• Due to the harsh dialog in this chapter, I felt the need to warn you guys; This chapter contains unpleasant, nasty, vile talking about group rape that could and should disturb you. Please read on cautiously. •

"Do you have any batteries?"

It was déjà vu. We had both been here before, only first time she'd sounded seductive, not suicidal. Her voice wasn't crumbling or hoarse and her attire wasn't this messy; Wrinkled oversized, pinstriped man's dress-shirt and boxers. Not too far from my dirt-stained T and worn-out jeans. We'd make a fine couple in the grunge fashion industry.

She refused to meet my eyes and I knew why. She couldn't stand looking at me, but she was desperate right now. Maybe even humiliated, having to come here and ask me. Her survival technique was to have an orgasm whenever she felt like this, and clearly Maddox hadn't performed admirably last night. A shitty part of me was glad that he didn't. The non-shitty part of me hated seeing her in this condition.

So therefor, I asked, "A+?"

She nodded silently, sniffling. As she lifted her arm to pull a lock of hair behind her ear, I instinctively caught her wrist. Four small bruises with the same size as fingertips tinted her skin. "Is this what he considers as making love?"

She pulled her arm out of mine and covered it up with her sleeve. "I-I like it that way."

"Sure you do."

"Stop it." She whispered, still not meeting my eyes. "Do you have any batteries or n-not?"

Without further ado, I went up to my smoke alarm in the kitchen, yanked the batteries out and walked back. I handed them to her.

Her cheeks were stained with dried tears and her eyes looked swollen and red, suggesting that she had cried recently and for a long period of time. Her hair was unwashed and uncombed, indication lack of hygiene which probably meant she was depressed. Her skin looked bleaker than normal, paler, indicating she might not have been enjoying the beach as mu--

"Don't."

My eyes traveled up to hers which were now finally staring back at me. They were flickering with pain. "Don't what?"

"I can see it in your eyes and you're making a deduction. Don't."

"Okay." And I meant it. For four whole seconds, I simply stared at her and she stared back.

Then, she dropped the batteries to the floor and jumped me. My arms caught her as our lips clashed, finding each other in need.

Amy moaned and I held her tighter while she grasped my black stained T-shirt and dragged me closer. I kicked the door to my apartment shut, and just like that, we were heading for my bedroom.

She pulled my shirt off on the way, I ripped hers off, buttons flying. My pants were unzipped and yanked down, her boxers went too. In the blink of an eye, I had her down on my bed, kissing my way up her stomach to her breasts.

Amy arched her back and dug her fingers into my messy hair, moaning pleasurably when I bit into her nipple. Blindly, while kissing my way up her décolletage, throat and jaw, I dug my hand into my nightstand, searching for a condom. I found one and pulled back to sheathe myself.

Amy was panting heavily, looking up at me with blazing eyes. I came down on her again and angled myself between her legs, balling them up. In one solid thrust I penetrated her, drawing a loud cry from her. She arched her back again and gripped onto my shoulders as I started moving inside her. Each thrust made her shudder and moan, and each time I felt myself slowly get sober, yet drunker at the same time.

My lips found hers and our tongues mingled. Hot breaths shot out of our mouths, our fingers intwined, our bodies started to glisten with sweat. I hit her centre each time I thrust inside her, and slowly, I could sense her ōrgasm coming. At last, she threw her had back and screamed, coming so hard around me, it released my own climax. I let go with a long groan, jerking inside her as my tip erupted. I filled up the condom and collapsed on top of her, probably suffocating her. But as both of our orgasms subsided and I tried to roll off her, she wrapped her arms around me and kept me put. For just a moment, we laid there, breathing.

Then finally, I drew back a little and looked at her. She met my eyes with her own soft chocolate ones, simply glazing back at me, hers wet with tears. She looked... broken.

You did that to her. You broke her. Nice going, Detective. Your job is to help people, yet you managed to completely break this one. Go put on that Purple Heart medal they gave you. No seriously - go put it on.

I shut my eyes and instead finally rolled off her. She let me, even if it seemed reluctant. I threw an arm over my eyes, not wanting to see her looking the way she did - not wanting to see what I had made her look like.

"When did you get back?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

"Last night."

"Where have you been?"

"You don't want to know."

"Yes I do."

"I was out getting high."

A long pause stretched where she didn't move or speak. Then finally; "Are you high now?"

I sighed and removed my arm. "No."

Her eyes softened and she slowly lifted herself up on her elbow. "Russell, I know what you said two weeks ago wasn't to--"

"Hurt you. I know you do, you're clever enough to understand that where I'm heading is a path that requires no companion."

Another short silence. "How about just company, then?"

I swirled my eyes to meet hers. "Company?"

She nodded and licked her lips. "We don't have to follow the same path, but that doesn't mean they still can't meet once in a while. Like this."

I frowned at her. Was she actually suggesting a fuck-buddy relationship with a drug-addicted detective who was currently on the Russian Mafia's radar of people to mess with? "And here I thought you were smart, Amy."

"What?"

"I don't cross paths with anyone," I snapped and sat up, throwing the covers off. "Actually no, scratch that, I do cross paths with someone; They're called criminals, and as of some time ago, I am officially on all of their hitlists."

"Russell--"

"It was good seeing you again Amy, I hope those batteries still work."

The thick, throbbing silence that felt afterwards was excruciating and I damned myself for letting it reach my heart. When the fuck did this woman get under my skin? She was like a virus to my system. I didn't want it, I didn't need it. Yet I still got it and now it was coursing around in my veins, weakening me. Making me vulnerable.

I had to heal myself, and the only way to do that was to get an antidote; A new drug.

"I'm heading in to work," I said, pulling on my pants before grabbing my dirty shirt. I combed a hand through my tousled hair. "You should head home. Goodbye, Amy."

I couldn't even wait for her reply. I had to get out of there before a repeat of our most recent activity occurred. I was weak. So fucking weak.

~~~

"Incredible what a shower and a shave can do to you. You actually look human again."

I ignored Leon's sarcastic voice and buckled my belt. Showering at the police station had been my only option. I couldn't be close to my apartment. And of course Leon had payed notice to that; The one time he actually used his sense of deduction was the one time I wished he wouldn't.

"How did things go back home with Amy and all that? Did you run into her?"

"I found some abandoned locations during my time on the street," I said, ignoring him again. I pulled out the black striped tie and slung it around my neck. "While they to the unobservant audience looked ripped of all their previous values, traces of what happened there were still visible on closer inspection."

Leon seemed to let his own question pass and followed my drift. Thankfully. "So what did you find?"

"Traces of a certain oil only used to maintain a certain kind of boat. Cargo ships. Furthermore, I found fragments of a thick metallic blue paint which under a microscope appeared to be the coating seal of a shipping container. Traces of rust within the sample narrowed it down to a container which has been in use for nearly three years and suffered exposure to sea salt. Finally, I also found microfibers in a small bib which contained cigar smoke particles."

"A bib?"

"This led me to the deduction that our Russian mob has sought out shelter close to the docks, most likely to be closer to their shipment orders. Or perhaps to have a quick getaway."

"Christ. Anything else?"

"I found pollens from a certain flowering plant."

Leon was quiet for a long dead moment. "Don't tell me..."

"Rosæ calyx," I voiced, tightening the tie. "A rosebud. A clue left there on purpose for me since that particular species doesn't grow in this area."

"Shit," Leon cursed. "Russ, what does this mean?"

"It means we are heading down to the pier, comerate," I replied, coating the last word in a thick Russian accent. "A certain Rose is waiting for us."

"And you're sure she's there?"

I just glared at him.

Signing, he picked up the cell in his belt and dialed a number while I pulled down the collar of my green shirt, fixing it.

"This is officer Leon Jones, requesting for a full back-up SWAT team. The Russian Mafia's headquarters have been located and with all due respect, we intend to bring these fuckheads down. Standing by for confirmation."

~~~

"All units stand by. Nobody moves until I command otherwise," Leon gruffly spoke into his mic. The SWAT team had surrounded a building I had identified to be the chosen one, especially after seeing the two full-blooded Russians standing guard outside. So far they hadn't spotted anything unusual which was impressive, considering the swarm of policemen that Leon had called for. It was godawful to say the least.

Right now for example, I was crouching behind a large barrier, waiting for... well, for fucking chaos to explode. Their game plan was to storm the building. Nobody bothered to listen to me when I told them that was a horrible idea. Leon just dragged me along instead and kept me for translation.

"Alright, Russ, you're up."

Leon handed the binoculars over to me and I took them with a flat glare. I then zoomed in on the men outside the building by the pier and I squinted my eyes. I watched their lips closely.

"What are they saying?" Leon asked from my left. "Are they speaking Russian or English?"

I watched their mouths chew on their syllables and spit them out like snuff. "Russian."

"Can you tell what they're saying?"

I blinked, concentrating on their lips. It wasn't an easy task lip-reading a Russian from 50 feet away, but it was me.

"Stop messing around with that, asshole. Vahlov said to keep an eye open for the police."

"Those spineless dicks won't have the guts come here," The other man replied, spitting on the ground while keeping a hand on the gun sitting in his belt which was covered by his jacket. "We could rape their fucking wives and they wouldn't face us like real men."

"Do you think the clever blond will come?" The first one asked, lighting up a smoke. That made it so much harder to read his lips.

"I would if I was him," The second guy snorted. "Did you see what they did to his woman? I would be mad as fuck if it was mine."

My brain went into a freeze; Something it had never done before. I wish I could replay his words and read them again, just so I was sure I didn't get it wrong. But I hadn't.

"Yeah, what a mess," The first guy continued. "But she's still alive, right?"

"Only just. After Vlad had his turn with her, I wouldn't count on her pussy still being in one piece. She cried like a baby when Dhargo joined. They took her from the front and back at the same time while they had her chained to the ceiling. They fucked her so hard she passed out from the pain. I gotta give it to her, she could take a proper dicking, even when unconscious. I think they split her pussy in half, though."

It took my absolute everything not to whirl around, grab Leon's gun and fire away. Instead I slowly turned around, handing the binoculars back to Leon.

My blood was boiling, my brain was throbbing and my body was shaking with anger. They had taken Amy. They had raped her because of me. It was my fault they had taken her because I couldn't control myself.

"Russ, answer me, man. What did they say? Have they hurt the girl?"

I took a deep breath, clenching my fists. My brain was working on high pressure right now. More so than usual.

"The girl is fine. It's me they want. They were talking about how Vahlov wants to have a talk with me."

"Shit," Leon cursed, scratching his jaw. "Well then you're staying here. Obviously."

"No, obviously I got to go in," I glared back. "If there's even the slightest chance that Vahlov will listen to me, I could perhaps convince him to hand over the kid peacefully. In any case, I can stall him for a long time by using acrobatically difficult words to speak."

"That is if he doesn't shoot you first," Leon retorted, giving me a dry look. "You're not going in there, Russ. You're a private detective--"

"--who just so happens to speak Russian fluently," I fired back. "There are two ways this can go down; One, either you let me go in there and stall time for you, or two; I go in there myself. It's a free country."

Leon looked at me like I was insane and cursed to the sky, before finally running a hand over his afro. "You are goddamn suicidal, Russell! You go in there, they'll kill you! And not even your brain can talk your way out of that."

"I'll actually take that bet."

"I'm not betting you, I'm telling you. You're not going in there, that's final. Think about Amy."

"I am," I said, gritting my teeth. "I'm sorry Leon, but you give me no choice."

"Oh no, don't even think abou--"

I jumped up over the barrier and ran. Leon didn't get a chance to get a hold on me before I was gone. The last thing I heard was Leon yelling into his mic to stand down and not shoot the maniac running across the grounds. I bolted head first towards the Russian Headquarter, slowing my pace as I got closer. The two guards outside noticed me and immediately drew their weapons. I stopped, holding up my hands. "Easy, I'm just making your job a whole lot simpler. You wanted me, didn't you? Here I am."

The two Russians exchanged a skeptic look before they came closer. One of them pulled out a walkie-talkie and said a codeword. What that codeword meant was obvious, and I really hoped it was to the normal-minded person, too.

"I'm not armed," I said, rolling my eyes as they stalked closer, guns prepared. "There's no need to warn the squad, believe me. I'm not stupid enough to fight."

"Shut up," The first guard said in a very rusty English. "You don't speak."

I rolled my eyes again, pressing my lips together. If they wanted silence, then that's what they got.

"Don't move, hands behind your head," The other one said as he came up to me, patting me down for weapons. I calmly stood while he checked me, obviously coming up short. "He's clean."

The other guard nodded, narrowing his eyes at me. "What is your game, detective?"

"I can speak now?" I flatly asked. "I came by because I believe you have something that doesn't belongs to you."

I noticed the Russians exchange a pointed look before they both smirked sinisterly. Finally, one of them grabbed my hands, twisted them behind my back and locked them with a set of cuffs. "Come with us, Detective."

They led me into the building while I felt Leon's binoculars bore into my back.

Sometimes, actions like these were necessary. And sometimes - like now, when I saw the first Russian guy discretely pull out a set of brass knuckles - you first had to endure pain to get what you wanted.

• • •

Shit is about to hit the fan.