE OF AN EMERGENCY. In other words, if there was an earthquake or a fire. This wasn’t an emergency. It still tripped something and she ran.

The Spot wasn’t far from the firm. But she came to a skidded stop a block away when she saw police all around it, a caution strip over the door, prohibiting unidentified access. She was panting now, and it was like a slam to her chest to see that she really had nowhere to go. Why was this happening to her? What did she ever do wrong?

Swallowing hard, she turned and pulled her hood up, keeping her head down and her hands shoved into her pockets. She kept walking until somehow her feet led her to an apartment building. Not her own. But one she knew well. She went to the buzzer and pressed it for the appropriate apartment. The voice came on.
“Hello?” A male voice.
“Rodolfo.” Esther rasped, still a little bit out of breath from walking as fast as she had been.
“Esther?” He asked.
“Yeah.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I need a place to stay.”
Silence.
“Rodolfo?”
Then it buzzed and the door unlocked and she walked inside and went to his floor. She made it to the top when she saw him come out of his apartment and looked at her, hurriedly bringing her inside before he shoved her to the door after shutting it and his hand moved around her neck. “What did you do?!”
She screamed when her body was slammed back and her eyes closed. She could feel her feet lift off the ground as his grip around her neck tightened.
“Rodolfo, what the fuck?” She wheezed.
“They’re onto me. They’re onto me! All because of you!” He yelled.
“Rodolfo…please…” She couldn’t breathe.

There was a loud banging on the door and in his fit of anger and frustration, he pushed her down to the ground, letting her go but she hit her head in the process, effectively knocking out. In the time she blacked out, the door burst open and shots were fired before his lifeless body hit the floor.

When she woke up, she had a bump on her head, her wrists were wrapped in ice shackles again and she was on the same really comfortable couch as before. Her eyes opened slowly, her vision focusing or taking its time to do so and then she saw the familiar face of Emerson Card in front of her. Man, did he looked pissed.
“Do it again, I dare you.” He grumbled, lifting her head carefully and applying some rubbing alcohol laced cotton ball on her head wound. She winced and tried to claw his hand away but he grabbed it and placed it back down in her lap gently. “You can’t go anywhere Miss Martin.” He told her.
“Why?” She asked.
“You’re a wanted woman by some dangerous people.” He said softly, gently resting her head down after cleaning it up a bit and putting a gauze with some medical tape over it.
“Rodolfo—“
”Dead.”
“What?”
“He sold his soul to the devil shortly before you arrived to get the file.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.” His voice was a touch icy and she cringed lightly.
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah.” He stood. “Sleep.” Then he left her alone and she had no choice but to do just that. So she drifted into the most troubled sleep of her life.
 
Emerosn was noyt what you would call happy. He'd shot two people in a single night. it ws a new record. And he doubted the police would be sympathetic to his cause. Especially since most of them were likely on the payroll of one Harrison Trenton. Still Esther had some spark to be going the way she had been, even if all she'd really done was alert Harrison that she was still around, and likely then, still a threat. There were going to be more people out after them. And this time likely mroe determined. After all, now there was a body trail, and that meant it could go federal. And all he had was some encrypted files that might not hold up in court. He was still up against a wall. But what else could he do? He wasn't sure. Esther was asleep at least. And he'd made a covert stop over at her apratment, partly to see if she was there, adn also t grab a few things of hers so that she might at least be comfortable when she came to again.

Harrison sighed, looking at the devastation of his computer. Esther had likely seen the videos then, adn had taken it...poorly. Not that he blames her really. It was a shock to be sure, adn things were spiralling out of control fast. he took a deep breath. he'd need to relieve some stress when he got home. It was a good thing he'd gotten Mallory. She was proving to be veyr helpful, as a secretary should. he answered the few questions the police bothered to ask. They knew better by and large. One didn't though, a detective who was getting more and more involved, and what was more, Harrison knew that this one wasn't on his payroll.
"Just a few more questions Mr. Trenton." They asked him. Harriosn sighed, adn shook his head.
"No, I think not. I am not under arrest, so I'm departing. Going home." He turned away.
"Sir, did you want an escort?"
"I'll be fine. Vandals happen. Worry no further on my account officer."
"Detective actually."
"My mistake." Harrison left, and drove himself home.

he walked into his apartment, and went straight into the bedroom. Mallory began to cry once she saw him again. he gave her a mile as he pulled his tie off.
"Oh fret not Mallory. I think I' done with what we've been doing for a while." He told her. He saw the disbelief in her eyes, and smiled. "We;re going to try something a little different." He told her. She looked confused as he dragged her half off ot the bed, her chains going tight. her legs were set so she was kneeling on the ground. She could hear his pants hitting the floor. "Now then. Let's being." She felt him sprading her ass cheeks, adn she started to scream into teh gag in terrified anticipation. "Won't this be fun?"
 
It was a nice day outside, but no matter how nice, it couldn’t replace or take away the gloom that had filled her. Her eyes opened the next morning, probably around eight or nine. There was sunlight coming through in little streams of light from the staggered way the blinds were closed. She felt so warm but she felt the full weight of pain that morning. How sore her body was and when she moved to sit up, she let out a soft whimper, her arms moving to cover over her stomach, as if to confine the pain but to no avail. Her wrists were sore, oh so sore and still swollen. Dark purple and blue welts were over them where they had bruised from the impact of the boots that had stomped on them. The horrid nightmare coursed through her mind, reminding her and she shuddered. She felt like she was going to be sick.

She moved like her body didn’t hurt. On her feet in a matter of seconds and in the nearest bathroom, on her knees which burned and whatever had been in her stomach was now in the toilet. She started crying softly, so quietly and flushed the toilet. She always cried when she threw up, especially when in the end, she dry heaved about three or four times, painful dry heaves that wracked through every bone of her chest, ribs and her body all in all. Mostly her torso. Not so much her arms or legs.

She sat on her bottom, back against the wall and her knees bent slightly. Her arms were wrapped around herself and her head tilted back against the wall, her eyes closed. Why was this happening her? Why her? What did she ever do?
After some time, she managed to stand back on her feet, washed her hands carefully, washed out her mouth and then turned the water off, her hands still wet. She ran them over her warm face, cooling it effectively before using a towel to dry. Leaving the bathroom after shutting the light off, she made her way to the kitchen.
 
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