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There's certain things that just come along with the world of organized crime. Part and parcel of the deal are the clichés; every underling in a gang wants to be Scarface, Capone, Noriega, De Nero, or some character they've seen on TV. They forget that all of them ended up dead or in jail when the credits rolled - they just want to do the 'cool' stuff they saw in the films.

Thus there are the continuing clichés of the business; those classic tropes that never die, no matter how fucking stupid they are. And thus, my first thoughts when I wake up and find myself handcuffed with my hands behind my back to an old radiator in a run-down ancient apartment aren't "what's happening" or "oh no". They're "not this hackneyed bullshit again."

What happens next, though predictable, still takes me by surprise. That's when Marty wanders into the room. Mad-Man Marty, the Doberman from my former crime Family, is now standing over me with two random goons he picked up from a junkyard or dump somewhere. He's the first person I should have expected to see, and the last one to cross my mind until now.

"Mornin', Jackie-boy. You're lookin' exceptionally shitty today." He smirks as he looks down at me, and I can tell a part of him has been looking forward to this meeting for a while now. Probably been drooling over the idea since I left the Family 3 months ago.

"Bite me, Marty."

"Only if you ask nicely, ol' pal." He chuckles for a moment, then there's the feel of size 11 steel-toes colliding with my guts. I double over. I groan. I puke.

"Still kickin' the fuck... outta people who can't fight back?" I ask him between grunts, getting up as far as the chains will let me. "Cut me loose and let's see who the bigger dog is."

"Jack," the pincher says to me plainly, his arms folding across his barrel chest, "you know better. I'd slug it out with you if I had my choice. But this ain't about you an' me. Not no more."

I can't help feeling a mild relief - three months running and ducking makes you paranoid. As much as it sucks to be caught, at least I can stop looking over my shoulder and wondering when the shit would hit the fan.

Marty was now the fan. And tonight, I would be playing the role of shit.

"Y'know, while I got you here Jackie-boy..." he starts off, cracking his knuckles a bit, "I gotta ask you somethin'." He cups his hand under my chin, looking down at me with cold, semi-dead steel-colored eyes. This close, I can see the truth; the hurt, the anger, the sense of being betrayed. Me and Marty, we have a history. We joined the Gustaves Family at the same time. And since that time, we'd seen hell rain down from the skies, bodies mangled and burned, and every aspect of the true cruelty intelligent life-forms are capable of inflicting upon one another. It was a nightmare that never seemed to end. But at least, in the worst times, we'd had each other.

Then I bailed to be with Olivia and left Marty all alone. I can't help but feel a bit guilty. He has every right to hate me at this moment. Guess that's the real reason he was here. As his large fist collides with my face from almost point blank range, I can't help thinking:

This is my punishment.

Another right-hand blow. I try to move my head, but it's useless.

This is my penance.

He finally catches me with his left hook, his stronger arm. I feel the blood spew from my mouth. I feel my eye start to swell. The world around me fades in and out.

I deserve all of this for betraying you.

_ _ "For... For what it's worth, Marty," I manage out as he takes a breather between blows, "I really am sorry. I ditched ya... somethin' I'd promised I'd never do." I look at him through blurred eyes, hoping to see some semblance of forgiveness.

There is none.

"Bit late for that, Jackson."

He used my full first name. I'm fucked.

"Back to my question, though..." He wipes my blood off his hands with the larger goon's t-shirt. I forgot how scary Marty was to those little punks. "Did you actually think you were gonna get away? Did you really, somewhere in that thick fuckin' thing you call a skull..." he pauses, jabbing me in the most bruised side of the head with a finger for emphasis, "Expect you'd worm your way out? Did ya really think we wouldn't find you? That I wouldn't find you?"

Of course I had thought that. Olivia sold me easy on a pipe dream after a good lay. I honestly had thought they'd never catch up to us. Thought me and her could really run away and take on the world.

But a part of me had always expected this. Hell, I'd had nightmares that started off exactly like this. Marty standing over me putting on his brass knuckles, clacking them against each other... it was just like what I'd seen when I closed my eyes next to 'Liv on so many nights.

The throbbing pain in the right side of my jaw, however, tells me this is no dream. And it's about to get worse before it ever gets better.

I shut my eyes anyway.

Time ceases to mean shit to me after a while. All I know is this constant pain. Part of what made Marty such a great ally and ruthless opponent was exactly what he was doing to me right now. In a direct conflict, he was quick; most never saw him coming. But at times like this, Marty becomes calculating. He's methodical. He's picking me apart. Taking breaks when he sees me losing consciousness, to make sure I recover enough to feel every last blow. He changes up spots, too. Works one spot over good, then moves to another part of my body that's still fresh enough to suffer when he smacks me. The shoulders crack hard. Both sides of my face are throbbing, and I can almost guarantee my muzzle is broken in a few places. My lower ribs are cracked as fuck, but not pointing in.

No, no, that would be too easy for me. Marty wants me alive and suffering for a long, long time.

My eyes are so swollen... I can barely see the blood drooling from my slackened mouth.

"Y'know, Jackson..." he says after a while, giving his weapons to one of the runts for cleanup. "They say there's a special place in hell for traitors." He grips the back of my head, forcing me to look at him. He's making sure that he's close enough for me to see him through the swell and spatter. "And personally, I think that's too good for you, you sorry piece of shit."

"Do... what you want." The words slur horribly. It hurts so much to talk now. "Just leave... leave 'Liv... leave her outta this."

Then I hear the worst sound I've heard in a while. Marty's dead-man laugh. The special laugh that damned Doberman had in reserve for when someone was truly and utterly fucked, and had no real clue to just how fucked they were.

Beneath the bruises on my stomach, I feel dread bubbling up.

"You really are a trip, Jackie Boy..." he slows his laughing down a bit, slapping me across the face as he moves back from me slightly. "Here you are; beaten, bloodied, and most likely about to die. And you're spouting shit about protecting your bitch."

Stupid as it sounds, I lunge forward a bit. Hearing him call her a bitch fills me with venom. My arms are too sore to have much power behind them, but what I can manage rattles the radiator. I snarl. I thrash. I keep tugging.

He kicks my left leg and watches me buckle and flop on my face. I didn't even have time for a death threat.

"Ah, shut the fuck up, mutt." He turns away from me, and one of his pups hands him a cigarette like a good boy. "She's fine. In fact, she'll be here to see you soon." He blows out a puff of smoke and snaps his fingers. Heads for the door and the underlings follow.

I hope to God he's lying about her seeing me.

Time still means nothing, and my head spins like mad. I fade in and out, hot stinging anguish dancing through every part of my body. When I clear my head enough that I can think, all I think about is 'Liv. If I'll ever see her alive again, if she's really okay. If, if, fucking if. I tug at my restraints. My arms screech at me in pain. There's not much fight left in me, which is unfamiliar territory considering how long I've been fighting any and everything.

I'm sorry, Olivia.

Getting up is more than I can really process right now. My consciousness is no longer guaranteed, and my bruised, cracked skull feels heavier by the second. As I look down, I notice the blood staining the floor is spreading. I'm still bleeding.

I couldn't protect you.

Moving at all, just breathing, is agony. Every nerve ending from my waist up is joining a chorus from Hell, and I'm too weak from blood loss to really use anything below my belt line. There's a very real chance I could die like this. Maybe if I die, 'Liv will be safe.

That's right, Kitten. Forget about me.

_ _ I manage a half-assed smile. I can see her jogging to the train station when we left town, looking over her shoulder for a moment to smile and me and encourage me to catch up to her. She looked so beautiful... so happy... so free.

Stay free, 'Liv. Stay Free. Forget about me and keep running.

I know that's wishful thinking. She's too gentle. Too big hearted. Too loyal. She won't leave without me. She won't stop looking for me. And when she tries to find me-

No.

I dig my shoes in as much as I can on the crimson-slickened floor and push back against the radiator. It's old, but solid. Not an inch budges.

Can't let her do this. Can't let her get caught because of me.

_ _ Another push backward. My shoulders are crumbling under the pressure. The pain is blinding. And then... I hear a creak.

Can't quit now, you stupid dog.

I keep slipping in my own blood. My vision is a darkening haze. Every slam backwards shoots through my entire battered body like pulses of electricity. But the creaks are getting louder.

Don't give out on me now, Body. We gotta get loose. Gotta save her...

I can feel the radiator start to sway a bit against my efforts. She's wobbling. I'm getting through.

Then the door at the end of the room opens.

Fuck.

Marty's back. Brought the Twit Twins with him, along with another familiar face; Davis from the processing department. Dirty Davis, a hunched-over opossum and the creepiest fuck I've ever worked with. Chemistry nerd who joined the mob. This rodent spends his days creating new street drugs and making the old ones more potent.

And his only 'hobby' was testing his new 'medicines' on unsuspecting women to get his rocks off from their reactions. If he's here...

"Whu... What the hell's goin' on?" I manage with no small effort. I'm gargling with my own blood now. Jaw feels like it wants to fall off.

"Just a little experiment, Jack..." Davis assures me, that shitty mouse-grin crossing his face. Whatever he's got up his sleeve is sick, perverted and twisted. And I can already guess who his 'test subject' is.

My nose is caked with my own blood. My senses have all been dulled. But the scent I pick up next is unmistakable. It's her. 'Liv, my 'Liv, is here. I can see from here she's tied up and gagged somehow, and that she's trying to struggle to get away.

"Whatever you two are doing..." I groan out, standing up as much as I can with the restraints on, "It's your dumbest mistake. Put your grubby mitts on her... And I swear... I swear..."

Marty gets across the room before I can finish my idle threat. One more shot to the gut. I go down hard, coughing up blood and bile 'cause it's all I have left in my stomach. 'Liv thrashes against her restraints, trying to get to me.

"I wanted to beat you a bit more, Jackie boy..." The Doberman is grabbing me by the head again, forcing me to look up. "But then I thought about the layer of Hell reserved for traitors. And I thought hey... Why wait 'till you're dead?" he forces my head to the side, forces me to look at him. "Why not give you a taste of Hell here and now?"

He turns my head back towards 'Liv. He wants me to see this, and I can't look away. I see her eyes begging me, pleading. I want to tell her it's all going to be okay...

But I also don't want to lie to her.

Tweedle Doofus and Tweedle Dumbass open a case for Davis. He pulls out a syringe and a vial of some foul-looking green shit. I struggle against my chains and scream bloody murder. The pain is nothing compared to the helplessness. I've never felt so useless before.

The needle sinks into Olivia's vein, and I watch the chemicals seep into her. The worm-tailed fucker is drawing it out, pumping his freaky concoction into her painfully slowly.

Every part of this is to torture me, not her. Every second of her suffering is to teach me a lesson for running away.

I scream her name, rail like hell against my cuffs. My wrists start to bleed and my shattered shoulder bones grind against each other so much they might actually be turning to dust. But it's too late, far too late. I watch my beloved feline slump to her knees, eyes rolled back in her head. She's twitching, and my first though is they've just forced me to watch her receive a lethal injection.

"Oh, she's not dead, Jackson," Marty chimes in, as if reading my sluggish mind. "That'd be too easy on you. You get to watch what this does to her. And the fun part should be kicking in right about now."

I can't stop a single tear as it runs down my face, its chill a stinging reminder of how god-damn worthless I've become. 'Liv's head is rolling around loose as rubber chicken. Her eyes are still rolled up in her head.

"The hell... The hell did you do..?" I growl out. I try to sound menacing, but the rumbling of my vocal chords forces up more blood to cough out.

"Watch and learn, Jackie," Denis says to me with that shit-eating, cheese-belching smirk on his face again. I can't decide if I want to kill him before or after Marty. And then the unexpected happens. Denis instructs the Blunder Twins to untie Olivia and release her gag. At first, I'm overjoyed...

What happens next is horrifying.

'Liv, the good 'Liv, the sweet med student 'Liv, my 'Liv... is on all fours now, mewling and whimpering. Whatever they've done to her, I can sense her discomfort. The cocktail that filthy fucker pumped into my lovely Kitty is hurting her.

I feel the animal instinct to chew my own arms off, just to get free and get to Denis so I can tear out his throat. But it doesn't matter. I can't, even if I wanted to.

Liv rolls over onto her back. Groans. Shifts and writhes on the floor. I'd trade my soul to pull her from her torment.

It isn't until she pulls her shirt off and begins fondling her breasts that I realize what she was shot up with.

"That's potion number 639..." I whisper the words, more a confirmation to myself than anything. "The sex drug-"

"Please, don't be so crude when describing my genius." Denis adjusts his coat, clears his throat, and prepares for his nerd speech. I tune it all out - I know what it is. I was there when The Boss told him to design it. Picture one of those arousal stimulants for women, mixed with Ecstasy to increase sensitivity, with a loving dash of amphetamines to keep the user both alert and coming back for more.

"You hadn't finished it last time I was here..."

"Oh, that was ages ago, Jack," Marty assures me, grinning at me like the cat that ate the canary after fucking its mom in front of it. "Finally got it right and it only took us about 14 dead hookers to do it. But now that it's almost ready for distribution, it needs one more test subject. And your lady friend volunteered to do _any_thing we asked, so long as I didn't kill you."

"You sick fuckers..." I grumble out. A feeble attempt to move against the restraints produces nil. I'm truly tapped this time.

"Oh, Jackie..." the Pincher next to me assures me, patting me purposefully hard on the back to remind me of the stinging blows. "You ain't seen sick yet. She's pretty strong willed, though." He looks over at me, his face showing legitimate curiosity. "How long ya think 'till she starts begging for a cock? 'Cause the boys all vote for three minutes, but Denis swears it'll be half of that at most..."

I bite at his hand. I put in a last-ditch, hail-Mary, all-out assault against him, my chains, the radiator, anything within reach. The radiator threatens to cave soon.

Marty puts me back in place, with a swift blow to the back of the head. I black out for a few seconds. Oh the bliss of those few seconds without knowing. I wish I could stay there in the dark, not seeing this, not knowing this... But it ends. It ends too soon.

I wake up in Hell.

When I wake up, I can smell dripping arousal in the air. Unmistakable, familiar, female feline arousal.

Olivia.

My stomach churns. My aching spine trembles. My heart beat seems to slow to a stop. But in that moment as fear overrides pain, and the seconds pass like minutes... I know I have to look up.

What I see... there are no words for it. The pain in my body is nothing compared to this. I see 'Liv. I see 'Liv on all fours naked. I see 'Liv on all fours naked with a toy in each hole. Oh god... Oh god... please just kill me now...

"She's a real trooper, Jack." Marty's voice. Can't tell where he is. Eyes are too battered for peripheral vision. "She held on the entire time you were out. Y'know, I think she honestly believed... you were gonna save her." That haunting laugh again, ringing through me and making me shake like a tuning fork. "But we both know that ain't how this story goes. No happy endings for you."

I can hear the hurt under all Marty's anger. He's wounded, so deeply wounded. My treachery has pushed him to a place he never wanted to go back to. I've returned him to the Marty of the bad ol' days. And to think... I was the one who saved him from that once upon a time.

"Marty, Marty please..." I cough out. Breathing's getting harder, and my mouth feels like it's falling apart. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm fuckin' sorry! You don't have to do this! Please don't fuckin'-!"

Left foot meets right side of my head and sends my skull bouncing off the cold metal behind me.

"Begging, Jackie? And here I thought I still had some respect left for you."

I pray to just black out and wake up when it's over. But no dice. Denis sees to that with a shot of something. All I can do is look at the blurry image of 'Liv on the floor.

"Jackie... I'm so sorry..." She's teasing up, trying to crawl to me. "It's not my fault... It aches so bad. I wanted to come to you but they won't let me. Jackie... Jackie..."

She can't finish. Doesn't have to. I can hear all I need to in her moans. Toys ain't enough. They never were enough. Now... might as well give a lioness a plastic steak. She's getting legitimately pissed off now, she's so horny. How long was I out? How long was she fighting this alone?

I failed you again, baby. I'm sorry.

I watch her pull the toys out of herself and throw them, then lay slightly on her back, shaking. I don't wanna watch this... I can't. But the second I look away I hear sobs.

"Don't leave me."

I look back over. Marty's standing behind her now, laughing his head off.

"Yeah Jack, don't leave her." His sadistic smirk is so broad I can see it with my eyes half-closed. "She was all that really mattered, right pal? Only thing you had left." He unzips his pants and lets his cock drop free, slapping her in the face as he locks eyes with me. "Well, we're taking her from you. That's the way this game works. No free rides." He grabs her by the hair and drags her face across his length. "Everybody pays."

She looks up, eyes lighting up like gas-soaked rags. Canine cock, her one true weakness...

So much for looking at me.

She grasps at Marty's prick in disbelief like it's the Holy fuckin' Grail, like she can't believe she found it. To my abject horror she's kissing it, drooling across its length, sniffing and nuzzling and caressing it... Treating it with such tenderness and affection you'd think it was a child. Mart's pretty well endowed, and she makes sure to kiss and lick every inch of it like she's polishing a Porsche. Then he grabs the back of her head and growls.

"Quit procrastinating, bitch. It ain't gonna suck itself."

She nods, then looks over at me and lets out a long, slow whine.

"Jackie... I..."

"Snap to it bitch," Marty tells her. "You want that shit-eating puss-rag to draw one more fuckin' breath, you do as you're told, when you're told." He pulls a magnum from his back pocket, cocks it, and aims that hand-cannon right at my temple. He's a good shot, and even if he wasn't he's too close to miss. "I'd love to just splatter his brains all across this floor for what he's done, and the only thing keeping me from pulling this trigger is you complying with orders. Now get to work."

I nod to 'Liv. I lie to her. I tell her it's okay. My life don't mean shit to me, but if they wax me they'll use her anyway. If I'm worm-food, they'll most likely kill her afterward. At least keeping her alive tortures me, and that's what I'm banking on.

She sighs in relief and takes that cock into her mouth like a starving child would a burger.

I get the distinguished pleasure of a front row seat to my beloved's oral skills being put to use on a piece of shit gangster who wants me dead. She starts off unwilling, but when the taste hits her tongue it all goes downhill. Three practice strokes then hit's down her throat with ease, eyes rolled up to heaven as her tongue laps his balls. She stays that way for what feels like a lifetime, then grabs the back of her own head and fucks her throat with his prick. She rotates her head side to side, she pulls away every once in a while to tongue his nuts... she worships his cock like she thinks something immaculate is gonna come out of it. As she pants and kisses her way across the underside of his shaft Marty locks eyes with me, smile beaming like the Devil himself.

"She's good, Jackie. She's damn good. I can almost see why you quit the team now."

Every once in a while Olivia looks over at me like she's going to bust out sobbing. Then that look fades away and she's back to gulping down my former best pal.

It's the drugs.

I have to keep reminding myself that, have to hold to that fact. If I let myself forget even for a second, I'll probably go mad. As it is, I take every twitch of energy I get to wrench at my restraints.

Pointless.

"Does she like cum, Jackson?" He asks me, chuckling a bit as she mewls and moans around his prick. "I bet she does. I bet she swallows like a champ. Well, we're about to find out aren't we?"

I feel the bitter bite of tears against my swollen face, and creak my mouth open. I'm gargling my own blood as I try to speak... and moving the muscles it takes to spit it out is equivalent to setting my flesh on fire. But I manage it, cough a bit, and speak her name like a prayer of desperation.

She tries to glance at me but Marty places a hand on the back of her head. A little tap of resistance is all it takes, and she loses herself again in the smell and taste of pulsing pink pecker. She leans down below him and kisses his knot repeatedly, licking all around it before finally giving me a look.

"I'm sorry, Jackie... It just tastes so good... I can't stop it."

She doesn't wait for me to answer. She just opens wide and starts fucking her throat with his cock again. Marty smiles at me, then winks. And there, before my eyes, she stretches her jaw and pulls in his knot like a snake swallowing a mouse. She moans around it, whimpers, moves her head from side to side... I know all too well how much she loves cum. I try to turn my head away as she plays with his sac, but the Blunder Twins grab me and force me to look ahead.

Then Marty, my former best friend, howls and begins cumming in the throat of the only woman I ever loved.

For the first time since I was 12, I feel tears run down my cheeks. This is what he meant. This is the hell I'm trapped in. And as my lovely Olivia casts her gaze at me with her jaw stretched wide open from the knot lodged in her mouth, I try to lower my head. Seeing her like this, against her will or not, is ripping my battered heart to shreds. Then her words echo in my head.

Don't leave me, she'd begged.

I turn and look again. I already failed her. The least I can do is stay with her.

"Don't worry babe," I slur out, pausing to weakly spit out some more of the fluids draining from my slackened jaw. "We'll get through this. I'll get you-"

Thing One gives me a shot to the rib-cage. Thing Two punches me across the side of my face. If my muzzle wasn't broken before, it sure the fuck is now. As much as she can with a cock stuck in her mouth, 'Liv screams. I can't save her. I can't even save myself. She's going to suffer and I pray I'm going to die. I usher out a prayer to whatever god is listening. I was never a good Catholic, but maybe-

When Marty's cock finally slips free, I feel like my prayers have been answered. Maybe now they'll leave her alone. I pray this is the end. I've seen enough.

But when the morons walk away from me and over to her, I know it's just gettin' started.

Then, Marty does something I never would've expected. He lets 'Liv come over to me. She runs and throws her arms around me, squeezing me tight and trying to wipe the blood from my face. As much as my whole body is achingly tender to the touch, it feels good to be in her arms. I want to tell her so much, promise her a way out of this... then Marty whistles.

The asshole mutts are standing with cocks presented, hard and ready. I wanna puke.

"Here, bitch..." my old pal commands. "Come and get your treat. C'mon. Come over here and beg like a good little slut."

She whimpers. Hugs me again. Nuzzles into my neck. I can tell before she says a word what's going to come out of her mouth.

"Jackie... I'm sorry."

She crawls away on all fours, tail twitching spastically as her drug-fueled lust begins to clog her mind again. I have to keep reminding myself it's the drugs, but it doesn't make me feel any better. I know how potent the shit is, but it's still my girl in front of me, ass in the air, nuzzling at another man's leg.

"God damn it Marty, just kill me already!" I yank against my chains and feel bone grind bone in my arms and shoulders. "For the love of all that's holy, get it over with! If our friendship ever meant anything to you, blow my goddamn brains out!"

It falls on deaf ears. Not a single fuck is given. The morons chuckle as liv whimpers and nuzzles at them. They shove her away and wait. She won't, can't hold out. I debate bashing my head open, but there's no way in hell I could leave her. I need to figure out a way to save her, to get us out of this mess.

While I ponder all this, Olivia opens her mouth and mews. I'd throw up if I could. I know what comes next.

"Please... Please give me your cocks..." she mutters, rubbing one of the boys' thighs. "I'll do whatever you want... fuck me however you like. Just please, give me some cock."

My heart breaks, Marty laughs, and Denis shoves a needle in my arm. No telling what it is at first, but then my blood's on fire. Some kind of upper's in me now, and next thing I know I'm ripping myself apart again to try and get loose. I scream as pure red oozes from my mouth. I want to kill them. I want to kill them all.

Then 'Liv gets thrown on a dirty mattress. The fucker doesn't even bother warming her up. Doesn't need to. One rough shove and he's in. She whimpers random words of gratitude and willingly accepts the other cock into her mouth, bobbing eagerly.

My legs are practically glued to the floor by my own blood, but I can't stop struggling. It hurts so bad I'm sure permanent damage is being done. Next thing I know the radiator gives - and lands right on top of my battered back and arms. There's no words for the pain, and even the dope I've been pumped with can't give me any more fight. So there I lay, face slapped in a crimson puddle, watching the woman I'd die for happily gulping down cock while being fucked like a 2-dollar whore.

She doesn't deserve this. Please... stop it...

_ _ It goes on for what feels like an entire day. They take turns, all of them, fucking her in every hole. When Denis stuffs his filth-laden cock in her ass I scream bloody murder, but I can't form words anymore; jaw's too swollen. Marty goes at her the most. Makes it the most painful. Makes her say things.

"Go on, you stupid slut... tell him how much you love my cock," he says while slapping her on the ass. He's pounding her doggy-style and yanking her hair back, forcing her to look up at me. "Tell him it's the best cock you've ever had, or I swear I'll pull out."

She obeys with no hesitation. "Marty has the best cock I've ever felt!" she screams. "Please don't pull that wonderful cock out of me! It feels so good!" She's a mess; hair and face coated in cum, drooling all over herself, eyes rolled back in pure joy... It's like she's not even mine anymore.

Eventually, I pass out from exhaustion. As I fade I can hear her screaming how much she loves dog-cock, and that opossum cock tastes sweet as honey. I pray I never wake up.

When I come to, Marty's standing over me. He's got a disk in his hand. A DVD. They were filming what they did to her, the sick fuckers. The puts it in a case and lays it by my head, then uncuffs me and rolls me off the radiator.

"Seems you get the point," he says, rubbing my head like I'm his pet bitch. I'd bite if I could, but between physical and emotional pain I can only manage a whimper. "You don't turn your back on family. Bitches come and go, and now... that bitch, in particular, is gone. She's hooked on the drug - begged for more while you were out. She'll spend her life getting high and letting herself get fucked by anything with a pulse. And remember, Jackie boy..." he leans in close, then whispers in my ear with a cruel sort of glee "... it's all your fucking fault."

I can't stop sobbing, and I can't move. I just lay there, weeping into my own vital fluids, and hoping they'll finally kill me. But, it seems, Marty has other plans.

"There's a counteracting agent to the drug," he tells me finally. "We may just give it to her. But from now on, you're back in the fold. Do what you're told, when you're told, with no questions." He pats me hard on my aching shoulder, and I wince. "Nice to have you back, Jackie. We'll go out for drinks sometime and celebrate."

Then with a cold laugh, he's gone. I've got nothing left. No strength, no will to live... I've barely got any blood. But I have to survive to get her out of this. I have to save Olivia. As soon as I can move, I tell myself, I'm back to work. I'll do whatever.

_ I'll save you baby. Just hold on. And don't let them drag you down too far..._

_ _