rissy stories

*Trigger Warning* this story is explicit because it contains violence, gore, death, cursing, and mentions of rape. Do not read if you’re triggered by any of these topics.

Hey guys,

Here’s a story that I wrote for a class last Spring semester. It’s pretty heavy and dark, but the I hope the lighter breaks in between the heavy ones make up for it. Also, it’s not entirely finished, I’m still working on some of it. If you have any feedback, it would be appreciated. However, read at your own risk.

As always, this all came from my brain. I didn’t steal anything or plagiarize, I promise.

---

It smelled like him.

“What? What’s the matter,” he asked, his hands gripping my shoulders tight from behind me.

The apartment, I thought. He must’ve made coffee because he always smelt like coffee.

The man was an ER doctor, after all.

“Did you make coffee?” My flat voice sounded foreign to my own ears; I couldn’t even imagine how it sounded to Jaxton. There was a small pause and a huff from his nose.

“It was two in the morning when I got the call, of course I did,” he said, his voice gravelly and low, but the amusement in his tone caused the corners of my lips to twitch upwards.

“Smells good,” I whispered. He chuckled. I felt his chest shake a little against my back.

“It’s not decaf Tinny, so you’re not getting any.” His breath blew my hair lightly.

“Okay.”

He inhaled deep before squeezing my shoulders. One of his hands slipped down to the small of my back and pressed into my jacket to urge me forward.

“Well, c’mon then,” he whispered in my ear. I took another small step forward, which was enough for him to close the squeaky door behind me while keeping a hand on my body – always touching me in some fashion.

He hadn’t let go of me once since we left the hospital, like he was scared of me running back to my own apartment if he did. I could still feel the sweat he’d left on the palm of my hand when he held it tightly in the car on the cab ride home.

His hands found their way back to my shoulders and he guided me past his grey couch, flat-screen, and picture frames. We headed towards the breakfast bar in his kitchen and he sat me down on a stool while I stared at the clock above the stove: 4:48 am.

Jaxton’s baby blue Columbia University t-shirt suddenly blocked my line of vision – a shirt that was becoming much too small for him now. It had been through dryer so many times that the front rode up his stomach and the short sleeves squeezed the life out of his biceps.

“Tinley?”

My eyes flicked up to his concerned green ones at the sound of him using my actual name. The real pronunciation rarely left his mouth – he loved making up nicknames.

Tin, Tin-tin, Tiny, Tinny, Tinny-two-shoes, Tinman, Ley. They were endless.

His green eyes glowed in the low light of the small kitchen.

“Hmm?” I hummed as he rang out a dishtowel over the silver sink directly across from where I sat.

“I asked if you wanted me to fix you something to eat?” His thick eyebrows were raised, forehead lines pronounced and hiding under his ruffled brown hair, free of product for once. I loved when his hair looked like that. Messy. Carefree.

“No,” I replied with a shake of my head.

“To drink?” I take a deep breath as I run through my list of options.

“Orange juice?” He nodded once and walked to the black fridge behind him. He pulled out the plastic carton and slid it across the counter to me, not even bothering to pick out a cup.

That’s when I knew how upset he was.

Xxx

“Don’t move.”

“You don’t-”

“I SAID: DON’T. MOVE.” I flinched, trying to ignore the press of cold metal against my temple. My trembling hands froze above my head as I glanced around the dusty, humid warehouse basement. I wouldn’t be surprised if there were black widows hanging around.

“I’m not moving,” I hear myself whisper. Calmly. Carefully. I stared at the child in front of me – stripped naked and tied up in the corner. She had the biggest brown eyes that were now bruised black and blue. I could tell that her blonde hair used to be longer, but it had been hacked-at – viciously cut shorter at strange angles. Maybe with a knife? Probably, because her scalp had dried blood coated in her hair in several spots on her head.

Freckles covered every inch of her skin, including her right ankle that was swollen to twice its normal size – clearly broken. Her tiny hands were turning a bluish purple behind her back from lack of blood flow, and she was whimpering behind the duct tape on her mouth.

Cora. Her name was Cora.

This man, however, was just a large man with a ski mask.

“You got back-up?”

“No,” I replied, mentally kicking myself for coming in to search the abandoned warehouse basement alone without telling my partner where I was going. “Just me.”

“Radio?”

“Left pocket.”

“You armed?” he asked, his hands groping my sides and butt as he ripped my radio from its place on my hip. His breath felt heavy and thick against my hair, like it was seeping into my brain for me to forever remember. He smelt strangely of cigars and I hate smokers.

“Yes.”

“Where?” I paused.

“My right hip,” I finally reply. His hand roughly moved down my body, making a show of trying to cop a feel before he finally found where my handgun was holstered. He pulled it out.

“Bullet-proof vest, huh,” he chuckled. “Lot of good that’s doing you when the gun’s pointed at your head.”

Xxx

Jaxton walked around the bar, and I twisted my body to face him as he bent over with the dish towel in his hands, staring all over my face like it was a favorite toy of his that a dog ripped to shreds. I cradled the carton in my lap and tapped the plastic with a fingernail.

“I should’ve washed it off earlier, you don’t have to do this, Jax,” I said quietly. His wandering eyes finally landed on mine and he shook his head.

“Let me take care of you,” he said, then placed the white, lukewarm cloth on my forehead and swiped. I flinched, but closed my eyes on instinct and tried to let the caresses all across my face attempt to lull me half asleep. I opened my eyes when I felt his sigh cool my wet skin.

“There,” he whispered as I glanced down at the now red-tinted white cloth in his hands. I swallowed hard and stared until he placed the cloth behind his back. “Drink your juice, Tin,” he said softly, walking back around the counter. I twisted the cap off and sipped slowly.

I shifted in my seat again until the carton laid on the counter in front of me, my elbows against the marble and my fists under my chin, holding up my heavy head. I watched him throw the cloth into the trashcan under the sink, then literally wash the blood off of his hands.

“You should go back to bed. Don’t you have work in the morning,” I asked quietly. Jaxton shook his head, running a wet hand through his hair, pushing it off of his forehead.

“Not anymore,” he sighed. “Niko said the night’s been slow, so June took off early and offered to cover my shift today.” He turned around to clean out the Keurig.

“Why?”

“Why?” he asked incredulously, his green eyes wide. I was about to take another slug of my juice, but hesitated with the look he gave me. “You still have brain matter in your hair.”

“I’m fine,” I said. He scoffed, slamming the used paper filter into the trash can.

“She says as she sits in my kitchen, drinking orange juice straight from the carton with blood all over her,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head.

“You’re the one who insisted I come back to your apartment and you’re the one who didn’t hand me a cup,” I said. He let out a harsh laugh.

“That’s what you decide to focus on in that sentence?” he asked with a cocked eyebrow.

“Yes.”

“You need to be more careful!”

“And you think too much!” My heart sinks as tears rim Jaxton’s eyes.

“Sutton told me that you almost died.”

xxx

Sutty will realize I’m missing in twenty minutes, I thought optimistically as my hands were fastened behind my back.

He’ll meet back with our sergeant in twenty minutes and realize I disappeared. They’ll find me. They’ll find us. We’ll save her. After a month of searching, we’ll save her.

I hissed in pain as this animal tightened the ropes wrapped around my ankles and the legs of the rickety chair I was sitting in. Then he paused.

“You carry a drop gun too?”

Dammit, I was counting on that one. I squeezed my eyes shut as he hoisted up my pant leg and pulled the gun out of the holster wrapped around my calf. My eyes flickered to the little girl who was fading away fast – she was struggling to keep those pretty little eyes of hers open.

“So how about you let the girl go now that you have me,” I asked.

“Why would I do that?” The man had icy blue eyes underneath his ski mask. I huffed. He was about to kill us and he still refused to show his face. What a coward.

“Isn’t sticking with your pattern boring though?” I asked, trying to push down my fear and remember my training. “She has no idea who you are. Even if she does live, she won’t be able to tell anyone anything. So, how about you let her go and see what happens? You’ve already brought her to the brink – why not push her over the edge instead of having her wither away like you usually do? Why not give her some useless hope to shake things up a little?”

I wasn’t prepared for the backhand across the face with my own gun.

xxx

I must’ve visibly flinched because Jaxton’s immediate look of guilt suggested that he regretted what he said as soon as he said it. His shudder also showed that he looked as disturbed as I felt about it. I glanced down at the polished granite counter and scratched it.

“Sutty thinks too much too,” I said.

“You could still die,” Jaxton grumbled. I knew that he was trying to wake me up – make me feel guilty for not being more careful, but he didn’t understand my job. No one except my coworkers understood my job, and Jax couldn’t accept that. My muscles tightened.

“Stop,” I muttered to him for the thousandth time that we’d had this type of conversation.

“The chances that you ingested some of that blood are high.”

“I said stop it, Jax.”

“Who knows what you could’ve caught?”

“That girl was twelve,” I yelled without meaning to. I feel a twinge of regret as it was his turn to flinch. How could he work as a trauma doctor every day and allow himself to be such a softy at home? “What – you think she had HIV?”

“Well he certainly could!” Jax yelled back, slamming his hands on either side of the sink. I fell silent at that, suddenly feeling sick to my stomach. “Don’t they perform rape kits during these types of autopsies for court?” I could feel blood draining from my face.

“Shut up.” I didn’t blame him for not caring that he was upsetting me. I would probably be saying the same things to him if our roles were reversed and he’d almost gotten killed over a stupid decision, like searching alone for a man holding a girl hostage.

“He was a registered sex offender, and he had her for a month. Surely he must’ve-”

“Shut the fuck up, Jaxton,” I cut him off, even though I knew it was worthless. Jax wasn’t one to back down once he got this worked up and pissed off. My legs started to shake.

“Hell – you could have Hep. B, C, or D, HIV, or full blown AIDS for all we know!”

Thankfully the only contents of my stomach that ended up all over his floor was orange juice.

xxx

“So, which one of my girls wants me first?”

I stared at the bulge in his pants and tried not to vomit. My head was already throbbing from the gun bitch-slap, and thinking about this guy’s dick in any orifice of mine would surely push me over the edge. The man’s head turned back and forth between Cora and I. The poor girl was almost unconscious on the floor, but maybe that was for the best.

“C’mon, one of you’s gotta take care of this,” the man said, motioning to his crotch.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked before I could stop myself.

“What?” My eyes narrowed on him.

“I just want to know why you’re kidnapping and tying up a defenseless 12-year-old girl as well as a 35-year-old women and beating the shit out of them until they pass out,” I tried to keep my voice as even-keeled as possible. He looked puzzled.

However, my strategy of stalling instead of negotiating also proved to be incredibly flawed, as I soon felt the cold press of metal against my forehead. He jammed the barrel of my own gun into my head, my eyes trained on his finger that looked ready to squeeze the trigger.

“Stop talking pig,” he growled in my face and I leaned backwards a bit in my chair to escape his nicotine breath. I felt my badge dig into my butt as I did so.

“Okay,” I whispered, not able to stop the tremble in my voice. He didn’t remove the gun from my face for a while.

I honestly didn’t even remember how long, because all I could think about was how my aunt had texted me a picture earlier and I’d never get to respond. I’d said ‘I love you’ to Jaxton before leaving for work, but I’d never get to say it again. Sutton owed me a lunch that I’d never receive. I’d never see my mother cry at my wedding. My father would never hold his first grandchild. I’d never visit Japan, like I always wanted to.

I’d die right there, right then.

“Fear,” I whispered as he struggled to undo his belt with one hand. “You like fear. Is that it,” I asked. He ignored me, groaned in frustration, and finally lowered the gun to open his pants with both hands. I breathed out a sigh of relief and tried not to think about the lingering feeling of cold metal on my forehead.

“I’m not letting the kid go, so shut up already,” he growled.

“I’m trying to help you,” I pleaded. “I know you’re not a pedophile – so why are you doing this?”

“How would you know?” he snapped. My heart skipped a beat – it was working. When in doubt, stall. Stall, stall, stall.

“Because you’re not attracted to Cora, you’re just using her,” I replied.

“How-”

“I possess basic observational skills,” I cut him off flatly, and he paused. “You’re only doing this to hurt her – why?”

“You better shut up before I shove this gun down your throat,” he replied, finally opening his pants after fiddling with them for ten minutes. My eyes flickered to his jeans, then back up to his eyes. I was running out of time.

“Everyone has a motive, and I’ve always wanted to know what drives someone to torture a child for a month,” I said while knowing very well that it could be a death sentence. Next thing I knew, I had a hand around my throat, squeezing it closed. I wheezed.

“You really want to help me? Fine, give me my daughter back,” he yelled in my face as I squeezed my eyes shut.

Xxx

I closed my eyes as they watered, and warm tears dropped onto the floor below me. I felt a hand rubbing my back, another holding my hair, and I heard soothing whispers in my ear. I was still on the stool, my chest to my knees, my arms folded around my stomach. I hung my head low as my urge to dry heave my stomach out finally passed.

“You okay now, Tinny?” Jax asked quietly. I coughed wetly and nodded.

“Sorry,” I groaned.

“Don’t worry about it.” His hand was still rubbing my back as he held a napkin in front of my mouth and wiped. “How’s your cheek?” He was purposefully avoiding touching that area.

“Hurts,” I said. A gun to the face does that to you.

“I’ll get you some ice for it, but first, let’s get you in the shower.” He started helping me off of the stool, avoiding the mess I made on the floor.

“Shouldn’t I clean this up?” I asked. He gave me his famous ‘you’re-sweet-but-so-so-stupid’ look. So, I remained silent as I let him walk me to his bathroom in his bedroom. He helped me out of my clothes and into the shower without allowing me to look into the mirror.

I scrubbed hard at my skin and hair with whatever I could find in his shower, not stopping until red stopped dripping off of me and swirling down the drain. And I kept rubbing my forehead, but the feeling that something was pressing up against it wouldn’t go away.

I don’t know how long I was in there, but the water was getting cold, so I turned it off and pulled the clear shower curtain back to find a green towel folded on the toilet seat, fresh out of the dryer, and a pair of Jax’s baggy pajamas sitting underneath it.

My favorites.

I let out a long sigh as I dried myself off, then I buried my face in the towel and inhaled the coffee scent that had permeated the entirety of the apartment. My eyes filled up with tears again and I fell onto the toilet seat, onto his pajamas, as I cried into the towel.

Xxx

“Your daughter?” I croaked, a hand still tight around my throat.

“Four months and a day ago. That robbery on 7^th. My daughter was in that store,” he yelled, his eyes watering behind the ski mask. “She was picking out a birthday present for her mother… a rookie shot her by mistake,” he said, squeezing squeezed my neck even tighter and I struggled against him, trying to gasp for air.

“I want my kid back, and I’ll be damned if this one gets away from me,” he snarled in my face, then finally let go of my neck. “Even though she’s turned out to be nothing like mine,” he added bitterly. Meanwhile, I could’ve doubled-over coughing and gasping for air if I hadn’t been restrained while he cried. I’d finally caught my breath when he pulled himself together.

“So, it’s either me or a gun shoved down your throat – you pick.”

Cora was awake and wailing now, looking between the man and I, like she was waiting for me to break out of my restraints and save the day for her.

I almost hoped she didn’t live long enough to realize that the longer you stayed in a job like mine, the more you witnessed the deaths of your heroes.

The poor girl was flopping around like a fish out of water, his crotch dangerously close to her dark-circled eyes. She was speaking gibberish, shaking her head, and trying to scoot away from him while the duct tape that was on her mouth now dangled from her chin, a huge red mark covering the majority of her mouth where he violently ripped it off.

Where the hell was my team?

“Me,” I suddenly offered, not able to hear the girl’s piercing cries any longer. “I’ll do it.”

“Changed your mind?” he asked and Cora shook her head, breathing erratically.

“I didn’t think she’d wake up enough for it,” I said honestly.

“You think that woulda stopped me,” he asked. I shifted uncomfortably. “Well,” he grabbed a fistful of the girl’s hair and yanked her across the floor, towards me. I’ve never heard such pained, shrill shrieks in my entire life. “How about I shoot her and we find out together?” he asked with a smile. I tried to keep my breathing under control.

“Okay, let’s cut the crap. We both know that you’re eventually going down for this. So how about you just earn yourself a little extra time out of jail and let us go, yeah?” I asked, panic seeping up into my tone. I knew trying to talk him down at this point was useless. He was seeking revenge for his daughter, and even though he’d failed to replace her with Cora, there was no way he would let her go now.

I’d been trapped in this hell hole for at least one hour by now, and the chances of Sergeant Reed, Sutton, and the rest of my team finding us tonight were growing slimmer.

“This ain’t a negotiation,” the man said, yanking Cora up by her hair, causing her to scream out in pain again. He held her up in front of me so I could get a great look of her face. A hopeless face with dark eyes that would haunt me forever. The light went out of her eyes.

“Last chance,” the man said. “You or her?” He held my gun up to the girl’s temple and she squeezed her eyes shut, shaking and crying.

I just froze.

The obvious choice was me, ME, obviously me.

But yet, I froze. And, so, he chose for me.

My gun went off as soon as the door to the warehouse basement burst open.

xxx

Strong arms pulled me off of the toilet seat, the pajamas underneath me making it easy to slide off and fall into a lap on the floor of the bathroom. I felt those arms wrap around me tightly, cradling me. The towel was eventually pulled away from my face, so I buried it in that baby blue Columbia t-shirt and sobbed. I felt Jax covering my body with the towel in the meantime, and his fingers eventually played with my dripping wet hair. He was silent.

“I think… I don’t want to be a cop anymore,” I whispered once I’d calmed down enough to speak without it sounding like gibberish. I was still lying on the bathroom floor, naked, with my boyfriend holding me and playing with my wet hair.

“Wait, what?” Jax asked, leaning back a little bit so he could look at me. I twisted my neck so my puffy brown eyes met his green ones. I sniffled and shook my head against him.

“I can’t do this, Jax. I’m not a cop,” I said shakily. He sighed. “I just let her die to save myself,” I cried. There was a long pause before he shook his head and responded.

“It’s too soon to make this decision. You were just taken hostage several hours ago, you haven’t had a psych eval, and the results of your blood tests haven’t come back yet, so… no. Why don’t we go to bed before we do anything else,” Jaxton said it like a question, but it really wasn’t one as he began pulling the two of us off of the floor, then he picked up his pajamas and handed them to me. I became quiet as I pulled his boxers and flannel pants up my legs.

“How’s your stomach,” he suddenly asked.

“It’s seen better days,” I replied tiredly as I pulled on a Police Academy shirt I’d bought him two years ago that was much too baggy on me.

“So has your skin,” he said, his thumb reaching for my forehead. “You rubbed it raw.”

I violently jerked my head away this time, a large gasp erupting from my throat as I slammed into the tan wall behind me. Jaxton recoiled at my reaction and I shook my head at him, my limbs shaking. He slowly approached me like he wasn’t trying to scare me away, his arms out in front of him, hands splayed open to show that he meant no harm.

“Okay,” he whispered understandingly. I swallowed hard and blinked several times, breathing hard. For some reason, the smell of smoke filled my nostrils, so I suddenly reached out to grab Jaxton’s shirt. I yanked my confused boyfriend towards me. “Tinley, what the hell-”

“Jax, stop talking,” I cut him off, hugging him and taking a deep inhale to rid myself of the smoky odor. I slowly felt his arms wrap around me and they lightly pressed against my back.

“I’m-” he started then stopped, like he was afraid to say it. “I’m getting really worried.”

“Don’t,” I replied, taking another deep breath and pressing my face into the crook of his neck. I eventually felt him unfreeze and rub my back with his hand.

“I think you need sleep,” he whispered.

“Can’t,” I murmured.

“Then I’ll give you some Melatonin, just, c’mon,” he said, unraveling me from him long enough to pull me out of the bathroom and flick the light off. I flinched as the room went dark and I stiffened. He led me towards the king-sized bed with a fluffy down comforter and literally tucked me in like I was five.

“Open the blinds?” I asked quietly, since he didn’t have a nightlight. He nodded.

“Yeah,” he replied and walked over to the window and let moonlight into the room – enough light that I could see if I got up to use the bathroom. “Better?” He spared a glance back at me and saw me nod against the pillows. Then he disappeared into the bathroom without turning the light on. I heard the rattling of pills in a plastic bottle and the subtle ‘pop’ of the lid opening. I hugged his pillow in the meantime, trying to relax.

He walked back in with a plastic Daily cup filled with water and two pills in his hands. Once I swallowed them down, he crawled into his bed, next to me. I heard him snort.

“You know, I kind of need that pillow to sleep with, Tin.”

“No you don’t,” I groaned.

“Fine, then I’ll just use you as a pillow.” I was about to protest when his upper half landed directly on top of me. I whined. He smiled. “Much better.” If this was his way of distracting me and trying to make me feel better… it was certainly working.

“No it’s fucking not,” I grunted. His body shook with laughter and I kicked my foot towards the end of the bed under the covers in defiance. “Dammit, Jax, get off me.”

“Then give me my pillow.” I hesitantly let him take it from my arms. He put it back in its normal spot, next to mine, then he laid down like a normal human being. I felt him tense up when I curled into his side, resting my head on his chest, my arms wrapping around his torso.

“Oh what, is this payback?” he asked. I could practically hear the smile in his tone.

I wasn’t one to cuddle. We both knew this. Not even after sex, which Jax found weird after the first time we did it three years ago.

“Tin?” Jax’s voice was softer and less amused when I didn’t respond. I cleared my throat.

“Not payback,” I whispered, hugging him tighter on instinct. He hesitated before slowly enveloping me in his arms. I melted into him, able to tell by his uneven breathing that he still had absolutely no idea what to make of me tonight. I could practically sense him making note of all my weird symptoms and locking them away in his brain’s file cabinet for another time.

“You’re okay,” he whispered, stroking my hair as my eyes closed.

I couldn’t tell if he was trying to convince me or himself.