Gwen held her breath. She literally felt a physical ache in her chest; as though her beating heart was clobbering against every surface within its enclosed space. She wanted to put a hand against her chest to help settle her anxiety, but all she could manage was to struggle against her restraints. Her ears pricked, searching for any indications that someone had stepped into the room.

All she registered was silence....

Seconds passed and Gwen couldn't hold her breath any more. She exhaled with a conspicuous whoosh and then audibly gasped another deep breath.

As more seconds clocked by, she became certain that she was alone. She closed her eyes with relief and shook her head. Flexing her fingers, she slowly sat up again, ready to resume her escape plans. She knew she had to hurry. She assumed she got lucky this time; but she knew that she would not be quite so lucky next time.

"So that's where you've been hiding. I should have figured you had more balls than Tom gave you credit for."

"No" Gwen thought, horrified.

It wasn't so much that she'd been caught that merited her reaction. It was the who that had caught her that terrified her. A hand reached down and ripped off the duct tape.

"Steve" she whispered; hoping against hope that she was wrong.

"That's right darling. Did you miss Ol' Stevie?" he asked, his voice dancing with mirth.

Gwen shook her head, too stumped to speak. Whimpers escaped her lips as Steve grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled viciously. Her head snapped back painfully and her scalp felt like it was on fire.

"Please..." she whispered. Begging was beneath her, but asking couldn't hurt, could it? Was there a difference, she wondered?

A snort followed a malicious chuckle. "You're done for, you know that right? All these years that you've been with my brother and all I could do was look. Not so much anymore. It's well within my rights to do with you as I please now. He's done with you. I hope you've worked that out."

As the truth behind his words sunk in, Gwen grit her teeth. Come what may, she would not whimper, cry or beg before this sadist.

And that's exactly what Steve was. She'd known it the first time she'd seen his girlfriend. Battered and bruised, subdued and defeated. That's how he liked his women and that's what he trained them to be.

Steve dragged Gwen on the bed and backhanded her. She flopped over sideways with the impact. Steve grinned and waited for her to scream, cry, beg – anything. He needed to know that he was in control and that she feared him.

Instead, Gwen bit down on her lip to refrain from crying out loud. The force of that smack had been severe enough to bring tears to her eyes. A few deep breaths later, the feeling passed.

Annoyed, Steve grabbed Gwen by the hair and sat her up. This time he punched her. She reeled over backwards and led out a barely audible groan. The tears were harder to control. But she closed her eyes tight and thought of everything that made her happy; from cinnabons to Earl Grey to walking on wet grass barefoot, the kitten she had as a child and even her first crush in high school. Anything to distract herself and reign in the fear.

"Oh so that's how we're playing this", Steve chuckled. "You don't want to give me the satisfaction of breaking you is that it? Here's a news flash dahling. I've only just begun with you and it will only get much, much worse from here. Giving me what I seek will only make things less messy... for you"

With that said, Steve hooked his fingers in the belt loops of her jeans and brutishly pulled her up. Gwen's back groaned with the discomfort and her shoulders ached with the position of her bound hands.

Steve grabbed Gwen by the throat and slowly began squeezing. For a second her eyes widened with fear and she saw his satisfied smirk.

If she screamed, if she begged, if she broke, he would continue to hurt her and derive maximum pleasure from her pain. The beating could go on for hours. A part of her was being very negative, No one out there is missing you it whispered. No one is looking for you and no one is coming to rescue you. But if she refused to give him what he sought and stayed numb and expressionless, he might just end it all, right now. No, knowing Steve as she did, she wouldn't put it past him to be able to kill. While both paths led to the same outcome – eventual death, the latter seemed the least painful to Gwen.

Coming to terms with the fact that she was in this alone, and that this was most likely the end for her, she closed her eyes tightly. A very unhappy Steve let out an angry growl at her reaction, and tightened his fingers around her neck to the point where even the smallest breath was impossible. Despite her efforts to distract herself, tears welled up behind her lids and trickled down her cheeks. Her lungs screamed for air, and burned for release. She felt dizzy and extremely heavy-headed.

Pass out... pass out she chanted in her head. Then you won't feel a thing, her mind tried consoling her.

Giving up, Gwen stopped struggling to breathe and waited for death – or unconsciousness – whichever would come first, to claim her.

Instead, she heard the door slam open and a very familiar voice growl, "hell no, get your hands off her you lowlife".

Her eyes snapped open and despite the pain, discomfort and inability to breathe, Gwen smiled. A relieved sob escaped her as she realized that someone did miss her. That someone did come looking for her. And because of that someone, today was not be her last day.

Barely a split second later, James flew at Steve and wrestled his hands off Gwen. She rolled to the corner of the bed, greedily gulping down precious air deprived to her. Tears now poured down her cheeks freely as she fought back the heavy headedness she was feeling.

Her eyes focused on the men who were now trading punches. James and Steve looked equally matched in the scuffle – for each blow James landed, Steve seemed to be returning one. The sound of knuckles connecting with skin, splitting open eyebrows and lips, were being accompanied with grunts and groans and rampant swearing. James caught a break when he landed a solid punch to Steve's face, the sound of cartilage snapping echoing off the walls. James then upper-hooked Steve, who then went down like a sack of potatoes.

Gwen silently prayed that James broke his jaw. That would serve the bastard right. James growled, "Stay down," before rushing to Gwen's side.

He reached into his boot and pulled out a small knife. Within seconds he had sawed through all her restraints. He yanked out a handkerchief for her bleeding lip and offered it to Gwen. Silently he sat beside her, massaging her arms, trying to restore circulation.

"Thank you" Gwen whispered, her throat sore from earlier. She coughed as it itched and burned with her effort to speak.

"Shh..." James whispered, putting a finger to her lips as her eyes welled up again, James wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. Once her emotions settled, he slid his phone from his pocket and dialed Aalam's number. He spoke quickly, sharing the news and asked for something warm for her throat and an ice pack for her lips.

"You're safe now", he whispered, quickly pressing his lips to her forehead.