Hold it together. Don't upset him. Wait for the police. Stay alive. Help is coming.

The words circled around and around in Joselyn's rattled mind. If she was honest with herself, she was not nearly as calm as the voice pretended. McClane activated the silent alarm when he came in so Detective Jameson and the New Orleans Police should be arriving at any moment. That is if he didn't know the new code. She mentally slammed the door on the thought. There was no way he would know it; she had to believe it. The monitoring company would wait one minute for the code to be turned off in case it was an accident. When the minute passed, they would notify the police. Given the traffic this time of day, it would take between twelve and eighteen minutes for them to arrive, another minute to get through the gate and then on to her house. Twenty minutes... she had to stall him for twenty minutes. Glancing at the clock again, she bit her lip. Eleven minutes had already passed. She hoped she could last another nine but she wasn't sure she could. Already he was undressing her, touching her, licking her skin as it became visible to him. She thought of Betty downstairs in her little box and silently cursed one of Maddox's favorites. Cleaned or not, she should have kept the weapon with her, loaded and ready to go as he had taught her.

Maddox.

Crippling agony slammed into her at the memory of seeing his still body dangling from her wall. At first, she hadn't been able to understand what McClane was showing her. Then realization dawned on her and she shattered. Maddox was dead? No! He couldn't be! He was too strong, right?

Her attention snapped back to the present moment as cool air caressed the bare skin of her back. Crossing her arms over her chest she drew a ragged breath. "Please... please don't do this."

The chuckle sounding in her ear sent ice cold daggers of terror straight to her heart. "You beg so prettily. I can't wait to hear your cries of terror. I'll drink each one from your lips like the finest of wine. There will be seven in total, one for each letter of our perfect names." He tugged her arms free, releasing the dress to fall at her feet in a puddle of deep amethyst. Grasping her chin, he held her face as he pulled her lips to his. Smashing them together, he forced her lips apart, thrusting his tongue deep inside. Her whimper of repulsion turned to a scream of pain. White-hot agony slammed into her as she felt something warm gush along her shoulder and arm. Ripping herself away from him, she gasped to see a long ragged cut mar her left shoulder. Crimson welled up between her fingers as she tried to staunch the flow dripping over her breast and splattering on the carpet.

"Exquisite," he moaned, reaching down and starting to unzip his pants.

One moment she was staring in horror as his hand on his zipper and in the next, she saw a blur as she was flung onto the bed. Bouncing once, she scrambled over the soft surface leaving red handprints behind until she slid off the other side. Curling against the wall, she fought off a wave of dizziness and nausea which threatened to swamp her. She gritted her teeth, grabbed a handful of tissues from the box on her nightstand and shoved them to her shoulder. Holding her palm against the bone-deep cut pouring blood, she looked for McClane to see why he had not pounced on her.

She blinked. Surely the blood loss she was suffering was playing tricks on her eyes. On the other side of the bed, two men fought and grappled. The larger one, the one on top was as familiar to her as her own name.

Maddox, oh dear God, her Maddox was alive and he was currently beating the living crap out of Douglas McClane.

* * *

River hurt. His head ached, his throat burned and his fingers were almost broken but he was alive. Thank God and Uncle Sam for his training. Throwing his hand up to grab the cord and keep it from crushing his windpipe had saved his life. Waking several minutes later with a horrible headache and blood dripping along his jaw from McClane's kick was better than the alternative. The same wouldn't be true for Joselyn's assailant when he got his hands on him. Movement caught his eye and he stiffened as Joselyn's terrified face appeared in the window of her bedroom. Behind her, he could make out another shape.

McClane.

Feigning death, River remained perfectly still and focused on breathing shallowly. Regretting the pain he knew this was causing her, he forced himself to stay motionless. McClane needed to think he was no longer a threat. Catching the murdering rapist off guard was his only hope.

When the two disappeared from the window, River pulled his leg up, dug under the cuff of his jeans and removed his Ka-bar. From there it was only a couple of swipes against the cord and he was on the ground, tugging the rope from his throat and gasping breaths. Not taking the time to find his sidearm, he curled the Ka-bar in his fist and sprinted for the front door. His bruised fingers didn't want to hold his keys and he almost dropped them twice before he could get the door open. Glancing at the panel, he saw the amber light indicating the silent alarm had been tripped. Good. The police would be here soon. If McClane was lucky, they may even get here fast enough to save his life. For everything he had put Joselyn through, Douglas McClane was going to die tonight if River got his way.

Leaving the door open, he crossed the entry, hurried past her office and took the stairs two at a time. Moving silently, he slowed as he reached the landing and listened. Inside, McClane was explaining how he was still alive and Donovan was not. Brothers? Huh, he sure hadn't thought of that little twist. Pressing himself against the wall beside the door, River reached over and slowly turned the knob. It wasn't locked. Too damned easy.

He listened to the conversation a few more minutes and fury colored his vision a deep red. Taking several breaths to clear his head, he forced himself to remain calm. Don't go in there half-cocked, Benson. Hold it together. You lose your shit and Joselyn will pay the price. Keep it together.

All the wonderful advice he gave himself vanished the moment he heard her beg the bastard to stop. The callous reply from McClane had him shaking. Calm. Stay in control. Wait. Wait.

Every little pain racking his body disappeared when he heard Joselyn's muffled scream. In an instant, he was through the door. Taking in the scene for a split second, River registered the shocked look of disbelief on McClane's face and Joselyn's pale face as she slapped her hand over her bare shoulder. His body tensed like a coil when he realized she was completely naked and bleeding. Streams of blood welled between her fingers and splashed to the carpet beneath. His vision turned as scarlet as her blood. With a roar of rage, River slammed his shoulder into McClane, knocking him to the floor. In one smooth motion, he picked up Joselyn and tossed her on the bed out of harm's way. Whirling around he snarled. Maddox knelt over the man who dared to touch his woman and commenced to, as Uncle Aaron would say, 'Stomp a mudhole in his ass and walk it dry'.

Fists rained upon the body caught under him. Ignoring the flairs of pain from each slam of his injured hand, he reveled in the blood flying from McClane's nose and lip. He knew he should stop as his opponent lay unconscious but all he could see were the looks of terror on Joselyn's face, the words written on the side of the barn... her creamy shoulder as blood welled forth. Her naked body being touched by this madman. His fists flew faster and harder as the thick stench of blood filled the air.

"Maddox?"

He ignored the sound of her voice. As long as McClane drew a breath, she was in danger. His knife, he needed the Ka-bar. Stopping a moment, he looked around the floor for his blade. Movement caught his attention and he zeroed in on Joselyn huddling in the corner.

"Please? Maddox..." she whispered as her eyes rolled back and she slumped over. With the loss of pressure on her shoulder, the soaked paper she had used fell away and warm blood ran sluggishly over her breast to land on the floor in fat red drops.

"Joselyn!" He bolted to his feet and flew to her. Gently he laid her prone on the floor. Grabbing the blanket off the end of her bed, he draped it over her bare body. He gathered a handful of the fabric and pressed it to her shoulder. "Joselyn? Honey, wake up. Please, I can't lose you, not now, not when I finally know what I want with the rest of my life. It's you, sweetheart. Everything else doesn't matter. I need you because you are the best part of me. I love you, honey." He pushed his head against her chest, holding his breath to listen for her heartbeat. Relief slid through him as he detected the faint slow whom-whom signaling she was still alive; still here with him.

There was a sound behind him. River threw himself over Joselyn to partially cover her body and protect her from whatever was coming their way. Looking behind him, he saw a monster stalking toward them. Fury etched on Douglas McClane's battered face as he lurched forward with River's Ka-bar clenched in his fist. Spittle flew from his lip as he snarled.

Beautiful dreams in restful sleep,

but never to wake or repose in peace.

My beautiful rose, the day has come,

for you and your soldier's lives are done.

He lurched forward and River threw up an arm to deflect the blade. Ignoring the searing bite of pain, he jerked when the loud report of gunfire echoed in the room. Douglas McClane's one unswollen eye widened in shock as he fell forward to land on his knees before toppling forward onto River.

"Violets are blue, roses are red, guess what asshole, now you're dead. And, by the way, he's a SEAL, not a damned Army grunt."

River would have laughed at Bull's impromptu poetry but he didn't have the strength. "Bull, she's hurt," he croaked.

Bull pulled Douglas McClane's body off his friend and kicked a long black blade away. "So are you," he hissed and yelled over his shoulder to get the paramedics in here immediately. "Don't move. Stay still."

Looking down in confusion, River saw more blood pooling under his hip. Shock registered when he realized from where it originated. The hilt of his Ka-bar was sticking out of his side. McClane must have fallen on it as he died, pushing it into River's body. Funny, River didn't even feel it.

Until now.