Disclaimer: I only own Emily

Warning: Rated M, for abuse and adult content.

Feedback: A little constructive feedback would be nice. For my new readers, I hope you enjoy and for those of you who read the old version, I do hope you like this one better. Please let me know.

**This takes place before Red Canyon because otherwise things get far too confusing. So, Enjoy!

REWROTE THE LAST HALF OF THIS CHAPTER. IT DID NOT FEEL MAC ENOUGH!


The clock on the wall seemed to tick by with the slow rhythmic beat of a heat that was dying. Outside of the little bar she swore she would never revisit, there was nothing but silence. It was almost as if the entire desert had stilled because it knew what fate had in store for her. As the wind whistled past the open doorway of the Luna Mesa, Emily listened closely for the familiar roar of his engine. A feeling of unnerving wrongness crawled across her flesh and left goose bumps as it went. The chemical concoction which had propelled her here was now a faint whisper. The stress of the day coupled with the vigorous activity she was forced to endure, had left her exhausted. As the last of the adrenaline faded from her bloodstream her body alerted her to the bruises that would soon decorate her back from her fall. Every muscle in her body protested even the slightest movement. Still she refused to listen to it, but this time she had good reason. After realizing that she had driven right into Country Hell and accepting the fact that Mac was Anthony personified, she came to a frightening conclusion. The battle with this devil was not over. Even if they put him in handcuffs and placed him in jail, it would not be over. In the short amount of time that she had been sitting in one of the hard backed wooden chairs in the Luna mesa, she had come to accept one thing. It was a thought she never realized she would some day have. To make it out alive, she might have to kill Mac and if her instinct was correct, Walter too. That was all right with her. This was a lawless land where more often than not, people took matters into their own hands.

For all she knew, the land that surrounded the Luna Mesa, was littered with bodies. It was not as if she was the only woman to come here or to pass through here and have a run in with Mac. He could have made thousands of women disappear and then dumped their lifeless forms when he got bored with them. Another chill crept down her spine and tingled up the back of her neck. The cops were on their way and with the conversation she had overheard, this was not Mac's first run in with the law. She knew help would be here soon, so why could she not shake the feeling that something just wasn't right?

It was one of those moments where everything looks bright and cheery but there is this unmistakable dark undertone. Emily had ignored every single instinctual warning up until this point. Now she was paying full attention to every little tingle her body had. The water she had drink did not carry a funny taste, so she did not believe she had been drugged. There was the distinct possibility that Walter had really called Mac. Maybe the bastard was in on it. That thought caused her to grab the maglite she sat on the floor and give serious consideration to breaking open Walter's skill. She could easily steal his truck. But if he had called the sheriff, then she would go to jail instead of Mac. So she would continue to wait with coerced patience and she would not take her eyes off of Walter. The entire town of Caineville was toxic to her system. Out here, she had no bearings and no one she could trust. At this point, she decided that every inch of Utah should be destroyed. The slow neurotoxin that was fear, had been injected into her system in the beginning and then doubled in potency upon Mac's arrival. If it did not fry her nerves and composure completely, the end result might just be insanity. Then she would end up becoming another dead body in the desert. No one would ever find her body and only one person would realize she was missing. A sudden feeling of complete helplessness drifted over her and she had to fight back the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks.

There was no one she could trust in this portion of hell and she was too far down to be heard by any of the angels. Every smiling face here was another devil in disguise. So when she finally heard the sound of an approaching vehicle, her body jolted in alarm. At first all she heard was the quiet hum and hiss of an engine. Then the sound of gravel rolling beneath rubber tires as the car made its slow precession into the lot. Emily watched the sheriff's vehicles every little movement as if it was a coiled python ready to strike. The legally tinted windows shielded its interior and kept her from being able to see the driver. That only made her more nervous. She wanted to see the face of the man who was masquerading as a good guy. It has been said, in battle, you should know your where in her mental acceptance over the thought of killing someone, Emily had also come to the conclusion that she was at war. There was not just one man she would have to contend with but possibly three.

Slowly the figure emerged from the confines of his cruiser and his full body came into view. Emily scanned over the unformed man that stood just outside. He was nearly as tall as Mac but with a broader build. This did not surprise her in the least. If you are going to play pretend, you might as well make it believable. From her seat inside of the building, she could see no more than the white cowboy hat that now rested atop his head. The sound of boots crunching in the gravel, alerted her to the fact that he wore them to match his hat. Again the storm door creaked as it was pulled open and the man entered. He tossed his hat on an adjacent table before nodding at Walter.

Obviously these two had history. His display of greeting only confirmed her suspicions. Still, she pretended to be the terrified woman, victim of Mac. Now that she could see his baby face and the odd way he held his bottom lip, she felt less threatened. He reminded her of a little boy with a cops badge and a pop gun. The short buzz cut he wore did not cancel the image at all. She would try to pretend to take him serious. Walter was the first one to speak.

"Hel-lo Deputy."

"Evenin Walter."

The deputy calmly produced a notepad and pen from his pocket, before turning to look at Emily. She watched his every move, the gold name badge on his chest caught her eye and she quickly read the name engraved on it, Morgan. His cold blue eyes unsettled her even more. Still nothing could compare to the way Mac's dark pools had raped her flesh, shortly before he had assaulted her.

"Now, I understand that you are having a problem with Mac. Tell me what happened."

"A problem with Mac?! Are you fucking kidding me? That's what you call it?"

"Please try to remain calm and just tell me what happened."

"I will not remain calm! The problem with Mac is the bastard broke into my house and he would have attacked me if I had not escaped."

The deputy said nothing. But he scribbled a few noted down while Walter sat silently at the table.

"So, he broke into your house but you managed to escape?"

"Yes. He slashed my tires on my car so I could not drive away. Hell, Walter witnessed his assault on me here at the bar, earlier today."

Morgan turned and looked at Walter.

"He assaulted her?"

"Ma-c was being overly aggressive. He may have touched her."

"Why did neither one of you call me then?"

"Call you? I had to get out of here after he..."

She could not say it. It was too embarrassing and the simple thought of it re-invoked sensations between her legs that she would rather not relive.

"After he what?"

"He groped me all right!?"

Emily felt her face flush red as Morgan continued to jot down notes.

"Did anything else happen?"

"No."

She shot Walter a warning glance, daring him to say she tried to stab Mac. The old man must have read her loud and clear. He only said one thing.

"Deputy, Ma-c wh-ould not back off da girl until I pulled my shot gun on him."

That surprised her. Did it mean she could trust him? Or was it all a rouse? Morgan continued to write for a few more minutes before finally speaking.

"Did you see him come in the house? Miss?"

"Emily. Just Emily. No I didn't. But I saw him when he exited. I ran into the desert to escape him. I did see his truck before I jumped out the upstairs window."

"Could you identify it for sure?"

"Yes! But I don't need to because I did see Mac!"

He stopped writing and flipped the notebook shut before placing it back in his shirt pocket along with his pen.

"Do you have any bruises from him?"

"No. I refused to let him get his hands on me."

"Unfortunately without any bruises, I can only get him on breaking and entering. Plus destruction of private property."

"You're shitting me right?"

"No, I'm sorry but I'm not."

Emily glanced between Walter and Morgan. She was right not to trust them. The deputy was watching her every move, she could feel his eyes roaming over her flesh. In the next few seconds she knew that she had two choices to make. Either go along with what the pretend cop told her. Or steal an available vehicle and get the hell out of Caineville. 'Tick tok Emily.' For now she decided to play along and pretend to comply. It occurred to her that her demeanor was entirely too calm for the situation at hand. Some where inside she should have been panicked and ready to run. But she wasn't.

"I will go by the house to investigate. Then I will take you with me to get a proper identification. I need to make sure it was Mac you saw."

"Please don't make me see him again."

She pretended to be afraid.

"You will stay in the car while I talk to him."

A thought occurred to her, 'what if Mac says I tried to stab him?' There would be no avoiding him then. If he does tell the deputy about that, then she will end up in handcuffs. God only knows what will happen then. Would he dare turn her over to Mac? Why did that thought even come to her? Emily pulled from her inner thoughts and turned to the deputy. She nodded in silent agreement.

"Sorry about all this trouble Walter."

"Dats all right."

There was a moment of silence and in that moment she caught a knowing glance between the two. Then a nod. The voice in the back of her head told her to leave, Now! Before either one of them could make a move toward her, she tightened her grip on the maglite she had been hanging onto for dear life and cracked it across the Deputy's head. Walter looked at her, eyes wide with shock. Some where within Emily, had been a fighter and they were just waiting for her to accept them. As she was backing toward the door, she heard the sound of Mac's truck pulling into the dusty lot. With her light outstretched like a shotgun, she pointed at Walter. His expression had changed to one of calm submission. He knew what was about to happen and he was perfectly all right with the idea. That look gave her the answer to her question. This man, who had played friend to her face, was in on this madness the whole time. So, why make such a scene at the bar?

"Is there another exit to this place?"

She could hear the bravery in her voice fading with every passing word. The sound of Mac's truck door slamming and his boots slowly approaching, caused her body to stiffen. Walter slowly crossed his arms and just looked at her. Her heartbeat seemed to now match every one of his footfalls. Emily glanced between the door and Walter.

"Is there!?"

Again, the man refused to answer her. Mac was only a few feet from the door when she finally decided she had, had enough.

"Fuck you!"

Emily ran for the back of the restaurant. There was no other exit to this place and none of the windows could open because they had all been nailed shut. She glanced behind her as she heard his boots coming quickly toward her on the wooden floor. It was time to leave, one way or another. So, she slammed the butt of the maglite through the glass of a window and used the shaft of it to clear out the rest of the broken glass. Then she tossed the light and her bag on the other side before starting through it.

"Little bitch! Where the fuck you think you're going?"

Mac grabbed her by her thighs, his fingers digging hard into them through the thin fabric of her pants. Emily kicked and screamed.

"No. Let the fuck go of me! Get off me!"

Her foot connected with something and she heard him grunt. His grip on her loosened enough for her to squirm free of his grasp. There was a good chance he had bruised her legs. At least she was free for a little while longer. Emily fell from the broken window and through it, could hear him screaming profanities at her from the Luna Mesa. Pushing to her feet, she grabbed her things and ran for the desert. Even now she could hear the door shut on the truck and the engine roar to life. She had to keep him from getting his hands on her, no matter what she had to do. Hell, she had already assaulted the only officer for miles, so yeah, she was completely all right with doing whatever. 'Even if you have to kill Mac?' 'Yes.'

The truck roared around the back side of the building, blocking her exit. Emily began shaking at the sight of the truck, her body froze with fear and her heart began hammering against her ribcage. She felt her bottom lip began to tremble and she swallowed the lump of tears forming within her throat. Although she wanted to back away from him, her legs had become concrete and they refused to obey her every command. 'No no no...please no.' As part of her body was shutting down, another part had awoken with a fire that refused to die down. It was the same flame he had ignited without even touching her. Emily begged her legs to move in any direction what was not near him but they were frozen to the ground. Escaping from her house and running away from him was entirely different from looking into his deep blue eyes. The rage and lust coursing through them confused her senses entirely.

A flood of warm wetness rushed down between her thighs and the rest of her body went temporarily numb. She felt parts of her beginning to swell with arousal as the beast approached her. Her eyes scanned over the muscles that pressed against his work shirt and her mind wondered with ideas of exactly what he might do to her. Some part of her knew that it would be nothing like she had imagined, there would be no pleasure for her. At the same time, another part of her wanted to be used and mistreated. To be called a bitch and yanked around by her hair before being bent over the bed of his truck and violated. 'Oh god. What is wrong with me? What has he done to me?' Mac swept her up by her throat and slammed her entire body against the back of the Luna Mesa. Despite the lack of oxygen and the pain now trickling down the back of her head, she found herself incredibly aroused. Emily's hand went numb and she dropped the light. The feeling of his body pressing firmly against hers was only helping to drive the arousal she was fighting.

Mac's face was now inches from hers. She could smell the whiskey and cigarette smell that radiated from every part of him. He glared into her very soul as he stared at her with lust and rage. At any moment he could unleash either one of them on her and she just might be all right with that. 'Emily stop this. I can't. He he...I can't fight him.' A black toothy grin crossed his features and then she was thrown from the wall to the hard desert floor. Her lower belly began to tingle with excitement and then he grabbed her by her hair and yanked her head up hard. He pressed his mouth against hers in a hard kiss before forcing his dirty tongue into her clean mouth. It probed and licked sloppily as it wrestled with her tongue. Despite the fact that his mouth tasted like foulness she could not understand, she still moaned into it. Mac bit her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood and again she moaned. Then he ripped himself away from her and tossed her back to the ground.

Emily was panting with confusion and arousal. She had not realized that her toes were curled within her boots, until he pulled away from her. Mac suddenly back handed her hard enough to send black and white stars into her vision.

"Fucking bitch!"

She tried to roll onto her side to get away from him but he slammed his boot into her hip, sending her to the ground.

"You fucking hit me!"

Emily put her hand up and tried to crawl back away from him, but her grabbed her by her ankles and drug her back to him.

"I ain't done with you yet."

"Mac please...don't do this."

His glare was enough to silence her. Mac stepped around the back of his truck and came back with a bundle of rope. The tears she had been attempting to hold back now came trickling down her cheeks. She knew now that she was going to end up another body out in the endless desert wasteland. Time seemed to slow as Mac moved forward and began binding her wrists. Emily was watching in paralyzed horror as she allowed him to tie her up before throwing her over his shoulder and dropping her in the back of his truck. Why did she not fight him? Why did she not even attempt to move away from him? He had struck her and yet she allowed him to take her. What was wrong with her?

The truck door slammed shut behind him and the engine roared to life. Emily wanted to curl up into the fetal position, but he had been smart enough to tie her hands to her ankles behind her back. All she could do was lay there and hope that someone eventually realizes she has gone missing.