Waiting For Eden (Eden Series) (25 page)

The world was full of stupid sluts that continually fucked over every part of his life
with their inane bullshit. 
Fucking Andrea!
Marcus ceased to see anything but a red film of burning rage.  Women were the root of all evil, back to the very first, that wicked slut named Eve. 

He brought to mind the vision of Alexandra Winters, whimpering with both fear and wanting beneath him.  He needed to violate every single part of that little
bitches body.  Bring her to heel beneath him.  Then, he would move on to test her tolerance for much, much worse.

Finally
, mercifully, jetted his hot seed all over Andrea’s back. Marcus dimly came to realize that he might actually have two dead women on the bed.  But… he had blessedly come.

P
erhaps he had choked dear Andrea just a bit too hard this time.  Was she really dead too?  The idea of it all made him laugh out loud. Of all the times he had come close to killing her for her ridiculously low I.Q., it had to actually happen today.  Just a few seconds too much pressure, and wham.  It said something about him, though, something very negative.  His control, his accuracy, was definitely slipping.

After showering and dressing, h
e rolled the bodies of both women in the sheets and comforter like stupid, little mummies, their mouths wrapped shut forever, and backed his BMW to the door. 

Luckily, there was no blood. 
But, even if the local yokels figured out that a crime had been committed, and managed to find his DNA, he was untraceable.  There was no real Marcus Allen.  How could you trace someone who never actually had a given name?

Once they were loaded, and the room straightened, with an extra two
Benjamins thrown on the bed for the cost of the covers, he took a grateful moment to sit in the driver’s seat, with the circulated air on full blast, simply breathing.  In and out, in and out, cool, sterile air.  He rubbed his temples; he relaxed the knots in his shoulders. 

So soothing. 
God, he loved this car.  It was the only thing that could alleviate his stress. Those few moments were all that it took to bring his heart rate back to a cool 62 beats per minute, and sharpen his vision to full, keen clarity. 

Marcus knew he had one more stop to make before he disappeared into another state, another name, another persona,
just as he always did.  He needed his full mental acuity.  If he played this game just right, somewhere in the solitude of Eden Ranch, he could allow Alexandra Winters to scream.

Waiting for Eden

~*~*~*~*~*~

Chapter 21

Jamie watched the bounce and glint of Alex’s hair
as she cantered her stallion off and down the lane.  Both human and equine manes shimmered alike in the waning afternoon sunlight that filtered intermittently through the distant gathering clouds. He allowed himself to appreciate the smooth curve of her ass, tilted just a little to fit the burnished leather saddle beneath it.  Gorgeous picture all around.

There was something awe-inspiring about a
hot, athletic woman on horseback that could not be measured in terms of sex appeal – it was simply art, pure and natural.  It made him hard and want to write poetry all in the same moment.  He chuckled to himself at the thought. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket, pulling him from his rampantly churning thoughts and after-sex glow.  His little brother was calling.

“Hey Aaron.”

“Jamie,
I can’t find Tracey.”  His brother sounded frazzled and edgy.  “Did you hear from her?”

“No, but I can’t see why she’d call me right now.”  Jamie scratched his head and sighed.  “Did you check out Cherryville?”

“Yeah,” Aaron responded dourly, “and she
was
there – at Cherryville.  For a bit.  Only a couple of drinks, the bartender said.  But apparently, she got picked up.”

“By who?”  Jamie hoped it wasn’t her drunken father.

“The bartender didn’t actually know.  But she said it was a black BMW.”

Jamie felt a stir of deepening unease in his gut.  “
There’s only one guy I know in this area whose been driving a Beamer around.  Michael Dalton, one of Alex’s yuppie clients.”

Aaron ground his teeth through the phone.  “Of course
, Alex would be involved in this.”

“No, Aaron, she wouldn’t be.  She dropped this client a week ago.  He was getting pushy… he was a real city kind of dick. 
Big money, all ego.  Not the type to go after Tracey at all, either, so I don’t get why-“

Aaron burst over him impatiently.  “Because Tracey was furious at you for screwing Alex and this guy was available.  Just don’t get how he found her.”

Jamie checked his impatience at the barbed comment, and thought a moment.  “Doubt it was chance,” he ventured, voicing his increasing concern.  “Michael Dalton was exactly the kind to hold a grudge against Alex’s dismissal... but I don’t get how it would involve Tracey.”

“Well, we certainly need to find out.  I can tell you where Tracey’s at, at least mentally.  And it’s no place good,” Aaron groaned. 

Jamie closed his eyes briefly over the pain and uncertainty in his younger brother’s voice.  He’d been there many times before, too.  Eventually, though, your heart just hardened. 

“I’ll call Alex, she
should be getting home soon,” he offered.  I will get this Dalton’s cell number from her and we’ll give him a friendly little ring.”

“Okay
, bro,” said Aaron.  “I hope he answers, and he tells us something truthful.  It’s all we have, so far.”

~~~~~~~

The bedroom was dark and full of menacing shadows.  Mouse had never even drawn open his curtains from the morning, in order to keep the cooler air inside during the heat of the day.  He was lying in the center of his bed, his large body causing the mattress to depress and his lower back to ache.  He didn’t want to move, though.  He wanted to cover himself and stay in the dark, quiet room for the whole evening long. 

The shadows continued to climb the walls in a jerky dancing manner, and made him think about spiders creepy crawling.  And dead
, black roses too.  He just couldn’t seem to stop thinking about it. 

Mouse was ashamed for running away from Alex’s like a baby.  He was a big
, grown man, and pretty strong too, just like Jamie said he was.  So why was he so scared? 

His thoughts kept returning to the lady’s face.  Sad and frightened.  She
hadn’t
wanted to hurt him, she was the
nice
lady.  She was hurt, too, for it was
her
wrist that was bleeding after all, not Mouse’s.  And he had torn off like a banshee wailing down the road, until his toes turned all had red and painful blisters sprouted in the swollen wake.   

What if the lady wanted to actually talk to him?  What if she needed help? 

Mouse sat up and inched himself over to the side of the bed until his bare feet touched the floorboards.  His toes ached with the ugly pulsing blisters.  The big one that had formed on his right heel throbbed too.  There was no way he could run all the way back.  He could call Jamie, but he would really sound dumb and silly.  How would he explain himself with the right words, ones that actually made sense?

Mouse knew
that he needed to go back alone and see if the lady would talk to him.  He should help her, for she had always been good to him whenever he missed his Mum. And no one else would understand that.

He pushed himself off the bed, already missing the cozy warmth of his safe spot.  He
stepped quietly through the hallway and peeped into the living room.  It was their day off from the North Fork, so his Dad was home.  But he was passed out on the couch, with the TV blaring like usual, and six empty cans of Schlitz on the coffee table beside him.  That was actually good news.

Moving with purpose now, Mouse headed out the back door and toward the equipment shed.  His Dad would probably not wake up for a
long while, and would never even notice or hear that Mouse had borrowed the dirt-bike for a bit.  And even if he did find out, Mouse realized that he didn’t care too much after all.  He was needed.

~~~~~~~

When Alexandra trotted a slightly winded Bold Venture up her long lane, the stallion still managed to lift his tail like a flag in the breeze, and arch his powerful neck for his
mares, who regarded him with doe eyes as they grazed daintily in the lush, green pastures.

“You tool,” she scolded him laughingly, “they are not even in heat.  You’ve got them all bred up
, big boy.  Don’t waste your T.”  She allowed her hand to drift over the gorgeously muscled neck – a stallion’s characteristically thick crest that only equine testosterone created.  It was both smooth and sweaty.

Alex then eyed her sleek mares appreciatively, anticipated the following summer.  Fuzzy, shiny, cavorting babies would abound.  Equines had an eleven month gestation period, so it was a long wait after the breeding period, but oh so worth it.  All was good in the world.

Then she noticed a familiar silver Lexus in the driveway, and her pleasant mood fizzled away abruptly.  Brian Ridgeway was back, yet again.  With a wry look at the sky, she duly noted how they had swiftly darkened and grayed over with the approach of a miserable evening.  Even the air had grown thick and dank with cloying humidity and the promise of wicked storms.

When she reached the barn, Alex slid out of the saddle
and led the stallion inside.  Bold was still slightly warm and couldn’t be put in his stall, just yet.  If he drank water while still this temperature, it could be dangerous.  Horses were very susceptible to colic when overheated, and this particular early summer eve was overly muggy. 

A frown marred her face, pulling on the corners of her mouth so that her lips tilted sourly downward.  She wanted to walk her animal a bit, and baby him with a bath and
a grooming, but now she had an annoying visitor to get rid of first.  Ridgeway was not someone she wanted to deal with today of all days, and she was going to let him know it, too. 
Shit.

She haltered Bold quickly and pla
ced him in the barn aisle cross-ties to wait for her return.  A corner fan worked with a smooth hum, sending cooling air through the barn and over the stallion’s coat.  She determined that he would be fine, resting quietly for a few minutes until she returned.

Ridgeway was not on
her back porch chair, and she felt her hackles rise as she thrust open the kitchen door and stepped inside, her growing anger bolstering her along.  Her breathing elevated even further when she found him sitting, demurely with long legs crossed, on her couch. 

“How the hell did you get in here, Brian?” she growled
at his nonchalance, planting her feet and putting her hands on her hips.

He smiled blandly at her.  “It was unlocked, and really hot outside,” he returned.  “I was sure you wouldn’t mind me waiting
in here.  Country hospitality and all.”

“
I was certain that door was locked,” she ground out.  “And I sure as hell do mind.”  In that moment, she wished that she was armed.  She had nothing, just five-foot-five feet of her angry, female body. 

Ridgeway didn’t appear
to be very aggressive, though.  He was completely relaxed, still lounging against her pillows with that stilted, fake smile in place.  Dressed in a formal suit with his briefcase next to him, it made an odd picture.  He had a glass of ice water in his hand.  Her glass, her ice, her water.  The cubes tinkled together.  She ground her teeth.

“Can we get this bit of business… concluded?” she asked, her voice dripping with pointed sarcasm.  “I have things to finish today, and I didn’t schedule time for unexpected visitors.”

“Of course.  I don’t anticipate it will take long,” he returned smoothly, brushing aside her obvious anger.  Ridgeway sat forward and snapped open the briefcase he had sitting at his feet.  “I have the paperwork already to go today.”

“Paperwork,” she echoed, her eyes widening in astonishment at his nerve.  “Brian, I have NOT agreed to sell you anything.  Nor will
I. I’ve decided, and it’s final.”

“You
will
sell,” he smiled up at her.  “You will find plenty of amazing things to do with your payout.  Alexandra, you need to realize that I am really being sooo generous here…”  He scratched his head as if puzzled at her resistance.

“I need this land,” he continued.  “This is a profitable agreement for you –
honestly it’s one hell of a flip for a young woman going into business.  There are plenty of properties around here to house your animals.  It’s a win-win.  It’s quite simple… you WILL sign, Alexandra.  Today.”

She scoffed.  “I hardly think so.”

“I have several good reasons why you will.”

“Really?”

From his briefcase he slid several glossy photographs and spread them across the coffee table.  Alex felt her stomach do a cartwheel before skidding into a pool of nausea.  This couldn’t be happening.

The photographs included her mother getting into a car after shopping, Diana sweeping her back porch, completely unaware
that she was being stalked from somewhere on her private property, Jamie swinging hay bales down from a wagon, Mouse gazing out over the back deck of the Northern Restaurant, his heavy brow beaded with sweat and a slight air of innocent confusion.

R
idgeway looked almost apologetic at her aghast expression.  “I truly hated to do this, Alexandra,” he began almost hesitantly, “but you see, I cannot take no for an answer anymore.  Time has run out.  For me, and for you as well.”

“Are you actually threatening these people? 
My
people?” she asked incredulously, still not quite understanding what it was that he was implying.  But she thought she knew now.  This wasn’t a game anymore.

“Of course I am not threatening, Alexandra.  I am simply providing you with several very
, good reasons why you will take my offer today.  These are people I happen to know you have come to love or care for.  It is in their best interests for you to take this deal.”

Alex wet her lips, not knowing what to say.  Her heart thrummed at a higher pitch in her chest now, and her mind scrambled over what to do.  Where was her cell phone? Where was a weapon? What were her choices?

Ridgeway read the indecision on her face quite well, and actually had the balls to smile.  “No, you don’t really have a choice, Alexandra.”

In a split second, she made her decision.  She wheeled, bolting for the backdoor.  And ran smack dab into the granite of Michael Dalton’s chest.