Okay. Here is the final chapter. Hope you guys enjoy.
Disclaimer: Don't own this stuff. Just the concept and the rapist.
Chapter Three Part One
Russell dragged Sara out of the bathroom as she struggled to get out of his arms. Where are you, Grissom? She thought as her eyes swept the kitchen. She screamed again as she saw the note resting on the table.
I went out to get some milk. I ran out. Sorry. I'll be back soon. I think I'll grab a movie too. You know my cell number if you need me.
Russell pushed her sharply into the kitchen, a glower on his face. "So," he snarled as he shoved her again, "you ran straight to your bug man, huh? You really are a whore." He back handed her across her face and sent her sprawling. Sara cried out in pain as she swept her eyes around the kitchen, trying to locate where she had put the steak knives or something else to use but she couldn't get her bearings. Suddenly a boot connected with her face and she felt a scream ripped from her lungs.
"Don't look away from me you whore," he spat as he leaned down and grabbed her wet hair. "I want you to suffer for what you did to me." He violently shook her head and Sara gasped in pain as she tried to hit him in the face, the groin. Anywhere that would give her even a momentary advantage. She was too slow though. She felt blood oozing from her nose and from her mouth and she struggled not to swallow.
Russell shook her head again as his free hand began to dig into Sara. He moaned in pleasure as she bit and scratched as much as she could but every time she did he absent-mindedly slammed her head back against the refrigerator behind her. "Come on baby. You can't tell me that he was any better than I was." He cocked his head at her and smiled maliciously. He lowered his head and bit Sara on the breast. He moaned in gratitude and then winked at Sara. "Wait here, baby. I want to do this exactly as I've wanted to."
To Sara's utter surprise, Russell got up and walked across the kitchen to the back of the apartment. Sara quickly gathered herself and rolled on her stomach. She had an intense urge to vomit but knew that it would slow her down so she held it down. She crawled quickly across the floor, not trusting her legs enough to stand, and looked at the front door. There was a screwdriver wedged into it and she knew that it would take precious minutes to get it out. Then she turned to the bathroom and bit her lip as she saw the mangled doorknob. Finally she turned to her bedroom. It was not the most secure place but it would do. And she could hide out there until Grissom came back. Or until Russell uses your gun to shoot the doorknob off and comes to finish the job. A nasty voice inside her head sneered but Sara ignored it. She could get in there and formulate some sort of plan. Quickly, Sara scuttled to the door of her room and opened it, half surprised when it opened. She swiftly dived in and quietly shut the door behind her, locking it.
Taking a deep breath and leaning against the door to her room, Sara sighed deeply and allowed her body to shake. She leaned over and gagged on the bile that had been in her throat since she had felt his ruddy hands on her. This couldn't be happening. It just couldn't. Not again.
"Sara!" Russell's voice called her name in a tone that made Sara shiver even more. "Oh, Sara! I've got the rope and now we can have a little bit of fun together."
Sara bit the inside of her lip to prevent herself from heaving as her eyes scanned the room for something, anything. Her gun was in the bathroom and she didn't have a phone in here. Her cell phone was… Where was it? Her heart started hammering as her mind raced. It had been inside her pocket after she and Grissom had left the station. She had left it in her car the first time that… that Russell had hurt her and the doctor gave it to her when they were done with the tests. So where had she put it when she got home? Had she slept with it in her pocket? Or had Grissom taken it out?
"Sara," Russell's taunting voice was coming through the door and Sara's heart nearly stopped. "Sara, there is no way out. You're trapped in there. You can't escape. I have a gun and I can easily blow through the door but I would prefer you to open the door so you don't have to risk getting hit. Come on honey. I have the rope. It may hurt a little but in the good way. Come on. You know you want me."
Sara bit her lip as tears slid down her cheeks. She looked around the room desperately, trying to find something to use against him. And then her eyes landed on the small chest under her dresser. She knew what she would do. Slowly, she slid across the room to the closet and silently opened it. She reached up and pulled a robe off of the hanger and gently put it on, wincing as the fabric brushed her fresh wounds. Then she scooted the few feet over to where her mother's ivory-handled pistol rested in its delicate oak box.
Chapter Three Part Two
Sara could hear Russell behind the door trying to coax her out, knowing that she had only a few moments before he would resort to shooting the lock off the door. Her fingers rested on the latch of the box as she struggled internally. She hadn't opened it herself in so long. Her fingers shook as she slipped her fingernail under the clip and nudged it open gently. Her eyes rested on the small pistol inside and suddenly she felt safe again. She stroked the delicate ivory flowers and her mind flooded with the memory of the day that her mother had shown it to her.
"Sara Ann Sidle!" a voice echoed through the house as Sara slipped further under the bed in an attempt to hide herself. She was shaking and she had to bite her tongue to keep from crying out loud. "Sara Ann, if you don't come out here this instant I am going to make you sorry you were ever born!"
Sara shivered violently as she pulled the winter quilt around her and tried not to scream. She hadn't meant to drink so much. She hadn't even known what it was until her head had begun to spin and she began to feel woozy. Only then did she realize her terrible mistake. She had drunk the last of Daddy's beer.
Sara heard her mother's voice soothe her father's violent mood. "Honey, maybe she went out for a bike ride. Why don't you go to the bar for a couple hours and come back when she is home. Then I am sure she will talk to you."
Sara's father's black mood was clear in his voice as he growled a string of profanities. "That little brat is getting on the edge of my last nerve. If she is not home when I get back her backside will be bloodied and bruised. I mean it. I want her sitting in the kitchen and waiting for me with my beer when I return or else." And then, to Sara's intense relief, the front door swung shut loudly and the engine of her father's pick-up truck roared to life. Only when she could no longer hear the loud truck did Sara allow herself to cry.
Slipping out from under the bed, she slowly walked to the open doorway and met her mother's open arms. "Mommy," she cried as she flung her small arms around her mother's neck. "Mommy, I am sorry. I didn't mean to drink it. I thought it was root beer. Daddy said that he had bought me some and I thought that that was it." She pressed her face into her mother's ample chest as she shook with tears. "I didn't mean to make Daddy so mad."
"Shh, baby. I know it was an accident." Sara's mother kissed her daughter's head and stroked her hair. "I know that you didn't mean it."
Sara sniffled as she pressed herself further into her mother's comforting embrace. "Is Daddy going to hurt me?"
Sara could feel her mother stiffen. "No, honey. Daddy's not going to hurt you this time. I promise. He'll calm down at the bar. You'll see."
Sara's young mind could hear the lie in her mother's voice and she knew very well what that meant. She gently pried her arms off of her mother's neck and pulled away. "Why is Daddy like this, Mom? Why does he get so angry?"
A sigh ran through Mrs. Sidle's body as she looked at her young daughter. Sometimes she wished she wasn't so observant. "You know why. The beer makes him forget who he is."
Sara shook her head. "No, mom. I mean why does he get so angry. Does he hate me? Should I try something different?" her face fell. "Would he still get so angry if I was a boy?"
"No, baby. No, he's just not a very happy person. It has nothing to do with you. Don't let yourself think that."
"But what if he comes home still angry? What if this time the beer makes him forget who he is for too long and hurt you again?" A little eight-year-old finger trailed lightly down a scar on her mother's face from a "falling" lamp that her daddy had "accidentally" dropped.
"I won't let him hurt me again. And he won't hurt you. I promise."
Sara shook her head. "But he is so big, Mommy. And you and I are little."
Sara's mother racked her brain for an answer. Finally she realized what she had to do. Grabbing her daughter's hand she led her across the hall into the room that she had shared with her husband for ten long years. Releasing her daughter, she bent down on the floor and reached under the bed where the little oak box that her brother had given to her before he had died. Pulling it out onto her lap, she slipped her nail under the latch and popped it open. Sara's eyes widened.
Inside was a delicate pistol with an ivory handle. Flowers and birds were carved into it and the polished surface glistened in the sunlight trailing through the window. Pulling the gun out, Sara's mother looked at her beautiful daughter. "This was my great-great grandfather's gun. He fought to keep his land and family safe from the Indians that fought to take it away. He gave it to his son and it was passed from child to child until my brother gave it to me. I promise you, Sara: if your father ever tries to hurt us ever again I will do what my great-great grandfather did. I will protect us with whatever means necessary. I promise."
Sara nodded. She knew what her mother was going to do.
That night, when Sara's father came home, Sara was sitting on the little stool in the kitchen with a box of beer in her hands bought with her own money. When he staggered into the kitchen and his eyes rested on her, she smiled and held up the beer. "Here, Daddy! I bought you some special beer!"
The man looked at his daughter through glazed eyes and he failed to notice his wife standing protectively behind the little girl, hands behind her back. "What do you mean?" he slurred. "Do you expect me to accept that crap over my good stuff?"
Sara's face fell. "But, Daddy, I got the bestest stuff that they had. I bought it with my birthday money from Grammy."
"Bull!" He shouted, making Sara jump in fright. "You are just like your slut of a mother! You lie and steal my stuff and when you think you're going to get in trouble you lie again and try to hide the truth from me! I won't take it any more. You and that whore of a mother are going to pay. You know what I found out tonight at the bar?" He bent down so that his face was only a few inches from Sara's frightened one. "I found out that your mother is sleeping with your kindergarten teacher. Do you know what that means? It means that she is letting the guy stick his dick into what is mine!"
Sara frowned as she looked up at her mother. "Mommy?"
The woman glowered at her husband. "You bastard." She gritted through her teeth. "You dirty bastard. Don't you feed my daughter such lies. Don't frame me for what you are doing with every teenage girl in this town. I know about Alice and Mary. They're only sixteen, for Heaven's sake. And I know that there are more. Don't you dare tell this little girl that I am performing your crimes! I won't allow you to lie to our little girl!"
The drunken man looked up at his wife with a smirk on his face. "You might actually have some brains after all." Suddenly his hand lifted and he struck Sara so hard against the face that she was sent sprawling along with the beer in her lap. He rose to his full height as he began to shoot accusations at his wife, unaware that she was holding a loaded gun behind her back. Only when he had the gun pointed right between his eyes did what was happening really hit him. "What are you doing?"
"I am going to save my daughter. You will never touch her ever again. Never."
Sara tucked her eyes under her arm as she heard the five shots ring through the house. She felt thick, warm liquid on her body and she smelled the gunpowder. Her mother knelt down beside her daughter and scooped her up in her arms. "Shh, baby. Daddy's gone now. He'll never hurt you ever again." Then she carried Sara into the living room and turned on the TV.
Sara felt the cold gun in her hands as she remembered her mother's words. Her mother had saved her from physical pain for the duration of her childhood, sure, but she could never have known the wounds that she created when she pulled that trigger. She had thought that she was her daughter's savior but Sara knew that it was this gun that had saved her from her pain. It was this gun that traveled with her for years in its little oak box and it was this gun that comforted her when she was frightened of the bogeyman. Now, it was this gun that was going to save her yet again.
Resting her finger on the trigger, Sara stood on shaky legs and turned to the door. She heard Russell checking her other gun for ammunition and was prepared when the shot rang out, sending the doorknob into pieces.
"Come out, come out wherever you are!" Russell's voice taunted as he pushed the door open. He sneered as he saw Sara standing before him. "Aw, are you going to fight me? That's so sweet." He raised the gun to point at her shoulder. "But you are not going to get very far." Before he could pull the trigger, Sara moved her gun from behind her back and pointed it at him.
"Don't shoot me, Russell," Sara's voice cracked and she could taste the dry blood in her mouth. "You won't be able to get out alive if you try."
Russell chuckled. "You won't shoot me, Sara. You don't have the guts."
Sara raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? You know that that isn't true."
Russell shrugged and cocked the gun. "Shoot me then. I don't expect to get out alive anyway."
Sara looked at him in confusion. "What?"
"I busted out of jail, Sara. I killed a police officer. I don't expect to be living in peace anymore. I just wanted to hurt you again and when I am done, I am going to kill myself. I must admit that you helped me, though. I was debating whether or not to leave you alive or kill you but now it's clear. You won't be in as much pain if I don't kill you. So now I know exactly what I am going to do."
Sara looked into the eyes of the man who had raped her and a wave of hate almost knocked her over. "So that's what this is all about? Hurting me? Making me suffer as much as possible?"
Russell nodded. "Yeah. And, finding you the way I did today, I know just how to do that." Swiftly, he lowered his gun to Sara's side and fired. Sara had no time to react as pain clouded her vision. She keeled over and screamed in agony. Russell came over to her and she could see a length of rope in his hands. "Your bug man is going to be home soon. I want him to see you this way. And then you will watch him die because of you."
Sara stared at him in disbelief. Blood was seeping out of her side and making a warm pool on her shirt. "He has nothing to do with this. Don't hurt him."
Russell shook his head as he tightly wrapped the rope around her chest and wrists. "On the contrary, my dear. He has everything to do with this. You have no idea how many times I woke up to you saying his name or how many times I caught you eyeing him with want. You never wanted me. You only accepted me to punish him. I want your body for myself and always have. I wanted to kill him every time you said his name as I entered you. And now I will."
Sara gasped as the rope pressed into her side where her gun wound was. "You can't kill him. Please don't. I'll do anything, anything at all."
Russell glared at her as he finished tying her ankles. "No. That would ruin the whole point. Don't you see? I want you for myself. If you do that to save him then you will still have him on your mind. It will just be exactly the same. You'll call out his name when we make love and you'll look at those books that he's given you and think of him. It will always be him. But now I am going to take him from you. Don't worry. You'll live. I only grazed you with the bullet and I am going to call the hospital before I kill myself." He looked down at Sara and she was shocked to see his eyes full of sorrow. Before she could reply, however, Russell straightened and walked swiftly to the door where he yanked the screwdriver out. Then he picked a knife off of the counter and walked back to Sara.
"I am just doing this to help you, Sara." He said as he put his left hand on her cheek before running the knife down her face with right hand. Sara screamed as it slashed down her cheek. "Now no one will ever want you again," he whispered as he lifted the knife again to cut off her robe so she was naked except for the ropes that bound her. Gently, he lifted her and carried her out to the living room. Placing her tenderly down on the couch he laid a blanket over her body. He made a soothing sound as she cried. "Shh, baby. You won't get hurt again. Never again."
Sara closed her eyes to block out his face as he leaned in to kiss her on the lips. She wanted him to be gone. She was relieved when he pulled away but her heart stopped as she heard the doorknob turn slowly.
"Sara!" Grissom called as he stepped over the threshold and closed the door with a bag of groceries in one arm and a wrapped box in the other. His eyes rested on Sara's face and he cried out in shock. "Sara!" He ran over to her and knelt down next to her. "Oh, God what happened to you?"
Before Sara could warn him, a knife was already whistling through the air towards Grissom's chest. Grissom's eyes widened in shock as the knife connected with his back and Sara's scream pierced the silence.
Chapter Three Part Three
Grissom sagged on top of Sara as blood pooled around the knife. Sara screamed again in anger as she struggled against her bonds, causing the blanket to fall from her body. Grissom was struggling to regain his breath as Russell shoved him off of Sara.
"Hey, old man. How are you doing? The weather's nice, don't you think?" Russell yanked the knife out of Grissom's back and smiled as Grissom yelled in pain. "I was just talking to your friend here and decided how to make your day." He put the knife down on the end table and sneered at Sara and Grissom in turn. Slowly his fingers unzipped his pants. "You're a lonely man. Have you ever wanted to watch porn? I bet you have and I am sure that you actually have some in your place. Now is your lucky day though. You get to see some live."
Sara gasped as she struggled again at her bonds and Grissom stared in horror at Russell. His breath was labored and his eyes were glazed in pain. He was able to utter one word though as Russell dropped his pants. "No," he rasped and, as he did so, blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth.
Russell chuckled and looked down at Grissom. "No? And why not? You had your chance with her. This girl would have done anything for you and yet you only shrugged her off. When someone is here threatening your alpha-male scene, though, you get all protective. You know you're sending a mixed message, right?" He grinned as Grissom tried to sit up. He lifted his foot and shoved him down, drawing a moan from Grissom. "Now you are going to watch a real man take her."
Before Grissom could do anything, Russell had yanked off Sara's blanket and thrust himself inside her. Sara screamed as Russell moaned in pleasure. "Grissom!" she screamed as she tried to look at him from over the edge of the couch but Russell glared at her and slapped her hard across the face. She whimpered as he rode her and kept trying to look at Grissom. She didn't want him to get hurt and she knew that if she didn't warn him he would.
Grissom was struggling to sit up. Ignoring the grunts coming from the sweaty man on top of Sara his hand was searching the floor for something…anything. Then he saw the ivory handled pistol. Grunting, he tried to shift his body so he could reach under the couch to where Sara had dropped the gun. He knew it was the only way to save her. His mind was in disarray and he tried desperately to focus but it was so hard not to just let go. He could just close his eyes and let everything slip away just like he had learned to years ago. He could block out the pain and the agony and he could spare himself. But he couldn't block out Sara's pain that way. As looked swiftly toward her face, their eyes connected and she mouthed his name. That was all he needed. Biting his lip so hard that it bled, he stretched his arm and grasped the handle of the gun. As quickly as he could, he raised the gun and pointed the gun at Russell's head. Then he pulled the trigger.
Again and again he shot until Russell had fallen off of the couch in a pile of blood and skin. Sara screamed and Grissom collapsed in a boneless heap. It was over. He could close his eyes and sleep soon. All he had to do now was get Sara some help. He looked toward the front door where a small security device hung. All he had to do was set that thing off and people would come. He sighed and looked above him at Sara. She was silent and her eyes were closed but her chest rose and fell. In the distance he could hear sirens and they were growing louder. Closing his eyes, he drifted into a deep, dark sleep.
Just so you know:I will be writing an epilogue soon. Just be patient and please review!
Lots of Love: Shigure