I wanted to believe that being in Jim Moriarty's capture was just a bad dream.

When I woke up in a different bed, without Bayley, I knew that it wasn't. I knew that it was real. That my fiancé, my dad and his best friend, they didn't know where I disappeared to. My best friend, she was stuck in this with me. She was being put through God knew what because of me.

I had to wonder: where would Mandy be if I hadn't told her about Moriarty? Would it have spared her this?

The bed was uncomfortable when I woke. This felt like a glorified prison. You could do what you wanted within reason. I found a den room with a TV a few days ago, so I busied myself with crap shows. There was no chance of a smartphone or Internet around to help me get a message out to someone.

Like Mandy, I was trapped.

I opened the closet that the room had, seeing that the wardrobe was nothing but business casual things. I sighed. The man doesn't know the meaning of the word comfortable. He must think comfort is wearing a suit 24/7. What I wouldn't give to wrap that tie around his neck and strangle him with it. It'd probably turn him on more than piss him off.

I picked out my clothes before meandering to the bathroom, where I took a long, hot shower. I made sure that the water was cold for the next person who wanted to clean themselves off. As I dressed and towel-dried my hair, I saw myself in the mirror above the bathroom sink. The girl I saw was trapped and desperately wanted out.

In bare feet, I padded down the halls towards the den room. The TV was already on, with a news broadcast. News of my abduction and Mandy's wasn't present anywhere. Why would it be? Who are we to London?

I twisted the engagement ring around my finger. I was surprised Moriarty didn't swipe that off me during my time being unconscious. How much does he really know? What secrets can I keep from this man? My bet: little to none.

Bayley, I hope you and the rest are busting your asses to find Mandy and me. We could really use some rescuing right now. Until you do find us, we'll try and fight.

"Never thought of a career as a businesswoman?" drawled the Irish lilt. "Because you look absolutely stunning."

"Hmm, where's the mute button for you?" I joked bitterly, looking at the remote.

"Always trying to bust a pair, typical Rachel." He chuckled. "We're going on a trip."

I raised a brow. "Yeah, I'm not going anywhere with you. The last time that I did willingly...Well, you and I both know how that worked out for me."

"I'm giving you the opportunity to leave, and you're turning it down? I guess I can always ask your friend. She'd leap at that chance, unlike you."

I snorted. "Even though I'm saying no, can I ask what for?"

"Business, of course." He adjusted his cuffs. "I figured I could bring you along so you could see what really goes on behind the scenes."

"Not really interested, thanks."

"Oh, darling, you forget. I'm not giving you an option here." His smile turned sinister. "If you're adamant about refusing, Amanda will get the worst wakeup call in her life."

I licked my lips. I can't call a bluff when there won't be one. She's already going through enough. I can't let her get hurt all because I said "no". "You're not secretly shipping me off to where you're going to kill me, are you?"

He tutted. "Your lack of faith hurts me, kitten."

I quirked my mouth. His eyes downcast to my hands. "Problem?"

I saw a darkness in his eyes. "That ring. Whoever you're stuck with, he stole you from me."

"You ruined our fake romance," I pointed out. "That's not on my fiancé, that's all on you."

"And you," he threw back at me. "Hmm, how is Bayley, by the way?"

I paled. Crap. "Do you remember him?"

"Oh, yes. He had one job, and he didn't do it properly. I was sure he'd bled out somewhere when he tried to leave."

"I guess you underestimated him," I said proudly.

"Don't worry, when he comes—because I'm sure he'll be right on Sherlock and John's heels—I'll make sure he doesn't walk away this time." A coolness washed over his face. "Now, if we keep squabbling, we'll be late. I have a thing with punctuality."

"You also have a thing with murdering people and kidnapping them."

"Always with the attitude." He pulled my arm through his, and he escorted me out.

It was a sunny day, and a black car awaited us. I glanced over my shoulder to see that Mandy and I were housed in a two story house that was either a mansion or easily mistakable for one.

I kept my hair over my chest once we got settled into the car. I was half-tempted to jump out of the car once we were moving to try and see if I could get away. But Mandy won't fend for herself. She'll pay. I wasn't that reckless to risk her life. It would be crappy of me to do that to her.

"Don't speak a word when we get there," Moriarty told me.

"Oh, I'm just eye-candy," I snorted. "I should've seen that coming."

"Who knows? If you stick around long enough, you'll get an affinity for it."

"That's never gonna happen."

"The mind works in mysterious ways."

I shook my head and looked out of the car window the rest of the ride.

Our destination was the docks. The temperature felt cooler when we got out of the car.

"Slight change of plans," Moriarty said. He reached for my ear, sticking something in there.

"The hell is this?"

"You don't honestly believe that I'm going there in person, do you?"

"It sounded like it."

"Sometimes it's better if my clients don't know my face."

"Because they make you want to piss yourself? Because they're scarier than you?"

"Because I have a reputation to uphold. You'll do the talking for me. You get in, you get out, and we go back and relax."

I frowned. "What about us spending time together?"

"This is us spending time together. I'll whisper things in your ear, and you parrot them out. I'll be able to listen to your conversation through that earpiece too. Don't worry, I've got men around the perimeter, so if anyone tries something on you, they'll stop them before you're in too much danger."

"Gee, thanks."

"Now, go on. You'll know them when you see them."

Fuming, I walked down the dock, Moriarty and the car shrinking behind me with each step. I want to run for it. Damn his stupid leverage! Speaking of leverage, he hadn't once mentioned the pictures of Sherlock and me. Maybe that wasn't him? Maybe that was a separate incident?

The sea breeze tugged at my skirt and my hair, and a shiver ran through me.

I knew what I was getting myself into when I saw a sharply dressed woman flanked by two armed men. She was dressed all in white, a sore thumb.

"Don't muck this up, kitten."

"No pressure."

"You look lost, dear," said the woman as I approached.

"I'm not," I said bravely. I didn't know who I was talking to, just that she was dangerous and that if I made a wrong move, I would pay a heavy price. "Girls like me don't get lost wearing this." I gestured to my clothes.

"Ah, an American." She scoffed. "I was expecting him, not one of his whores."

Excuse me? "I guess you earn the right to see his identity. Clearly you haven't."

"He called for this meeting. What is it about? I've got things to get back to."

"Time to get to work, Rachel," said Moriarty. "You're standing in the presence of Miss Vivian Whitehall. I took care of something for her, and she hasn't paid up. She claims that she has, but she's already wasted what she owes me for her own selfish purposes."

"You know exactly why he called for this, Miss Whitehall," I said. Her brown eyes widened in curiosity. "He's found out you've been playing dirty."

"I don't know what you mean."

"I think you do." I shivered. "He helped you, you owe him."

"I already paid him."

"You didn't. You spent it elsewhere." I tutted. "Did you spend it on your own whores, Miss Whitehall?" I didn't know where this bravery was coming from. This isn't bravery, it's anger.

"Why, you little bitch," she snarled. She grabbed me harshly on my neck, just under my chin. "He hasn't taught you manners."

"Listen, the gig is up. He knows you cheated him on his money."

"He's clearly delusional."

"He would beg to disagree there, heavily." I coughed.

"How about you tell him that if he wants the money, he can come get it himself."

"Ah, there's the confession," Moriarty hissed. "I hope she realizes that I really will get my money, one way or another."

"I'll make sure to relay the message," I rasped to Miss Whitehall. "J-just a note: if you want someone to be mad at, be mad at the man you hired, not his messenger."

"Well, I can't harm him right now. I have to settle for you." I saw the gleam of a small blade in my eyes. "I'll make sure he gets the message." I cried out as she dug the blade into my right cheek.

You have no idea who you're messing with. Please let this bite you, hard.

"This is just the start," she crooned. The point of the blade was coming towards my eye.

BANG. BANG.

Two shots rang out. Both of Whitehall's men fell at her feet behind her. She looked over her shoulder, hand still holding my neck.

"I think you forgot that you hired him, not the other way around," I croaked. "You better let me go before you get a bullet in your eye."

Whitehall released me, and I buckled to the floor, coughing violently. I heard her scoff above me. "The next time he wants to meet, tell your employer I want to see him," she sneered.

"I-I think he got the message," I wheezed. "You better run off before you join your men."

Flustered, Miss Whitehall stalked away from the docks, leaving her two dead armed men in her wake. I touched the cut on my cheek. It dribbled blood, she didn't hit anything critical. Since I got radio silence from Moriarty, I took the chance and raided the dead bodies (never thought I'd be so desperate to do so until now). I found the smallest pistol I could and tucked it away somewhere safe.

Recollecting myself, still slightly pissed that I got in harm's way, I marched back to the car, where Moriarty waited, leaning casually against the car.

"You said I wasn't going to get hurt," I snarled.

"You weren't."

"Do you not see the cut on my face?!"

"It's a scratch, love. Those heal. Besides, I sent her the message. She backed off once I killed her men."

My fingers twitched, my mind stuck on the pistol tucked away against my back. "Next time, put yourself in the line of fire. I want no part of this."

"You don't get a choice in what you do and don't want, Rachel." His face turned dark. "If you know what's best for you, and your friend Amanda, and your exposing photographs, you'll fall in line like a good girl. Now," he (shockingly) politely opened the door for me, "get in."

I raised my head as I started to climb in the car. "Hey!" I spun and reached as I felt hands grab towards my back. I was met with the pistol I pillaged from earlier staring at my stomach.

Moriarty tisked. "You didn't think I was going to let you get in without looking for weapons, did you, love?"

I snorted derisively. "Give it back."

"Get in the car." He examined the weapon. "You should've hidden it better. This right here is why you won't ever get an upper hand over me."

Grudgingly, feeling the pistol's gaze on my back as I turned towards the open door, I climbed into the car. Moriarty tucked the pistol away as he got in and shut the door.

It was a very tense, silent ride back.