Dying Embers

Brett opened the door to her oddly silent apartment. Diego wasn't running to greet her like he usually did.
"Diego?" she called. No response. Running to her room, she flung open the door and saw her dog in the corner. He was moving slightly. Someone drugged him. Brett felt someone grab her from behind and clamp a hand over her mouth. She writhed against her attacker, nailing him in the groin with her fist. She turned around, ready to face her assailant, and saw Grayson.
"Grayson!" she squeaked. Her boyfriend.
"What the hell are you doing in my apartment?" she demanded. Grayson gave her a sick smile.
"Why can't I come to see my favorite girl?" he asked. Brett hadn't forgiven him yet for hitting her.
"What did you do to Diego?" she cried, running to her dog. Diego's head lifted, then slumped back down.
"He tried to bite me, so I sedated him", Grayson replied, as if it were obvious.
"Get out, Grayson", Brett said, pointing to the door. Grayson shook his head no.
"No, I don't think I will", he replied conversationally, as though Brett had asked him something menial. Brett slid her hand into her pocket and pulled out her cell.
"Grayson, get out! We're through! You hit me and now you drug my dog? Get out!" she yelled. She tried to leave her bedroom, but Grayson grabbed her. She knew he was controlling and aggressive, but not abusive.

"You're not breaking up with me. No one breaks up with me", he replied, tossing her on the bed. Brett kicked him off, running for the bathroom. Grayson grabbed her ankle, knocking her cellphone out of her hand and sending it skittering across the floor. Brett writhed against him, trying her best to beat him down. Grayson was a good six feet, two inches and about two hundred pounds of solid muscle. Brett was only five feet, eight inches and a good one hundred and five pounds. She landed a good kick to his ribs and ran to her apartment door. She had to get her piece. She felt something hit her head and she stumbled to the ground, everything turning black. When she woke up, her head was pounding. She looked down and saw her hands and feet were bound.

"You stupid woman, you actually thought you could escape me? If you ever try to leave me again, I will kill you", Grayson said, twirling a knife in his fingers. Brett heard a knock on the door.
"Hey, Brett, you forgot your purse at my place, I was just dropping it off", she heard someone yell. It was Don. He knocked again.
"Send your little lover away", Grayson said, cutting the ties.
"Say one thing wrong, and I'll kill you both". Brett walked to the door and opened it slightly.
"Oh, hey. I have Grayson here, so I can't really talk right now", she said to Don. She gave him a pleading look, hoping he'd get the message and leave. She flinched as Don touched her lips and looked at his thumb.
"You're bleeding, are you okay?" he asked. Brett nodded, taking her purse.
"See you at work tomorrow", she replied. Don leaned forward.
"Call me when he leaves", he whispered in her ear. Tears sprang to Brett's eyes, knowing she probably wouldn't be able to keep that promise. She nodded and went to close the door. She glared at Grayson, who was smiling sickly.

"I hate you. I hate you so much", she said furiously. She went for her gun, but Grayson was too fast. He grabbed her gun and pulled the trigger. A bullet seared into her leg and Brett let out a screech as a sensation as hot as a billion burning suns spread throughout her thigh. She stumbled onto the floor, dragging herself into the bedroom. He was going to kill her, she had to reach her backup piece. She stumbled through her nightstand drawer and found the familiar shape of her nine mil. She pulled the trigger and watched Grayson fall back, clutching his chest. Her apartment door was kicked open and officers flooded in. One of the detectives was Sawyer.

"Fox, are you okay?" she asked, rushing to her. Brett could barely stand and she collapsed onto the ground. She clutched the side of her table, trying to stand.
"I'm fine", she replied weakly. Elizabeth helped her stand up and Brett leaned against her for support.
"She's been shot", Quinn said, pressing on the gunshot.
"So has Grayson", Elizabeth pointed out. Unis were swarming around Brett, asking what has happened. Don ran into the apartment.
"You okay, Brett?" he asked. He shoved past the uniforms and knelt down in front of her. His eyes set on Brett's thigh and cursed. A paramedic carried her to the ambulance.
"An officer will take your statement when you get to the hospital", the paramedic said. Brett tried to relax through the haze of pain. When she was rushed into a room after having the bullet removed from her leg, Brett noticed a bunch of her co-workers were there.

"Hey guys", she said, leaning back against the bed. She'd gotten stitched up.
"Hey, Rodeo, how you holding up?" Elizabeth asked. Brett shrugged.
"I'm in pain, but it's slowly going down", she replied.
"Well, Don's here to take your statement, I have to run, but call me later", Elizabeth said, waving. She walked out quickly, the others following. Don sat down by the bed and looked at her.
"What the hell happened?" he asked. Brett sighed and looked away.
"I walked into my apartment and it was quiet. Diego always barks and comes to see me when I get home, and there was nothing", she replied. He nodded, writing it down.
"I only remember bits of it...but I remember going into my room and getting a hand over my mouth and pinning my arms to my side", she continued. She leaned her head back, trying to think. Her head hurt immensely.
"There were defensive wounds on Grayson, so you fought back. Take your time, you've had a concussion", Don said, stroking her hand. Brett nodded, closing her eyes tight.
"I stopped by your apartment around ten thirty, a quarter to eleven. What happened before then?" he asked.
"I dropped my phone, I remember, and I got him off of me and ran for my door, but something hit me in the head and I passed out. When I woke up, I was tied up and you knocked on the door", Brett replied. He nodded, writing it down.
"I don't remember after that", she said quietly.

"Like I said, take your time. Do you remember pulling the trigger?" Don asked. Brett shook her head.
"No, I don't", she replied. Everything made her head hurt.
"Did he rape you?" Don asked. Brett shook her head.
"No, I don't believe he did", she replied. She looked out the window with a sigh.
"I'll be here if you need me, Brett. A forensic nurse will be here soon to take samples, but after that, I'll be back", he said. Brett smiled gratefully at him.
"Thanks, that really means a lot. I know I haven't been the best person to be around lately", she replied. He squeezed her hand.
"It's okay. You've had a rough couple of days, and it's only gonna get worse from here", he said. She frowned, then winced. Her concussion was hurting her head. She let out a big yawn, causing Don to do the same.
"Stop, yawning is contagious", Don said. Brett chuckled and laid her head down on the pillow. She looked up at him.
"Will you wake me up when the nurse comes? I'm exhausted", she requested. Don nodded.
"I could use some shut-eye myself", he replied. She frowned.
"I don't want you losing sleep on my account", she said.
"I have insomnia. I think this just cured it though", he replied. Brett sat up and got him a pillow, laying her head back onto her own.

"G'night, Flack", Brett yawned, closing her eyes. She felt safe knowing he was in the room. She always felt safe when he was around.