What Fears May Bring

by: Savage

WARNING: this story contains adult content. Sex, violence, and mature dialog will all be found herein, so kids don’t read this. Turn your asses around right now and go to bed (that is only if your parents are around if not, you may proceed)

Here's the bottom line people. We're sick of reading all those mushy "Oh I love you so much." stories that don't even touch a theme with a ten foot pole!! Quit writing that crap!!! You know who you are!! We at least attempt to hold your attention with.... what's the word...Oh yeah!! A PLOT!! If you like or are opposed to any material in this story you can E-mail us and let us know, but we really don’t give a rat’s ass what you think. Now enjoy!!

DISCLAIMER: Ok ya know what. We own this stuff. Chris, Rita, the whole lot!! That's right!! Stu Segal productions is no longer in existence It's now Dormies Incorporated. We bought him and USA network for $5.00 and a lap dance baby!! The deal was gold!! ===========================================================================

The heavens had opened again, releasing their undying wrath and fury upon the unsuspecting earth below. The sheets of rain that sliced mercilessly through the night, were broken only by the illumines glare of two identical yellow beams. A late modeled sedan came to a slow halt in the center of the unlit marina parking lot. Following it was an entourage of police squad cars and coroner’s vans. Within in minutes the once pitch black lot was fully aglow. Yellow police tape was stretched along its perimeters and flashing blue lights surrounded the area. A bolt of pure blue fire pierced through the night sky as a tall sandy-haired man exited his car.

"Damn it. It’s not supposed to rain in Florida." He muttered, however the words were known only to him as the enraged sky voiced its fury, shaking the very earth beneath his feet.

"Sgt. Kelly!!" A voice came from his left. "She’s right this way!!" A younger uniformed officer struggled to speak over the storm as he held an umbrella between himself and the man he was addressing. Kelly let out a deep, ragged breath as he ran his fingers through his now dampened hair and began to approach the scene. They continued walking until they came directly beside the covered body. Immediately, the two were joined by a third man.

"Are you sure you wanna see this Vince." The man’s voice was low, solemn. He ran his fingers across his thick grey mustache as he stared down at the plastic blanket covering the horrifying display.

"Just let me see her." Vince kept his eyes down, never once looking up to acknowledge the chaos around him. Upon his somber request the blanket was removed.

"H-holy shit!" The young officer stammered. His stomach tightened in knots as his entire body was struck with uncontrollable trembles. "I-I gotta go...." He managed to croak. He took a few steps backwards, and his umbrella fell from his hand before he finally turned and slipped behind a nearby parked car.

"What kind of son of a bitch would do something like this." The older man muttered, only half to himself, as he watched the rain begin to unsettle the large pools of blood surrounding the body, forcing them to flow like deep crimson streams along the black asphalt.

Sgt. Kelly’s stoic expression never faltered. Light hazel eyes darkened with rage and the muscles of his arms stiffened under his light wind jacket, but he never looked away form the small, terribly desecrated body of the once beautiful young woman.

"Well Vince?" The older man spoke as he adjusted the hood of his bright yellow rain coat. There was a long silence as Vince forced himself to avert his eyes from the hellish scene. He tilted his head upward, allowing the rain to hit him full force on the face.

"It’s her." The words fell harshly from his lips as he turned and began to walk away.

"Are you sure about this Vince?" The older man followed, struggling to keep up with Vince’s quick pace. "She’s pretty messed up, it’s hard to tell even if....."

"It’s her DAMN IT!!!" Vince shouted as he made an abrupt turn to face the older man. Lightening flashed behind him and the angry sky seemed to mimic his rage. The older man’s demeanor stiffened instantly. He once again ran his hand over his mustache before he spoke.

"So I can put this down as a positive I.D. Sgt.?"

"Whatever Doc." He spoke in a strained, very labored tone. His brow furrowed as he bit his bottom lip in an effort to control his emotions. "Just get Homicide down here."

 

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The still of dim amber street lights and the persistent sway of bowed palms cast layered night shadows out side as rain pounded insistently on the windows of the sea-side apartment building. Atlantic waves crashed fiercely against the nearby shore, rushing forward with all their might, only to withdraw and repeat the task again. Outside, all the hells of nature were raging, but inside the small, but comfortable apartment things were somewhat calmer. Somewhat.

"What about pizza Sam?" Chris Lorenzo questioned his partner as he reached to take the phone from her hands.

"No freakin’ way!" Rita said as she snatched the receiver from his grasp. She abandoned her position on the floor and seated herself above him on the sofa. "You got to pick the movies. I’ll choose dinner." Piercing deep green eyes cast down, firing mock animosity at their target, who was still seated on the floor.

Chris’ jaw dropped in amazement before he came to his defense. "What is so awful about Alfred Hitchcock and The Twilight Zone’s greatest?" He held up the two videos as he spoke. Rita just glared at him as she began dialing the number of a near by Chinese restaurant.

"Oh come on!!" Chris whined, deciding if simple reason wouldn’t win her over melodrama might. He moved to sit next to her on the couch, put his arm around her and lowered his voice to a deep, husky whisper. "Two classic scary movies, a dark and stormy night." As if on cue clap of thunder roared out side rattling their cozy little world. "It’s atmosphere to say the least Sam."

With every word he spoke a soft, warm breath fanned against her ear. Rita desperately tried to ignore the chills that he was causing to pulse like fire through every inch of her body. His last sentence had released a cavalcade of lustful fantasies that were erotic enough to shock even herself.

She hung up the phone after there was no answer and turned to look at her partner, who was now sitting dangerously close to her and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. She couldn’t help but smile at him. She gave him a shove in the chest, partly for the teasing and partly because being that close to him made her strangely nervous, and Chris fell over dramatically backwards. Rita re-cradled the phone on the coffee table as Chris stretched out, arms folded behind his head, his feet in her lap.

"Ya know Tai Ling’s isn’t gonna deliver in a storm like this." He stated mater-of-factually.

"Oh really and how do you know that’s who I was calling?" She quickly retorted, but Chris didn’t answer he just smiled at her knowingly.

"So this is what my life is reduced to," She said as she snatched one of the videos from the table and slipped it into the VCR. Unbeknownst to her, Chris’ eyes were following her every move. Like a predator stalking it’s prey, he mapped in his mind the way her jeans wrapped around every inch of her ass like a second skin. The way her T-shirt clung delicately to the curve of her breast. When she pulled that full bottom lip into her mouth and begin to nibble it lightly, he could literally feel the blood rushing through his veins. God, his fingers ached just to touch her, not to mention another particular body part.

"sitting at home on a Saturday night..." Rita continued. "and watching cheesy old movies, with you." She sat back down and curled herself into a comfortable little ball and grabbed the remote. Chris snapped back to reality once her words began to sink in.

"Sam!!" Chris sat up as he spoke, partly because he was surprised at her comment and partly because it was just safer that way. "You hurt me!" Rita’s only response to him was a playfully challenging grin.

"You know," Chris continued. "I have been told by many women that I am delightful company."

"Ok then." Rita smiled "If you are such ‘delightful’ company, where, may I ask, is this tremendous onslaught of women hmmmm?"

Chris’ eyes narrowed at her sarcasm. He had just opened his mouth, ready with the perfect come back, when the phone rang.

"I guess that must be them now." Rita teased as she picked up the phone. Chris' open mouth closed, and transformed into a pout as his partner answered.

"Hello.....yes...." Chris listened to her half of the conversation and watched the smile fade from her face. This couldn’t be good. "You can’t send Stevens or O’Neal?......No, no......we’ll be there in ten."

Before she had even hung up the phone Chris knew what lay ahead.

 

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By the time they arrived, the storm had been reduced to a misty drizzle, however the gale winds and heavy, looming clouds were nothing less than foretelling. The pale blue and slightly rusted Charger came to a rattling halt near the scene. Sgt. Kelly watched as the two homicide detectives as they exited the vehicle. His demeanor chilled the instant he saw the male half of the duo. A smug grin formed across his lips as he approached them.

"'Bout freakin' time Lorenzo." Vince stated as Chris and Rita approached him. "What happened? This piece of shit break down on you again?" Vince tilted his head towards Chris' car which now had a thin stream of smoke seeping from under the hood.

"Kelly man, you better have a damn good reason for calling us out on a night like this." Chris stated, ignoring Vince's comment. Sgt. Kelly's eyes narrowed and Chris' did the same as the two evenly matched detectives silently sized each other up.

"Oh I got a reason." Vince's response was given in a low, cool, and almost mocking tone that sent fire through Chris' veins. The look of contempt that clouded Chris' eyes as Vince turned and began to walk away did not go unnoticed by his partner. Rita wanted to question him on the matter but figured he would explain later, so she let it go. Chris and Rita followed Vince to the gurney where the body now lay. Vince circled around to the opposite side and silently pulled back the bright plastic sheet.

"Oh my God." Rita gasped when she saw the body. She let her eyes slip shut for a moment, and allowed herself a few deep breaths. She had been a homicide detective for a long time but nothing in all her years of experience could have prepared her for the sight which she now beheld. The body of an obviously young woman lay before them desecrated and disfigured nearly beyond recognition. What once could have been a long mane of golden curls was now a matted entanglement of blood and hair. Dark brown eyes which once could have sparkled with life now remain cold, frozen open, the fear and pain still present within. And if beauty was once present on that face, it is long sense disappeared, replaced by a mass of hideous bruises and cuts so deep they touch bone. Rita forced herself to look away, her eyes that slowly came up to meet Vince's, asked all the questions her voice could not.

"Her name is Lia Paterson," Vince began solemnly as he recovered the body. "Age 26."

"What the hell happened here Kelly?" Chris managed to ask through the lump that was quickly forming in his throat.

"Lia is...." Vince stopped short, and took a deep breath before he continued. "was a private investigator. She was helping me on this case I've been trying to crack for the past six weeks. A few nights ago I thought we had a break but now..." He trailed off leaving the last sentence unfinished, it was just as well, what they had just seen had spoken more than enough.

"But that doesn't explain what you're doin' in Palm Beach. I thought you were still workin' Vice up in Tampa." Chris stated as he rested his hand on his side arm, a common habit of his.

"For the past six weeks I've been tracking this serial rapist, Lia makes victim number five. He prays on young women he finds in dance clubs. This guy is really slick. He comes across as this high class talent scout who's just looking to make some girl's dream come true. He lures them into his lair with promises of movie deals or modeling contracts, and once he gets them home he drugs them, rapes them, and God only knows what else. But he's never killed before. Lia and I were hoping to get him before he turned homicidal." Vince took one last look at the body as he said this, then the three of them began to make their way back to where their cars were parked.

"How were you planning on doing this?" Rita asked when they reached Chris' car.

"We had received a tip that the killer was moving to the Palm Beach area, so we wanted to wrap this up before it crossed jurisdiction. Lia volunteered to go in undercover to some of the local clubs. She fit the profile perfectly, young, attractive, she even had that air of innocence that this guy goes for."

"So what happened, did it go bad?" Rita probed further.

"No. Lia was never even approached up until now I just figured we had gotten a bad tip."

"What changed your mind?"

"This." Vince stated as he handed an envelop to Chris. "It was pinned to Lia's dress when they found her." Chris opened the note and stared at it for a moment. There were six simple words that pieced together an entire puzzle:

 

THIS ONE'S FOR U KELLY.

GOTCHA!!

"He made you." Chris stated.

"Yeah, don't ask me how." Vince sighed, but then his tone became more serious. "The bottom line is this guys, I can't catch this guy on my own, I need your help. Now I need to know, are you in, or you out?" Vince knew he wouldn't even have to ask.

"I'm in." Rita stated confidently. "Definitely." She turned to her partner expecting the same zealous response, but was surprised to see a hesitant look in his eyes. In the four years Rita had known her best friend never once had she seen him back down, from work or any thing else. And now, he seemed to be unsure. It was a sight that was no less than troubling

Chris had barely heard Rita's answer. The words Vince had spoken kept echoing through his mind. They had surfaced a cloud of nostalgia, of a time too long ago, and too painful to remember.

"Yeah, I'm in too." Chris agreed slowly "But let's get a few things strait Kelly," he continued, his voice taking on an air of superiority as he did so, "You're not in Tampa any more, this is my jurisdiction. I call the shots." Chris was standing with his arms folded in front of him, just waiting for a confrontation. Vince Kelly was not one to back down from a challenge.

"You can call all you want Lorenzo." he took a step closer so that he was right in Chris' face, then lowered his voice to a harsh whisper. "This is my case, don't forget how replaceable you are."

They were standing eye to eye, each looking like he was ready to tare the other apart: arm muscles clinched and jaws set and locked. All Rita could do was watch the two bulls butt heads. With any luck this case would be wrapped up soon and without too much blood loss between them. Why did she get the feeling she was hoping for a miracle.

 

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The double doors of the Palm Beach Homicide Division swung open as Chris made a last ditch effort to only be thirty minutes late for work. He stopped short however, when he spotted, not twenty feet away, Vince seated ever so nicely on the corner of his partner's desk. Rita was in her usual seat with an open file and Vince had just leaned over, a bit more than needed, to read it. Chris had half expected this sort of behavior from Sgt. Kelly, but the fact that he was sitting in his spot, leaning too close to his Rita, made his stomach churn all the same.

"So nice of you to join us Sam." Rita commented with a smile when she saw Chris approaching.

"Hey. Traffic was hell this morning." Chris said as he ran his fingers through his slightly dampened hair. "The rain didn't help much either."

"Uh huh." Was Rita's only response, it was accompanied by a knowing smile. His car had broken down, again.

"Is that the autopsy report?" Chris inquired as he took the file from Vince's hands. Vince hesitated a moment before answering, and Rita could sense the tension in the room climbing.

" Uhh...Yeah." Vince's answer came out slowly and calmly but the underlying hostility was still notable. Rita was more than a little grateful Vince let that small occurrence slide. She made a mental note to question her partner on his behavior later.

"So what do we got?" Chris kept his eyes on the file as he spoke.

"The usual sick twisted shit we get from this guy." Vince stated in disgust as he stood and began to pace the floor. That got Chris' attention. He looked up from the file, and to Rita for an answer.

"She was raped," Rita began slowly as she leaned back in her chair. "Several times. There's no way to tell, but the M.E. suspects penetration from foreign objects as well." She stopped and took a deep breath before attempting to go on. "Also the....ahh...." Her voice faltered slightly and Vince picked up where she left off.

"The cuts, especially the ones on her face," Vince ran his index finger from his ear down his jaw line, mimicking the lacerations on the victim's face. "they were all precision made, not random. So was the removal of her hair and fingernails."

Chris just nodded, temporarily unable to speak as he took in all the information.

"It's just like with all the other victims." Vince continued. "He tries to make an example out of them, to get his message across."

"What's that?" Chris finally asked.

"I'm not sure yet."

Chris closed the folder and took his spot on the edge of Rita's desk. "Last night, you said this guy had never killed before right?"

"Yeah."

"So what about the other four victims, can't they give us any information."

"We should be so lucky. Victims number two and three are both in a coma. Victim four," Vince sighed as he ran his hand over his face and forced himself to continue. "The brain damage was so severe, she can barely remember her own name, let alone her attacker's."

"But what about the first girl?" Rita asked. At this Vince went silent. His brow furrowed, and his arms folded as he once again began to pace the floor.

"Her name is Jessica Felder. She was lucky enough to escape this bastard with survivable injuries. The first time I went to see her, after the attack, she wouldn't even speak to me. Last time I talked to her was about two weeks ago, even then she was too afraid to give me any thing to go on."

"So is she still in Tampa?" Rita inquired further.

"No, after the attack she moved back to West Palm Beach to stay with her parents. Why?"

"Because, " Rita said as she rose form her seat. "I think it's time to make a trip to see her."

 

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The three detectives made there way through the dimly lit parking garage. They had nearly reached the car when Rita felt a hand wrap around her arm.

"Hold on a second Sam." Her partner spoke in a hushed voice, as if he was trying to hide something.

"What's up?" She stopped and turned to face him as Vince continued walking ahead.

"How....umm...how are we gonna decide who rides in the back seat?"

"You're kidding me." Rita smiled but saw in his expression she was only half right. It was dark in the garage, but a sliver of pale flaxen light cut clearly across his eyes. There was something different there. She had seen it last night, and earlier in the office. It was completely foreign to her. Distant. It scared her. She tilted her head to one side in attempt to find some sort of explanation. As if he had read her mind, Chris averted his eyes to some point on the floor, and began to step away. Rita's eyes narrowed at this and she took a step forward, deliberately invading his space.

"Whats going on here Sam?" Her voice willed him to meet her gaze, and he did.

She looked so worried. Her green eyes shown like emeralds in the vague light, and there were two things Chris saw there. Concern, and, something else. What was it? Chris suddenly felt his heart leap into his throat. His entire body went still and he was caught mid-breath as she placed a small hand in the center of his chest. Over his heart ironically. How could she not know it was hers. She slid her hand gently across his chest, and Chris was positive that every nerve in his body had ignited. He could feel his muscles tense under her gentle assault, as his breath grew more shallow. When his reaction began to quickly spread southward, he was more than a little thankful she was looking into his eyes, rather than other places. How could one woman affect him like this, render him utterly paralyzed with nothing more than a simple touch. He opened his mouth to speak but her voice came first.

"Chris what is it?" The sound washed over him, drowning him. Completely engulfing him so that he was aware of nothing but her. Her eyes, her voice, her delicate hand on his chest. How could he tell her? How could he expose her to something so awful when he knew he couldn't protect her because it still haunted him. Demons.

So awful. So long ago. So very, long ago.

"It's nothing Sammy, really." He lied. He hated lying, especially to her, but was else was he to do. He could only hope his voice didn't sound as shaky as he thought it did.

She knew he was lying. Whenever he added "realy" on the end of his sentences he was lying. It was a rarity that Chris hid things from her, but he was doing that now, and she hated it.

"Are you sure?" She decided to give him one last chance.

"Yeah partner." He smiled. God damn him he had to smile. That charming grin she knew belonged to her and to her alone. He placed his hand over the one she rested on his chest, and Rita was sure he could hear her heart pounding in her chest. She sure as hell could. He brought her hand gently, briefly to his lips. She cursed the flush of red she knew had to be forming on her cheeks. She cursed his mouth for being so soft, so warm. And she cursed the fact that for some reason, she was having trouble breathing. Damn him!!!

"Come on." Chris said as he released her hand. "Don't wanna keep Sgt. Kelly waiting." He walked past her in the direction of their car. Rita lingered behind, attempting to focus her scatted thoughts; on their case and what to do about her partner.

 

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The rain had subsided, and it was a little past noon when they reached West Palm. The problem that had arisen earlier was solved quite easily. Chris had taken his own car. The Felder residence lay in the heart of the small suburban community just outside the city. Driving through the quiet streets, bordered by white picket fences and perfectly tailored lawns, one could only imagine how an event as terrible as rape could have shattered such a tranquil little world.

Vince knocked on the door of the small, teal-trimmed white house. There was the sound of several locks being turned before the door cracked open, still held to its frame buy a metal chain.

"What's goin' on?" The young girl asked through the small opening the door provided. Her voice was timid, fearful.

"Jessica, we need to talk to you, its important." Vince's tone emulated that of the girl's. Without question the door closed, and reopened a second later, this time fully. A girl of about 19 stood in the threshold, clad in oversized sweats, still dawning the bandages her attacker had forced upon her. A spray of freckles graced her nose and her chestnut locks were cut short, hanging in a fragile disarray before her eyes.

"Who are you?" Dark brown pools flickered over Vince's shoulder to meet Chris and Rita.

"I'm Sgt Lance, this is my partner Sgt. Lorenzo, Palm Beach PD. We're helping Sgt. Kelly on this case." The girl nodded and stepped back, allowing the three of them to enter.

"It's happened again, hasn't it?" Jessica stated as she leaned back against the door. Her voice remained calm, but her expression told otherwise. She looked pale, almost sickly, and her eyes, dark with something almost indescribable...fear, no. It wasn't fear, nor was it pain. It was almost as if the life had been drained from her very being, and all that remained were the dark hollows of nothingness. The shadows of death.

"I'm afraid so." Vince sighed "You're the only one who can end this Jessica."

"I can't..." the girl shook her head slowly as her hand came up to grace the bandage above her left eye.

"Yes you can, you have too." Rita edged her on. "You need to tell us what you remember." Jessica sighed and walked past them, through the foyer, to the living room. She sat on the sofa, her small form contrasting against the large dark cushions. She let out another ragged breath as she held her head in her hands and spoke.

"I remember more now." She looked up through a curtain of auburn bangs as the three detectives approached.

"What? What do you remember?" Vince questioned as he crouched down in front of her. His voice was soft, but still scrutinizing.

"I...I, remember the things he said when he was..." Her voiced hitched in a small sob, and her face once again returned to her hands.

"It's Ok." Rita said softly as she placed a comforting hand on the girl's shoulder. "You can stop if its too difficult."

"No.." Jessica sniffed and wiped her eyes with the back of her bandaged hand. "I remember he kept saying 'Things are gonna be different now' and 'Now its your turn to see how it feels'. I didn't realize what he meant until I woke up in the hospital." She sniffed again and this time cleared her throat.

"Is there any thing else you can remember?" Chris asked gently.

"Yes. His eyes...his nose, his mouth...I remember him." Her voice was a little shaky.

"You remember his face?" Chris asked and the girl nodded. "Do you think you can describe him for a police sketch artist?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Hell, we can do better than that," Vince began, but no sooner had he spoken than the phone rang. Jessica excused her self into the adjoining room to answer it, leaving the three detectives alone.

"What do you mean 'we can do better than that' ?" Chris questioned once he was sure the girl couldn't hear.

"What I mean is," Vince began as he stood, his voice taking on a cocky tone. "we don't have to settle for some hit-or-miss composite."

"What the hell are you talkin' about?" Chris' tone began to imitate Vince's. He took a few steps forward, his eyes narrowing as he did so.

"I'm talking about having her ID this bastard in person." By his last word Chris was no more than a foot away from him.

"What? Vince, you can't be serious!" Rita cut in.

"He's outta his fuckin' mind." Chris added under his breath.

"What was that Lorenzo?" The words tore from his throat in a harsh whisper.

"Just back off, both of you." Rita attempted again but soon realized her efforts were in vain.

"You heard me." Chris spat back.

"You'll never fuckin' learn, will you Chris? You're still that same scared cock-sucker they stuck me with eight years ago." At that instant, the storm burst. The moment the words were out, Chris' patience snapped. In one swift move he reeled back and cast a blow that landed squarely on Vince's jaw. Vince staggered back, but only momentarily. Soon he was coming at Chris with full force. He managed to land a punch precisely on Chris' lip before Rita got between the two of them.

"That's enough!" She stated forcefully through teeth that were clenched tight in anger. "What the hell is with you two!" She turned to Vince first, who was rubbing his jaw and backing away slowly.

"Ask your partner." He said before lowering himself to the sofa. Rita did just that, but not with words. Her eyes met her best friend's in a look of anger and confusion.

Chris averted his eyes immediately. He shook his head as he dabbed at the blood that was now flowing

from the side of his mouth. "I don't need this." His voice was cold, spiteful, and without another word he turned and began to walk towards the foyer. His hand had just touched the door handle when another gripped his shoulder, forcing him to turn around.

"Don't even try to walk away from this." Rita tried to keep her voice stern but she couldn't stop the non too subtle hint of distress from showing through. Chris just slowly shook his head as he gazed at some point in the distance.

"Chris..." Her voice was frail now and her concern was more than evident, but he still did not speak. He simply placed a hand on her arm before turning and walking out the door.

 

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Eight years ago the world seemed a very different place. People were in the midst of a totally different era that paralleled with the present in only two basic, primal respects; The first was the game, which simply was and remains, "Survival of the fittest". The second is man's ever persistent, antagonizing opponent in that game....fear.

The air was forewarning on that unusually cool September night. It hung thick with an essence of uncertainty and anticipation. The still of the Palm Beach darkness was shattered by the unmistakable rhythm of footsteps pounding against concrete.

"Vince!!! Hold it man!!" Chris yelled into the night, and was answered as he came face to face with his partner.

"Come on Lorenzo!! We can take this guy!!" Vince stated as he drew his side arm defiantly. The cool night air made his words visible, emphasizing them all the more.

"Damn it!! Are you high or something, we just got shot at!! Number-one rule, we wait for back up!" Young officer Lorenzo shook his head as he spoke, a futile attempt to clear his racing mind. He breathed in the chilled air as he tried to catch his breath and slow his pounding heart.

"Don't fuckin' give me that "by-the-book" bull shit Chris!!" Vince too breathed in the harsh night air, but it only seemed to fuel his intensity. "This is our only shot and I'm taking it. Now I need to know, you in......or you out?"

Those five words echoed through his mind just as they had done the night before. Chris leaned back in his chair and stared blankly into the open case file. It was happening again. Things were spiraling out of his control, and for the life of him, he couldn't figure out a way to stop it. Chris closed the file, then his eyes, and leaned forward against his desk as images, that were nearly a decade old, flashed clearly before him. Cold. So cold. So much blood.

"Sgt. Lorenzo!" A voice from behind him snapped Chris back to the present.

"Huuh, what?" Chris turned to see another officer standing behind him.

"You have a call on line two Sgt." She nodded her head, indicating the phone on the corner of his desk.

"Oh... thanks Larkin." Chris responded quickly, and Officer Larkin nodded once more and continued on her way. Chris picked up the phone and hesitantly answered, attempting to prepare himself for chewing out he had so rightfully earned. "Lorenzo."

"Chris its me." Rita said as she leaned against the car and cradled her cell-phone to her ear. She looked up at the sky. Dark, menacing clouds rolled over head as a faint rumble of thunder sounded in the distance.

"Whats goin' on." Chris cleared his throat, hoping his partner would avoid the obvious topic of conversation. Luck must have been on his side.

"I'm still at the Felder's, we're waiting on the sketch artist. When he gets here I'm gonna head back and see if I can't get a hold of some of the M.E. reports on the other girls. Vince is gonna bring the sketches back and I guess we can go from there."

"Ok, what do you say we meet up at my place to go over everything." Chris suggested, feeling a little more at ease. That soon ended, and an uneasy feeling arose in the pit of his stomach when he didn't get an answer from her. Luck had just switched teams.

Rita opened the car door and sat behind the steering wheel. She looked blankly for a moment at the small random, drops of rain that were beginning to strike the windshield. She sighed and leaned her head back into the soft leather of the seat. What was making things so wrong, and why couldn't she fix them? She and Chris had always been close, even from the beginning, four years ago. There was never anything they couldn't talk about.

But now, he had stopped talking. He had walked away.

She was not going to cry, she couldn't cry, at least not now.

"Sammy?" The cautious voice of her partner pulled her from her thoughts.

 

"What?" She was surprised at how shaky her voice sounded.

"Look, if meeting at my place is gonna be a problem..." Chris began, once he noticed the faltering in her voice.

"No..no that's fine." Rita cut him off. She cleared her throat and blinked back the tears that were forming in her eyes. "You want me to bring food or some thing." She purposely lightened her voice, hoping this would mask her temporary lapse of composure.

Chris instantly relaxed at her now, less vulnerable tone. "Whatever's fine, something greasy." From this he got a small laugh from her and that lightened his mood.

"Ok I'll tell Vince to meet us around six, that sound Ok."

"Sure great. See ya then." Chris hung up after receiving her traditional "see ya" and glanced at the clock over the double doors. It was a little past 3:30.

 

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Slowly it began to take shape. Slowly the face of malevolence itself arose from the ashen page, bringing with it all the hellish glory the charcoal tip would allow.

Dark eyes, dark and menacing. As if the lids were weighted down by every burden of enmity in existence. A nose, thin and pointed, leading to lips fixed in a sneer, mocking all who dare contest his will. Sinister would describe his expression. Sinister was the appearance of the man who had come into the lives of so many and left them all in shambles. Destroyed.

Man. In gazing upon that image, it was evident he did not deserve the honor of that term. No, not a man. Nor beast. In those eyes, in that face lay something beyond the reign of all humanity. Beyond anything of this earth. Deep within lay the darkest reaches of the soul.

Within is everything sinful. Within is everything demonic. Within is everything evil. Within, everything dies.

Vince was positive he was staring into the eyes of Satin himself. A cold shiver ran down his spine and he could feel the small beads of sweat forming on his upper lip. This was who killed his partner and thought it was a game. This was the one who had killed him that same night and thought it was a game. He swallowed hard as he let his eyes drag over the black and white draft, burning the every detail into his mind. It was his turn to play the game.

"Will that be Ok sir?" The sketch artist's voice tore through Sgt. Kelly's ethereal trance. He looked into the eyes of the young officer standing next to him, then back to the sketch. He then turned and walked towards the door, uttering two words as he left the room.

"It'll do."

 

===========================================================================

The rich, earthy smell of virgin rain hung heavily in the air. A gushing wind whipped fiercely through tresses of deep sienna as Rita approached the steps of her partners downtown apartment building. It had taken her a full two hours to drive from West Palm in the pouring rain, all the while trying to convince the good doctors at St. Andrew's Mercy Hospital to fax her the medical reports of the other four rape victims. Thankfully she had been successful in her task, but now another lay ahead. One that promised to be more grueling and arduous than the one before.

Rita had intentionally arrived almost an hour prior to the time she told Vince to meet them. She was determined to get Chris to open up. This was despite the cautious voice in the farthest corner of her mind warning her to beware that which is hidden. Curiosity had killed the cat, after all. Rita knocked on the door to Chris' loft. She took a cleansing breath in effort to push the voice that had suddenly come to the forefront, back into the shadows. She reviewed her plan of action; no small talk, go directly to the point. She only hoped to be so lucky.

The moment he had heard the knock Chris knew who was behind the door. He had suspected this, anticipated it even. It was her. The woman who had been his best friend for so many years. The one who occupied the majority of his thoughts, all of his dreams. Rita knew him better than any one, and he could proudly speak the same about her. But then, there were secrets that she didn't even know, that she couldn't know. He closed the file he had been pretending to read for the past hour, and tossed it on the kitchen counter when she knocked a second time. He plastered a smile on his face as he crossed the expanse of the loft and opened the door.

God-damn it she was gorgeous. Her hair was damp and tasseled, and she looked mad as hell, but Chris was positive he had never seen a more arousing vision in his life. The smile he had forced across his lips fell instantly as two pools of deep green fire locked on to him. Chris took a step back as he tried to force the idea of pushing her up against the door and fucking her brains out right then and there, out of his mind. She walked past him then, brushing ever so lightly against him as she did so, her gentle fragrance floating up to enrage his already heightened senses. Heaven help him. Chris cleared his throat and closed the door.

"You're early." He stated as evenly as he could possibly manage.

She turned to face him then. His demeanor was cool, and his voice sounded nonchalant, but she could sense the anger, the hostility, laying in wait just below the surface. It was a very difficult expression to read. The bright orange jacket he had dawned earlier was gone, as was the florescent tie and button down shirt. They were replaced by a simple white T-shirt and a pair of old dingy looking jeans. He folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against the door as he waited for her response. Rita could literally feel his eyes as they traveled down her body. She could feel the places where they stopped and lingered, before moving on, and her skin actually ached for his hands to do the same. His eyes finally came up to meet her's and they were dark. Very dark. No longer the cool blue she was so familiar with, but a deep indigo she had only seen once or maybe twice before. The thought of the times, and the situations where she had seen that look from him made her breath become suddenly short, almost labored. She swallowed hard as she watched him push away from the door and silently step towards her. His movements, hell his body, seemed to radiate something ancient, primal. She could feel her heart pounding fiercely in her chest as the tingle in her skin increased to a near burning sensation. It took about every shred of self control she had to keep her raging hormones at bay. Damn him he was doing it again!!

Rita managed to keep her eyes on her partner as he approached. "I know." She said, not really sure how she was able to speak. She took a deep breath and forced herself to focus. "We need to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about Sam." Chris kept his voice low, attempting to hide the mixture of frustration and arousal that lay within. He took one last step forward, bringing him only about a foot away from her.

"The hell there isn't Chris." Rita was not about to be intimidated. She looked him strait in the eye as she spoke. "You're keeping something from me."

"I don't know what you're talkin' about Rita." He walked past her, back to the kitchen. He was determined to dodge every question she threw out, he could keep this up for an hour or so, no problem.

Rita turned to see him leaning against the counter, flipping aimlessly through a file. He was avoiding her questions. It was tactic that worked in the past, on minor issues, but not on this. Something was seriously wrong. She walked over and stood in front of him.

"It's not gonna work this time." She stated. Chris looked up from the file and at her. He knew that look, and he knew there was no way out of this. He sighed and placed the file back on the counter.

"What do you want to know?" His voice was calm, monotone.

"Everything. Everything that happened between you and Vince." Rita folded her arms in front of her.

"No you don't Rita." His voice was still even, without emotion. The indifference of his tone was starting to get to her. She began to pace, back and forth in front of him.

"Chris..." She began but he quickly cut her off.

"Rita, I really don't want to go into this with you." His voice suddenly became cold, and it stopped Rita dead in her tracks. His words, as they began to register, cut like a knife. Deep. She turned to face him, slowly, attempting to hide the fact that she had just had her heart ripped out of her chest. The pain she felt was quickly replaced by anger when she came to face him again. He was just standing there. Like before, arms folded, the weight of his body supported by the counter. Her jaw clinched tight and she could literally feel her blood pressure rising.

"How can you say that?" Her statement was choppy and she had to force the words out through the lump that had begun to form in her throat. Chris could see the pain in her eyes, and it was almost more than he could bear. It wasn't supposed to be this way. It was all he could do to turn away from her. He leaned against the counter, his head hung low between his shoulders. He made himself speak.

"I don't want to go into it so just drop it Ok!" The words were spat out with force, maybe more than he had intended. Where was all this animosity coming from! Rita couldn't understand it. What all-powerful, immaculate, holier-than-thou god gave him the right to shut himself off from the rest of the world. She wasn't the one who walked away! She wasn't the one keeping the secrets!! What right did he have to be angry with her!!

"I will NOT drop it!!" She took hold of his shoulder, roughly, and forced him to face her.

"God-Damn it Rita!!" He jerked his arm away from her, causing her to stumble back a few steps. Chris quickly closed the distance in one. "Why do you have to push so damn hard?!! Tell me why!!" He towered over her petite form, and was no more than a few inches away. His voice was ruthless, almost vindictive. Rita refused to let that threaten her. Now he was just being an ass hole.

"'Cause you're my partner!!" She shoved him back as hard as he could and Chris stumbled back into the counter. His retreat was only momentary, a second later he was once again in her face. He quickly took hold of her upper arms, gripping them tightly, and jerking her small form viciously against his own. Demanding her body to react to his. Needing her to react to him.

A gasp of total shock escaped Rita's lips as she suddenly found herself pressed firmly against his solid, unyielding body. In one swift motion he reeled them both around forcing her, pinning her back, hard against the counter. She attempted to speak, some form of protest, but her words were instantly caught in her throat when she looked up at him, his expression was fierce as were his words.

"What in God's name makes you think you can just demand answers from me." He had stopped yelling and his voice was now a harsh, chilling whisper. Rita held his gaze, forcing herself to stare through the blue ice that was being cast down upon her. Her fists clinched as she tried to push away from his grasp, but this only made him hold on tighter. Chris was obviously out of control, and she decided it was time for her to take charge.

"I wouldn't have to 'demand' anything if you would just talk to me." She kept her voice low, scarcely above a whisper. His body was pressed full length against her own and she was pinned against the kitchen counter. She could feel his chest rise and fall with each breath he took, each breath that was fanning hotly against her hair. Each breath that seemed to draw her own directly from her lungs. She forced her voice again, but it was barely audible.

"These secrets are gonna tare us apart Sam." It was more a plea than any thing. At this, Chris loosened his hold on her but he didn't give up an inch of space between them. He could feel her heart beating against, maybe even consistent with his own. It was happening again. He was drowning in her voice. His heart ached, awash in the sound of it. Why couldn't she be mad at him? Why couldn't she just hate him, just walk away and never look back? He shut his eyes for a moment, attempting to ignore the distracting fact that her body, her soft, needing body, was molding to fit his own. He couldn't hurt her. He couldn't love her.

"Don't you think I know that Sam." His voice was a mere breath against her ear. He wouldn't hurt her.

"Then why won't you tell me what's wrong?" Chris kept his eyes closed as her words, her plea, seemed to swallow him completely. This woman he held was his entire life. He reason for being. She was so close but he could feel her slipping away. Chris wanted to hold tighter, wanted to keep her there. He wanted to love her. But he wouldn't hurt her. He shook his head slightly as his words came in a faint whisper.

"I can't." He saw her eyes cloud with tears the moment he had spoken. She was gone. He had let her slip the final few inches and now she was gone. This realization came crashing down on Chris and scared him like nothing had ever before. The words spilled from his lips again and again, but in silence. He had to get her back. He wasn't supposed to want her, to love her, but he did, and he needed her back. Then his mouth descended upon her's. It was chaste, gentle at first. But then, all at once, it became something more. Something hot, intense, something fueled by years of suppressed longings, suppressed desires.

Chris released her arms then and took her face in his hands, pulling her mouth harder against his, and letting his fingers slip through the curls of silken mahogany he had for so long adored. He deepened the kiss. Running his tung along her full, swollen, lips he willed her mouth to open to him, and it did. It was more than Chris could ever imagine, ever dream; hot, wet, intense, and so many other things his mind couldn't attempt to perceive them all. He didn't care. There was only one word he could process and that was all he needed. More. More of her mouth, more of her skin, more of her. He had never wanted any thing so badly. It took every ounce of self control he had to keep himself still when she pulled away.

"Chris..." Rita spoke. Something about the way she said his name made him shudder with the promise of what was to come. They hadn't been apart for a whole three seconds when he began to miss the feel of her, the taste of her. He brought his lips gently to her forehead, tracing her hair line with a stream of soft, burning kisses. The sigh that was emitted from her throat, landed precisely on Chris' groin. He had never been so turned on in his life. He was actually making his partner moan. Needless to say his arousal was more than obvious. He dipped his head a little and once again sealed her lips with his own.

How in Gods name had they gotten to this point. Just a minute ago they were at each other's throats. Just a minute ago she was ready to beat the shit out of him, and now....now she was kissing him, and he was kissing her. Man was he kissing her. His mouth was so hot, and needy, desperate even. What little she had discovered earlier in the parking lot she now realized was just the tip of the ice burg. It was so deep. So deep and commanding, she couldn't keep from feeling helpless in his embrace. His hands seemed to be everywhere at once. The curve of her back, the side of her thigh, the inside of her thigh. It was like he was sending fire through her veins, with each burning touch sparking a new, more intense flame, and all fires radiating to the very depths of her. Where his hands couldn't reach his mouth took up the task. From the curve of her neck, to her collar bone, to her ear he kissed her slowly. The kind of kisses she had pined for, hungered for, for far too long.

It sent chills through her body, the thought of how bad she wanted him, needed him. It literally made her body tremble with desire. He had been there for so long. He has her rock, her strength, her everything. He was her survival. How could she have ever dreamed that things falling apart would bring them together. It wasn't supposed to happen like this though. They weren't supposed to be holding on just to keep from slipping away. They weren't supposed to be holding on out of anger, or pain, or fear. She wanted to stop him, bells, sirens and every other possible alarm were all screaming in the back of her mind, but it just felt so good. The fact that he was now sliding his hands further up her skirt, the fact that he was now gnawing on her ear like an animal, and the fact that she was loving every minute of it was damn near frightening. Somehow she found her voice, it sounded distant to even her own ears.

"Chris..." His name was no more than a breath that fell from her lips. She could feel his body pressing hard against her, and knew if she didn't stop this now, neither of them would be able to.

"I want you so bad Rita." His words were spoken against her lips and the pure intensity of them made her weak in the knees.

"We shouldn't be doing this." Rita spoke again, but her voice must have still been some where far away, because Chris didn't seem to hear it. Long, skillful fingers quickly worked the pair of buttons on her suit jacket and the bright teal garment lay crumpled on the floor seconds later. His hands then moved to the front of her blouse but she stilled them with her own.

"Sam," She whispered as her eyes met his. They were dark again, wide with awe and clouded with desire. "We're not thinking strait here." She took a deep breath and desperately tried to ignore his hands which had once again begun to wander. "We don't need to do this." Her words were a lie, they had defied her heart. This was what she needed, he was what she needed. She couldn't lose him. She couldn't let him walk away.

She didn't mean it. Chris could see it in her eyes, hear it in her voice; she wanted this just as bad as he did.

"Rita," He murmured her name as he buried his face in her neck, and breathed in the sweet, almost intoxicating scent of her skin. His hands ran quickly down her sides to untuck the thin silk from her waist. Then, they were under her blouse, seeking, wanting desperately the feel of her velvety soft skin. His voice, when he spoke, was tight with arousal.

"This is what I need Rita." His hands rose higher, cupping the soft curve of her breast through it's lacy covering.

"Chris we can't." Rita could barely resist moaning the words as she felt Chris' other hand slide down her body, gripping her ass gently so he could grind his hips into her's.

"Tell me to stop..." His voice was thick, a deep rumble in the back of his throat. "Tell me that's what you want and I will." His eyes were locked with hers in a stare so intense, so fiery, the lakes of blackest hell paled in comparison.

The power of speech had left her almost completely. Rita couldn't utter a coherent sentence if her life depended on it. Not while is eyes were burning into hers, not while his mouth was hovering, waiting, just mere inches from her own. In some voice she didn't know she had two words broke through the impenetrable silence. "Don't stop."

It was music to his ears. Chris brought his mouth down to hers in an almost bruising kiss as in one swift movement he lifted her small frame, and sat her gently on the counter. Their mouths never parted as he eased her skirt further up her legs, spreading them wider, urging her closer. He heard her moan against his lips and he knew he was in heaven. Her hands, which were at one time locked around his neck had now begun their decent down his chest, his stomach, all the way to his waist. Rita broke away a little and Chris was forced to settle for the curve of her neck. He let her soft fragrance engulf him as he searched for the just the right place to kiss her. It wasn't until he felt the slow loosening of his zipper that he realized exactly what her hands were doing. Jesus Christ have mercy! This was, without a doubt, the most unbelievable moment in his life. Chris was positive he was going to wake up in bed at any moment with a pounding heart and stained sheets. Never had he dreamed they would come to this point.

His head fell back and his mouth opened in a silent moan as delicate fingers wrapped around him. Rita watched him carefully through eyes glazed with lust. He was like burning steel, his entire body hot, and unyielding. His mouth was moving, but his voice remained un-heard. She stroked him again, gently through his boxers. This time his response was audible. Her name. In a ragged, throaty voice, he moaned her name. The sound sent liquid fire pulsing through her. It was a deep rumble that made her entire body, her entire being, ache in desperate need. Need to for him to touch her, to kiss her, to have him buried inside her. Rita bit her lip in effort to stifle her own reaction when she heard him speak again.

"Sammy...." He breathed her name to the ceiling. His hands which had been resting for the past minute or two on her hips, slid up to capture her wrists and still her movements. "You're making me crazy..." Chris opened his eyes and looked at her for a brief moment before their mouths collided once again.

Rita's head was spinning. Everything seemed to be happening so fast. Within a time frame of half an hour her entire world had been narrowed completely. All she was aware of was him. His hands that were causing her body to react in ways she could have never imagined. His kisses that were pushing her closer and closer to the brink of insanity. All that existed was the two of them, and the fact that it was finally happening. After so many years of pretending, and suppressing, it was finally happening. But then, for a moment, there was something else. Something that seemed to penetrate this world which existed from all others. A sound. Rita pulled away from his mouth for a moment, her mind attempting identify the unwanted intrusion. But her partners hand was sliding up the inside of her thigh, teasing her with delicate caresses of pure fire, and focus became impossible. She found her voice, a deep, sultry whisper she barely recognized as her own.

"Chris wait..." She had intended to say more but Chris found the spot just below her ear, and the words died in her throat.

"Jesus Sammy! I've waited four years." His voice a mummer against her neck. Rita was about to give in but the sound rang out in her mind once again. Something was wrong.

"Chris..... Stop." Rita forced the words out and they hit Chris like a ton of bricks. He pulled away instantly and his hand stilled on her leg. His eyes searched hers desperately for signs of what had gone wrong.

"I-I'm sorry I.." Chris began to stammer an apology (for what he wasn't quite sure) but was silenced when gentle fingers covered his lips.

"It's not you." Rita whispered as she her mind searched desperately through the thick haze of desire for the words needed to communicate. "Some....Someone's at the door." Chris listened a moment and then he heard it. A knock, and then a voice.

"Hey guys it's me open up!!" Vince stood out side Chris loft with a stack of files tucked neatly under his arm, completely unaware of what was going on just a few feet away. He sighed in frustration and glanced quickly at his watch, it was ten 'till six. He was on time, and he was sure this was the address Rita had given him. Vince shifted the bundle of M.E. reports to the other arm. He had made it back from West Palm with the sketches and had just enough time to pick up the faxed-in hospital records from the station. He had done it with time to spare in fact, so what was keeping them.

"That damn Lorenzo." Vince muttered to himself. He rose his fist to pound on the door for what would be a fourth time when it abruptly opened.

"Vince! Hey, you're right on time!" Rita stood on the other side of the threshold. She was a picture of beauty, although, she did look a bit disheveled. Her hair was in a bit of a disarray and she looked a little flushed. Most likely a product of running in the rain Vince thought to himself. He walked in and handed half the stack of files to her. Then he saw Chris, he looked somewhat less together. He was standing behind the kitchen counter, maybe it wasn't standing. It was more like teetering from one foot to another. All the while his eyes seemed to be searching the room for something that was nonexistent. To sum it up he seemed, nervous.

"This is a great place you got here Lorenzo." Vince stated as he eyed Chris from across the room.

"Oh, thanks man." The words were mumbled, with Chris never really meeting Vince's gaze. "Are those the M.E. reports?" He nodded quickly towards the files Vince and Rita were holding. Chris thought it best to get on the topic of work as quickly as possible.

"Yeah, and the sketches too." The quick change in subject matter didn't go un-noticed by Vince, but he thought for the good of his already bruised jaw, just to go with the flow. It also didn't escape his attention that Rita had become strangely quiet. These facts in mind Vince figured small talk was out. "What do you say we get started then."

 

===========================================================================

The darkness is impenetrable. So black it seems it is everything, and everything is it. The eyes attempt to decipher it, but their effort is in vein.

Cold....

Cold as if the bones had turned to ice. Cold as if the lungs breath shared class, rather than air. So cold it seems it is everything, and everything is it. The bare, supple skin attempts to rebuke it, but its effort is in vein.

And her hands are tied. Tight; by something as cold as the air she breathes. Her mouth is gaged, so her voice becomes as worthless as her eyes. Her skin is bare. All of it. Exposed. And the darkness is impenetrable.

A sound. One, amidst the nothingness. It is repeated. A breath. Amidst the nothingness a breath. Life....or maybe death. The sound is ragged, harsh, and it cuts roughly through the darkness as it comes closer.

The heart beats faster.

Then there is a voice. So chilling that it by far surpasses that of the bones that were frozen, or the hands that are tied tight. It speaks words to terrorize the soul.

"Now it's your turn." Silence again. Darkness still.

She struggles but the body defies the mind with pain. So much pain.

A light. It bursts through the nothingness and the eyes strain to adjust. A thin stream of smoke arises from the birth of that which has slain the darkness, and the voice moves closer still. She struggles again and a whimper of pain is spawn from the back of her throat.

The voice speaks again. Her heart beats faster.

"You hold the face of a goddess; but your beauty runs no deeper than the skin. It's time to change, my love." Closer, faster. Silence returns.

Her nostrils flare to take in more of the frigid air. She sees a face. A face in the flicker of light that is held just inches before it. Not a whole face. A mouth. It is moving. Repeating something softly as it moves closer. Closer until she can feel the words, but not hear them.

A hot breath, like fire against her skin. Darkness reigns and two words are heard.

"Kiss me."

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That's all for now my darlings. Aren't we just awful!! This ain't it, part two will be up whenever we feel like sending it. Until then you'll just have to wait. HA HA!!!! Power truly does corrupt!! Now, seriously we have to gripe about all you dumb fucks out there writing those terrible pieces of crap that have the Sams hooking up with other people. Or what's worse, having them turn out to be brother and sister!!!! Get your heads out of your asses and quit writing that stuff!!! Ok, that's all. Bye bye now!! :-D

You know you still love us!!!

Dormies are boss baby!!


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