Raging Bullets
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The crimson stain of blood coated her arm as the whirring noise of the bullet still buzzed in her ears. This isn't happening...it can't be happening... she thought as she raised her other hand to barely touch the oozing wound in her left arm. It was more of a slash as the bullet had grazed her and then delved itself into the brick wall behind her. If she had known being a reporter would lead her to this, she would have chosen law school as her father had wished. Her mind raced with thoughts, plans...anything to get her out of the situation. Her heart pounded with fear - fear not only of the gunman, but for her life as well. She was confused, unaware of what was happening or why. Right now she wanted to give up all her life possessions for a chance to turn back time, to go with her inner voice at the moment and run the other way when she heard the scuffle down a dark alley. But her curiosity overtook her, a reporter's drive sent her chasing down the alley.

She then realized that the blood was slowly running down her arm and then dripping off the fingertips into a small puddle on the concrete below. A few inches to her side was a metal grating, a storm sewer. One look at the thick red liquid threw her stomach into somersaults. Her eyes rolled back in her head and her body fell limp against the wall, slowly sinking to the ground with a thud.

"Get her in the van..."

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Darkness. Thick, black, musty darkness. It surrounded her like a thick cloak that someone drew over her head.

Suddenly, she sensed movement somewhere in the depths of whatever boundaries surrounded her. It wasn't the same overbearing presense of the men that brought her to this Hell, but a timid, seemingly scared being just beyond the small span of vision she accustomed in the blackness.

"Hello?" she choked out, the voice hardly sounding like her own. It was weak, dry and harsh unlike the thick, velvety tone she used to sweet talk politicians, scandals, and criminals. She attempted to move but the pain was no longer confined to the wound in her arm but now over took most of her body in the forms of bruises and cuts. It felt as if her ribs had been busted apart. They probably are... she noted silently with a wince.

"Hello?" she repeated into the darkness, this time her voice slightly louder. Her tongue was dry, as was her throat. The small bits of saliva she could muster did nothing to soothe the barren dryness. "Is someone there?" she whispered, fear now overtaking her as thoughts, nightmares, invaded her mind.

"Are you...hurt?" the tentative whisper finally burst into the silence of the room, breaking the tension that hung in the room for the few seconds of incertainty.

"Yes..." she croaked out. "Where are we?"

"I don't know." The voice was soft, yet undoubtedly male.

"Why are you here?" She knew the answer would probably be something similar to why she was there: kidnapping, a mistake...

"I don't know."

"Can you say something besides 'I don't know'?" she asked losing her patience.

"Yeah." The single word was followed by a weak laugh. Apparantly, he - whoever he was - had been in the room for a while. She could tell he was weak, sad and...something else was in his voice. It didn't carry the fear she knew hung heavy in her choked whispers, but it carried some other emotion.

"What's your name?"

There was a pause before he whispered, "Why do you ask so many questions?"

Dammit! She hated when people answered a question with a question. It meant there was a hidden truth...that meant more work for her to find it out.

Maybe he's one of them! He's in here to destroy me! Now wait...he would have done that already wouldn't he. Hm...maybe he's some famous person kidnapped for ransom! A movie star or royalty! Naw...that only happens in movies. Why doesn't he want to tell me his name? I hate difficult people!!

"Are you hurt really bad?" he asked again, breaking her train of thought and changing the subject all at the same time.

"I think so," she replied vaguely, trying to sum up the burning sensation eminating from the slicing trail where the bullet traced on her arm with the jagged feeling of her ribs poking at her insides. Hurt really bad...that's one way to put it.

"Think you could come over here and help me get my hands free? They tied them together when I came to the other day, and I lost feeling in my fingers a long time ago..." He sounded so childish, so sweet and innocent...too nice to be in a place like this.

She rose to her knees, the pain in her ribcage a mixture of the grinding bones, the pinching sensation of the fragments closing around her lungs with the tearing of the slowly healing flesh wound in her arm that now seemed to open fully again. The blood ran down her arm quickly as if racing to hit the floor as she shuffled on her knees to the other side of their captivity. She fumbled around, her fingers finally coming down to touch the roughness of rope. By the rope was warm, soft flesh...the structure of the hands was large, fan-like...the type of hands on a man that are irrisistible, sexual and so tempting. She shook away the thoughts as she undid the ropes with an unusual clumsiness. Only one of her hands functioned properly, the other crippled by the pain in her arm. After a struggle, the ropes finally gave way and she collapsed onto the floor, exhausted from the loss of blood.

Her eyes closed as she took a deep breath, the feeling of the air in her lungs more important than the excruciating pain overtaking her body. Then she felt one of those masculine hands touch her arm, the fingertips tapping into the coating of blood covering her skin and shirt sleeve.

"Is this...?" he whispered, his fingers raising off her body.

"Blood? Yes," she quietly mumbled, her body aching and tired as the lethargy of blood loss overcame her again.

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Light. That's all Hollie could feel. What's happening? Where am I? she thought before remembering the events filling her day. Then she could feel the pain again, the gnawing and jagged pain that imersed her whole body. Her eyes cracked open and she was blinded by the light, her eyes forgetting how sharp illumination can seem.

After blinking a few times, the blurred images around her started to form into figures...faces. One man was standing over her, a snarl on his thin lips. The rest of his face wasn't pretty either as it was dappled with scars and darkened from days in the sun. His black eyes burned holes into her face as he glared down at her. Something deep in his eyes warned her to be afraid even though his lips never moved, never formed words.

As the fear enveloped her body, she sensed movement across the room. The man that was tied up, the one who answered questions with questions...he was now on his knees as one of the captors beat him with a gloved fist. The side of his face was turning purple from the hits, the corner of his mouth bleeding and a matching trickle sliding out from his one nostril. The other side of his face was already bruised, the yellowing tone showing that they were older and still healing. His hair was dirty, but she reasoned that if he were clean it would be a dark blond. His eyes were closed as he took one striking blow after another, his jaw clenched in stubborness as if he vowed not to let the men recieve pleasure from his passing out or crying for mercy. One of the men snapped a photograph of this poor man, the flash filling the room for a moment with bright light.

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This time Hollie wasn't unconscious when she was thrown in the dark room with the strange blond man. She was in a lot of pain...but not unconscious. And they were now in total darkness again. She thought of what had just happened, how he had taken all the pain...

"Are you ok?" she whispered across the room to where she thought he would be.

"I will be." The response came from one of the sidewalls rather than straight in front of her.

"Why did they do that?"

"To get their money...what do you think?" the bitter response bit back before she heard shuffling as he rose to his feet.

"What money?" she asked while he walked across the room, his movements whispering in the dark. She then heard the sound of his fists contacting the steel door, his hands no longer bound.

"Why are you asking all these questions?!" he exclaimed, suddenly coming closer to her.

"I think I have a right to know! I'm stuck in here too you know and not by my choosing!" Even as she boldly spoke, the pain in her ribcage grew stronger. "I made a mistake and turned down the wrong alley and the next thing I knew, I'm being shot at and kidnapped!"

She heard his sigh, heavy and upset.

"My name is Nickolas Gene Carter. I'm one of the five Backstreet Boys...you've probably heard of the group."

"Yes," she whispered before he continued. Even as she spoke, she remembered the article her own newspaper printed about the missing Backstreet Boy. Nobody knew what happened as their management released no statements. It was now all falling together.

"These guys...Hell, I don't know what their problem is. But they obviously want ten million dollars really bad. They seem to get a kick out of this. They shut me in here and then every few hours let me out. Sometimes they'll give me food and water and then others are like this last time. They beat me and take a picture."

"I'm so sorry..." she said softly as she felt him sink down against the wall next to her. He was a tall man, his body an obvious pressence next to hers. From the glimpse of him she got, she figured he was usually a very good looking man. Though she had heard of the group, she never really took the time to look at them. Their music was alright in her opinion, not really her type. But this man...Nick...he was so...so...Well, she couldn't figure out what he was but it was entrancing. Right now he was so helpless, wanting to be freed. Her heart went out to him, the hint of emotion filling her insides. She then thought about his hands again: strong, large...God...to feel those hands. Have them touch me. Oh my God...I'm falling for this man! Then she thought of his voice. It was soft and gentle, the kind you dream of whispering into you ear.

"Yeah, well..." he said with a sigh. "I know I'll get through this. I'm just worried about Mel and my family."

"Mel?" she asked, hoping her voice showed little dissappointment. "Is that some sort of pet?"

"No..." he said with a slight laugh. "She's my fiancee."

"Oh. I didn't know."

"That's alright. I'm just worried about her. She worries so much about me that right now she's a wreck, I know it. She's the greatest, though."

"Yeah..." Hollie replied. Mel? I don't know her, but I don't like her. I mean, I know I just met him...but what's wrong with me?

"You got anyone in your life?"

"No...I almost got married once but he backed out."

"That sucks. Do you know why?"

"He was cheating on me with my sister..."

"Oh...I'm sorry..." he replied as one arm came around her shoulders and he squeezed lightly.

"It's alright..." she replied, wincing at the pain but reveling in his touch. This Mel character better watch out. This man is too desirable to get married...

"That's something I don't have to worry about with Mel. First off, my brother's 12 so she's not interested in him. And her sister's married and almost 30. So we can't cheat with family!"

"You can cheat with someone who's not family..." she replied softly, her voice now thick and sweet.

Nick shook his head. "Naw...I love her too much."

The L word...dammit. I know I shouldn't be feeling like this. I hardly know him...but there's something. This whole situation in itself is enough to blow your mind. And now, I'm stuck in a dark room, alone, with a man who is so sexual it makes your body melt. And he isn't even trying to be sexy.

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Nick was growing accustomed to sleeping on the cold floor of the dark cell. It had to be about a week or so that he was in there. But to sleep in a real bed... he thought with a slight sigh as his eyes drifted shut. He could see the bedroom of his house...the house he shared with Mel. The bedroom was so nice...should be since Mel was an interior designer. She was one of the best in Florida...maybe even the US. Their room was heaven to Nick...a place to relax and get away from the stress of touring. She did it to resemble the ocean. The walls were a "pale beige" as she called it, and then there was a dark trim near the ceiling in green and blue. Their king size bed had sapphire colored sheets and a sandy colored bedspread that coordinated with the walls. Blue and green velvet thrown pillows were piled on the bed along with their bed pillows to make it a comfortable place to sit and lay all at once. The large TV across from the bed was a comprimise between them: she could decorate as long as he could have a TV to watch in bed. It was so peaceful during the day, but the room came alive at night. As he laid on his back on the hard floor, he thought about the nights. Their passionate love-making, sleeping in each other's arms...

He fell asleep thinking of Mel...and he dreamed about her that night. Vivid dreams that were so realistic he felt he could reach out and actually touch her.

As he slept, Hollie sat only a foot away, listening to him breath. He suddenly shifted and the slurred moan from his lips form a single word, Mel.

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The days seemed longer, Nick's beatings seemed harder and Hollie's wounds hardly began to heal. The two were losing hope in their rescue, and one day decided to free themselves. Unlike Hollie, Nick was conscious when they brought him in. He knew approximately where they were. He knew there had to be a way to escape.

No matter how hard they thought though, no means of escape were evident. The group of men holding them hostage was too large for one man and an injuried woman to get through. They needed a loophole, a way to wiggle free.

God apparantly listened to Nick and Hollie's prayers that night...

Nick was standing near the door when the guard opened it. The man was short and stocky, his balding head shining in the light filtering from the outer room. The loose grip on the gun in his hand showed little threat as he thought the captives were asleep. Suddenly, Nick's large hand closed around his wrist as the other contacted his face. The man was down in moments, Nick's muscle hard to match. Nick pried the gun from his hands and grabbed Hollie's arm, dragging her behind him. The outer room was empty as they snuck out, soon finding the warmth of early morning as they ran into the parking lot of the warehouse. Hollie stopped to catch her breath before she heard the sharp whirring of an engine.

"Come on!" Nick growled from his perch on the seat of the motorcycle. She quickly climbed on behind him, barely getting a grasp around his waist before he sped off.

"Must you drive so fast?!" she yelled, hoping he could hear her over the rushing wind around them.

"Yes..." he replied, his eyes falling to the mirror before he shifted to a higher gear and went faster. She needed little explination as she saw the dark car careening behind them. Suddenly an all too familiar whizzing sound of bullets filled her ears. They were being gunned down!

Nick swerved onto a ramp that converged with the freeway. They were soon dodging in and out of cars on their ways to work, their pursuers still too close for comfort. She closed her eyes and tightened her grip as he continued down the highway. He abruptly darted across the right lane and sped down an exit ramp, slowing down to turn right. They went a few more miles, now at a moderately slower speed, but still rather quickly.

"Where are we going?" she yelled, the unfamiliar scenery passing by in a blur.

"The police station first. Then I'm going home."

She remained silent, afraid that the end of their adventure would equate the last time she ever got to see him.

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"Nick!" The call echoed through the station as the petite woman ran through the hustle and bustle of officers working. Her long brown hair bounced in a mass of waves and curls around her pale face. The smile on her face was enough to light up the room as she ran into his arms, her own circling his rib cage. Her face buried into his chest as his chin rested on top of her head.

"I missed you, baby..." he whispered. She raised her face up to look at him, her green eyes sparkling with tears.

"Look at what they did to your face..." she whispered back, her fingers coming up to gently touch the bruises.

"It's ok...don't hurt that much..." he said with a small smile before leaning down to gently kiss her.

Hollie watched the whole scene, dissappointed and jealous...and trying not to show it. Her parents had been called, but she knew they wouldn't come get her. She'd prolly just hail a cab. They're so freaking perfect, it's disgusting. They'll go home and Nick will never think of me again. My life sucks...

"Hi, Hollie..." a soft voice interrupted her thought. She was now looking at the same woman who ran into Nick's arms: Mel. She was shorter than Hollie...pretty in her own way. Hollie put on a fake smile as the girl continued. "I'm Mel...Nick's fiancee. He's over filling out some paperwork or something. Do you have a ride home?"

"I don't think so..." Hollie replied, holding back the bitterness in her voice. Great...she's nice too.

"We can take you home if you want. I doubt it's that far out of the way. And you've been through so much...you're probably dying to get out of here..."

"That's quite alright. I'll find my way home." Hollie knew she was being a bitch. She didn't care.

"Is something wrong?"

"Oh, no. My life's perfect. I was shot, beat up, locked up, and malnurished for about a week and then I had a wonderful ride here on the back of a motorcycle with Evil Kneivel over there...why would anything be wrong?!"

"I'm sorry about what happened to you both...I really am." Mel stepped closer and pulled Hollie into a hug. "But I wasn't trying to upset you..."

"You didn't have to say anythign to upset me..." Hollie whispered, hoping Mel didn't hear. How was she to tell her that she's in love with the girl's fiancee?

"What?"

She heard...

Across the room, Nick motioned for Mel and the girls parted ways. Hollie then watched as the two left together, hand in hand.

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Nick was in heaven. He was in his bedroom, lying in bed with the love of his life curled against his naked side beneath the blankets. The feeling of skin on skin was intoxicating as he sighed contently.

Mel shifted against his side and then yawned, blinking open her eyes. She looked up at him sleepily and smiled.

"Hello there sleepy head..." he whispered, his deep blue eyes sparkling like the ocean on a sunny day.

"'Allo..." she replied, quickly landing a light kiss on the tip of his nose. She then scrambled out of his loose embrace to slide out of bed.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked with a laugh as he caught her wrist in a large hand.

Throwing a look over her shoulder, she tugged her arm free and then walked to the bathroom. She closed the door behind her as he settled back on the pillows with a smug smile on his lips. After a few minutes, his impatience overwhelmed him. He got out of bed and walked to the bathroom door, rapping lightly on the wood with two knuckles.

"Entre!" God, he loved when she spoke French...

He stepped inside to find her standing in front of the mirror brushing out the tangles from her hair. His hands came to her waist, turning her to face him as she set the brush on the counter. Pulling her body close to his, he captured her lips passionately as desire ran through both their bodies in a heated wave.

Suddenly, a loud banging noise slamming against the walls interuppted the moment. The sound of shattering glass and bullets hitting the walls of their bedroom filled the house. Thinking quickly, Nick pushing Mel into the tiled shower stall, following her as the onslaught of ammunition continued through the house. Minutes later, the noise stopped and the sound of squealing tires echoed down the street.

"Are you alright?" Nick asked softly, looking down at Mel who was shivering in his arms. She wasn't shivering from cold...but from fear. Picking her up easily, he carried her out to their room which was now a mess of broken glass and destroyed possessions. Grabbing clothing for both of them, they got dressed and ran down the stairs. Nick soon was speeding through the gates and down the street away from their home.

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They got to Hollie's too late. The house was already destroyed. They called 911 on the way and got there a few moments after the police. An amublance sped down the street and came to a halt, the paramedics inside rushing out and into the house. What emerged on the strecher hardly seemed human but rather a pool of blood and flesh.

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"Now she was a friend of your's, Mr. Carter?" the doctor asked, taking off his glass.

"Yes."

"Ok. We have stabalized her. But we don't know if she'll ever be able to walk again. She suffered from quite a few flesh wounds, the one bullet also striking her spinal column."

"Can we see her?"

The doctor nodded and led them to her room. She was laying on the bed, pale and bandaged. Surrounded by the machinery she seemed so out of place.

"Hollie?" Nick asked as he and Mel entered the room.

Her eyes opened and settled on him. "Hi..." she weakly replied.

Nick talked to her for a little while as Mel sat quietly in a chair against the wall. Nick then stood up from his seat by the bed, getting ready to leave when Mel told him softly, "Let me talk to her for a moment. Wait outside..."

Nick nodded and pressed a quick kiss to her forhead before walking out of the room and closing the door behind him.

Mel slowly sat down by the bed, Hollie's eyes averted. Choosing her words carefully, she began to speak. "Hollie...I know you don't really like me, and today...I think I figured out why. You're in love with him, aren't you?"

"What's it to you?" Hollie spat out at her, a scowl deepening on her face.

"Because I think we could be friends. You and Nick get along great...and I can tell you're a good person. But you must understand. Nick and I have known each other for so many years. We've been in love almost from the moment we met. We've been through so much together. So many women are in love with him...and I can't blame them. He's attractive, sweet...and well, I don't think you need me to go on."

"Why are you doing this?"

Mel's eyes lowered before she whispered. "Because I know how you feel. And I want to be your friend. I don't have many. I have Nick. I have acquaintences. But most people only want to associate with me because of Nick. And they want to associate with him because he's famous. It's a very lonely existence. And I know you aren't after Nick for the fame..."

Hollie suddenly felt a wave of guilt. She hadn't thought about it before. She was being selfish, a quality she disliked gravely. "I'm sorry..."

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"I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride..."

Nick raised the thin fabric over Mel's head with a smile before he pressed his lips to hers. In the small gathering of friends and family, Hollie was seated in the second row behind Nick's parents. She dabbed at the tears in her eyes as she watched two of her closest friends walk back down the aisle, now married. She exchanged a smile with Mel as she passed by before she felt a hand touch her knee. She turned to her right, her eyes meeting a pair of soft blue eyes framed with dark lashed. Mark, a co-worker of Mel's, smiled back at her. She then thought back over the past few months. Once she and Mel reconciled and she went through physical therapy, Mel introduced her to Mark. The doctor had been wrong...she walked fine. She had been wrong herself in thinking she loved Nick. Lust was more like it... Now she had found what she wanted: happiness. The congrigation slowly filtered out into the warm autumn sunshine, the soft rumble of voices filling the crisp air. Hollie hated what she had to go through, but she found two good friends and love all from being shot at. Maybe it was a good decision to walk down that alley...