Jack's motorbike screeched to a halt in front of the musty old motel. Parking hastily, he walked briskly inside. The entire motel seemed desolate. Jack was sure that barely one or two of the sprawling eighteen room mansion had guests in them.

"Where are the Jones?" Jack hissed at the thin weasel-like man at the reception. His yellowed teeth and eyes looked at him mockingly as he let out a humourless laugh. His clothes were dirty and his face looked like it hadn't been washed for days.

"They left a long time ago." His voice was raspy and cracked as he spoke.

"Left? Where?" demanded Jack. It was impossible. This was the only place where Zachary and his uncle could have stayed without fear of the police. The Kormin brothers were well known and the people mostly minded their own business. The brothers appeared to be law abiding, earning money by running an old motel, but Jack knew there was more to it than just that.

"Like I'd tell you." he said lighting a cigarette, blowing smoke on Jack's face.

Big. Mistake.

Jack took out his revolver and shot three bullets one after the other. Two at the ceiling, destroying a perfectly ugly chandelier, and a one at an even uglier carpet.

"Where." was all Jack said as the man squirmed behind his desk. Jack grabbed him by the collar, and dragged him up.

"They left with the Kormin brothers, and a woman, who was unconscious. I don't know exactly where they went, but I have a hunch." said a haggard looking woman, suddenly appearing. She was dressed in a cook's uniform, and was probably in her late twenties. She looked pained.

"Shut up Paula. You're not supposed to tell." snapped the man behind the desk. "When this is over I am going to punish you so bad---"

Jack punched him in the face, knocking him out. Blood splattered out of his nose and mouth as he leaned back against his chair unconscious.

Jack turned to the woman and said, "The Jones and the Kormins had an unconscious woman with them?"

"Yes." she said looking petrified. "They said her name was Gabriel or something, I'm not sure. I was asked to strip her of any cell phone and stuff."

Jack felt like someone had stabbed him in the heart. They had attacked her, his Brielle, once again, while he'd been stupid enough to send her off alone. Arthur...damn it.

"Was a young boy with them?" he asked gruffly.

"No." said the woman looking at him intently.

Jack had kept his phone switched off to avoid having his location traced. Screw it. Let them all find me.

As soon as he switched it back on, he found endless messages from Arthur and Axky combined. Both of them had written informing him of Brielle's abduction well over an hour ago. And he hadn't even looked at them once. His guilt would kill him if anything happened to Brielle. In fact, it was slowly gnawing at his insides, cell by cell killing him with regret.

He read another message saying that Arthur had returned to their original hotel and had already informed the police. Jack sighed. The only person with a brain that worked seemed to be Arthur. Jack had thought of Arthur as a lovesick hormonal teenager, but honestly, at this point in time, he was the most sensible of them.

Jack looked at the pitiful woman in front of him and decided he would at least spare her from any further pain. Maybe retribution would lead him to a safe and sound Brielle.

"Let's go. You never have to come back to this place." he managed to say with warmth in his eyes. The woman visibly calmed down at his tone.

"Henry is my boss and my fiance." she said almost on the verge of crying pointing towards the man Jack had just punched.

"That bastard? No way. What is your name?" asked Jack, placing his hand at the small of her back and guiding her out of the motel.

"Paula Fannington." she said, looking scared. "Will you kill me?"

"Of course not. I need your help." said Jack. Seeing the fear in her eyes, he added, "I will not let any of these people hurt you. You have my word and protection from now on."

"Who are you?" she asked as she hopped on the motorbike behind him, gingerly putting an arm around his waist.

"Someone from the past." he simply said as he reloaded his revolver and started the engine.

Brielle felt her head crash against something hard. Immediately a sticky wetness dripped down the sides of her face. She was still numb from the chloroform, and her vision was blurred, but there was no mistake when she touched the hot liquid on the top of her head. One look at her crimson fingers told her it was blood.

Brielle clutched her head with both her hands and suppressed a scream as she found them covered in thick, red blood.

"There is so much blood." she thought, her breath ragged and loud. "Good God it hurts. I must have accidentally hit the wall when I was asleep."

"Where am I?" she wondered out loud. She couldn't see clearly, and could barely make out a small, bare, four walled room. She was relieved to notice that she was fully clothed in the attire she was kidnapped in. At least no one had touched her ...yet.

A few rays of light seemed to enter from, one, two three... six tiny holes near the ceiling. It provided a dull illumination to an otherwise boring room. With a gasp, Brielle realised that she must be underground.

"This better not be another sewer." she thought dreading the possibility. But then immediately reconsidered her thought. If the men who had taken her hostage had any unpleasant plans for her she would happily opt for the sewers. She had a better success percentage there.

She looked around, feeling every bit of the walls for a way out, but in vain. She ran into many cobwebs that entangled in her fingers as she searched. She was startled when her hands touched something cold and hard. She knocked against it to hear a metallic twang.

It was a door! She rapidly felt it, but there was no lock or handle on her side. She pushed as hard as she could but to no avail. The heavy door wouldn't budge. Its probably locked from outside.

"Help me!" she yelled. She called out several times but no one responded.

"They've left me here for dead. My head hurts, and there's so much blood...I don't have much time." she concluded depressingly. The thick metal door in the left corner of the tiny room was the only entrance and exit path for someone her size. Crouching down she tried to peer from under the rusty metal door. She cursed in frustration. She couldn't see anything; the door was sealed shut. Brielle wondered if there was in fact a tiny crack, and it was only due to the lack of light that she was unable to see outside.

"If only I had a flashlight or even a cell phone. I didn't carry one since Arthur was with me...Arthur...I hope he's alright." thought Brielle worriedly. "My purse is gone, I had a little pen knife in there. The ruffians who abducted me must have taken it away."

She traced her fingers around the walls, painstakingly searching for a way out. The six tiny holes were too far up for her to reach, an even if she could she wouldn't be able to make way through the concrete ceiling. She got down on all fours and searched the dusty floors with her bloody hands. She was surprised when she reached the bit of floor near the door hinge. A fat little mouse was sitting quietly, and moved only slightly when she came near him.

"But you're nice and fat." she said brightly, hope entering her dismal soul. "Oh little mouse, I love you! Do tell me how you get in and out of this cellar."

As if on queue, the little mouse darted towards the door and started climbing up the door hinge. She lunged only to see its tail disappear through a crack on the side of the metal door.

Not so invincible after all are you, you useless metallic slab? I'll sure as hell get out of this damn place. I have my own frigging wedding to attend.

Jack...oh Jack...are you looking for me? Don't forget me...

An idea entered her mind that instant. Desperate she raked her hands over her own body, searching, searching, searching...shirt, bra, jeans, panties, socks, shoes, damn it, where was it? Frustrated, but not ready to give up, she checked again. Sure enough, there it was, wrapped between the scrunched ends of her shirt and jeans, the ring that Jack had stuffed into her palm before sending her off.

"A fifty carat diamond." she said licking her lips. Crouching down she scratched at the door hinges with the diamond's sharp edge. Would it work?

Just then, she felt a stab of pain on her head as she realised how weak she was. She must have lost a lot of blood. Her eyes closed on themselves as she lay down on the floor, sleep taking over her tired mind.

Jack, please come looking for me.