Relentless: Episode 3 of the Shattered Chronicles Read online

  He started the car and pulled out of the parking space. "What I don't understand," he said, looking over at Samuels. "Is how a man like Cord Alexander, who's got it all; a good-looking wife, a successful business, nice home, and two good kids could just throw it all away for money."

  Samuels nodded then spoke up. "Don't forget about the other woman," he reminded.

  "Yeah, well, go figure," Smith said, stopping at the intersection of the parking lot and the main road. "I still don't understand how all that came about. To tell you the truth I can't see why he would give up what he had for her or the money."

  "Hey, Andy," Samuels laughed bitterly. "Haven't you figured it out yet? Everybody in this whole world is crazy but you and me. And I'm not so sure about you."

  They both laughed at the old joke as Smith turned onto the highway and headed for the field office.

  Jamaica

  Sitting in the elegant restaurant later that evening, Morgan watched as Victor poured the champagne. "I didn't know you had a penthouse here," she commented. It'd surprised her when she heard Victor tell the woman at the boutique to send the dresses to his penthouse. And she had been even more surprised when he took her there.

  "It's convenient," he passed it off casually. "Sometimes I don't feel like staying at the house. It's also the only hotel on the island equipped with a landing pad on the roof for my helicopter."

  Morgan took the glass he handed her. "Just how wealthy are you, anyway?" she asked out of curiosity.

  "Enough to fulfill your every desire."

  She smiled and sipped the champagne. She should have known he wouldn't answer, and it really didn't matter.

  After dinner they went into the nightclub which was packed. But as soon as they entered, the manager spotted them and rushed over to show them to a table reserved for Victor.

  "Does everybody always fall all over themselves whenever you walk into a place?" Morgan asked after they were seated. "Everybody treats you like you're the President or something!"

  "Speaking of the President," Victor moved over closer to her, "I'm hosting a reception in Washington at the end of the month. Would you come with me?"

  Morgan was a little confused. "Okay. But what does that have to do with the President?" Realization dawned before the words were out of her mouth. "The President will be there. Seriously? You know him?"

  "Yes," he smiled, "we're acquainted. He and all of his cabinet will be there and various other government officials."

  Morgan just sat and looked at him in amazement. He was constantly surprising her. Just who is he, really? she wondered. There seemed to be an awful lot she didn't know about Victor.

  The waiter interrupted as he approached their table with a chilled magnum of champagne. Morgan looked over at Victor, "Are you trying to get me drunk?"

  "Of course, I am," he laughed as he poured. "Then I can have my way with you."

  "Dream on," she said, taking the glass he offered. "I'll just be passed out and you'll have to lambada all by yourself."

  He laughed and touched the rim of his glass to hers, listening to the music. The band was very good and performed a wide variety of music. Time seemed to slip away as they danced and talked and laughed.

  As they walked back to their table from the dance floor, Victor picked up the empty bottle. "Shall I order another?"

  "Not for me," she shook her head. "I'm spinning now. Doesn't this stuff affect you at all?"

  "Not really," he shrugged. "I have something for you," he said as he reached into the pocket of his jacket draped on his chair.

  "What's this?" she asked as he handed her an envelope. He didn't answer, so she opened it and withdrew a folded document.

  Within moments of reading, surprise took her breath, then quickly morphed into anger. "What the hell is this? I'm not divorced. I didn’t file for a divorce."

  "Lower your voice," he growled and looked around. Then he smiled and softened his tone. "I had it taken care of for you. I thought it would make you happy."

  "Happy?" she stood and shouted, heedless of the curious eyes that watched from the other tables. " How dare you!" Morgan threw the papers in his face, stormed out of the lounge in a rage and headed for the elevator.

  Victor caught up with her as she was stabbing at the elevator call button. With his face set in a mask of anger he grabbed her arm and hauled her into the car that had just arrived.

  "Let go of me!" she spit at him and jerked her arm free. "I hate you!"

  Victor glared at her as he inserted the key that would allow the elevator to rise to the penthouse. "Enough!"

  "Enough is right. How dare you do that? Who the hell do you think you are?"

  Victor's face looked like a thundercloud and his eyes flashed dangerously. "Watch what you say," he warned as the door opened.

  "Or what?" she shot past him into the penthouse.

  "Don't push me, Morgan," he walked up behind her with fists clenched. Rage threatened. If he didn't stop it, if she didn't stop, soon it would take control.

  "Don't push you?" she turned to him, "That's a laugh. You're the one who's pushing." She paced over to the window. "Did it ever for one moment occur to you that if I wanted a divorce, I'd do it myself? Just what makes you think you have the right to make that decision for me?"

  "You're going too far." His feet propelled him across the room to her, with the heat of fury coursing through his body. "I warn you, I won't tolerate this kind of behavior."

  "Tough shit!" she said and shoved him out of her way. "I don't answer to you for my behavior or anything else. You're the one who's way out of line. You don't own me, Victor."

  He moved in behind her. "Get away from me," she warned. But he kept coming.

  The combination of complete fury and too much champagne had her unbalanced and out of control. As he drew near, she grabbed the closest object she could find, which happened to be a crystal lamp, and threw it at him as hard as she could.

  He deflected the lamp with his arm and the impact sent shards of glass flying everywhere. Morgan saw the look in his eyes and decided it was time to retreat. Turning, she ran for the bedroom.

  He caught up as she was trying to shut the door, rammed into from the other side and sent her stumbling backwards. "That's it!" he yelled as he stepped into the room.

  Morgan snatched off her high heels and threw them at him, one at a time. The first one caught him on the forehead, cutting him. The second he knocked away. "Leave me alone!" she screamed, then made the mistake of turning her back on him as she looked for an avenue of escape.

  Before she knew it, he'd grabbed her arm and spun her back around to face him. As soon as she stopped, he backhanded her across the face, sending her stumbling backwards a few steps.

  Morgan struggled to gain her balance, dizzy from the first blow and he struck again, this time sending her crashing to the floor. Dazed by the blow to her head she attempted to stand, suddenly very afraid of him. "Get away from me!" she screamed as he reached for her.

  She twisted in an attempt to evade his grasp, but he was too fast. In a grip like a vice he took her wrist and wrenched it up behind her painfully. "Time for a lesson," he said in a voice that sounded nothing like his own.

  He shoved her toward the bed and as he did, she kicked out behind her in desperation. The kick caught him in the thigh hard enough to temporarily loosen his hold on her. Turning, she stood with her legs against the bed and Victor in front of her.

  There was nowhere to run. "Back off!" she yelled, sounding much braver than she actually felt.

  He gave her a cold smile and unloosened his tie. Holding it in his right hand, he closed in on her. Her heart pounded as she tensed, ready to fight yet deathly afraid.

  He struck out quickly, but she blocked the blow with her arm and deflected it up. But the first strike had been only a ruse to get her attention. He grabbed her free arm and swiftly knotted the tie around it. She reached over with her free hand, trying to get it off. Their hands tangled as they battled for
control.

  Victor won. Capturing her hands, he lashed them together tightly with the tie then shoved her hard, sending her flying backwards onto the bed.

  She made a move to roll to one side, but he leaped on her, knocking the breath out of her as his weight came down. With her pinned beneath him gasping for air he pulled her arms up over her head and fastened her bound wrists to the brass headboard.

  She screamed and bucked like a wild animal, frantic to get free. She was truly scared now, more than she'd ever been. The helplessness of being tied down filled her with terror. Suddenly all the horror stories she had ever read or heard flooded her mind and made her think of mutilation and murder.

  He pushed himself up off of her, dodging the kicks she threw at him. With an evil grin he discarded his clothes and removed the leather belt from his slacks. He held the belt in his right hand, slapping the leather against the palm of his left. "Time to take your punishment," he said, looking down at her. "Turn over."

  "Fuck you!" she shouted, kicking out at him frantically.

  "Not just yet," he laughed then tossed the belt onto the bed and reached out for her leg.

  She went crazy, fighting with everything she had to stay away from him and out of his grasp. The bindings on her wrists burned as she thrashed around, and the fear escalated within her until she felt like she would lose her mind.

  Victor finally grabbed one of her ankles. She pulled with all her strength trying to get free, kicking at him with her free leg. But her strength was no match for his. Twisting her leg painfully at the knee joint he forced her to roll over onto her stomach.

  He straddled her legs with his weight pressing down on her calves. She screamed in pain, feeling like her bones were about to snap. He threw her dress up over her back, grabbed the top of her panty hose and ripped them down the middle. She squirmed frantically, her hair flying into her face, almost smothering her.

  Another scream tore loose as she felt him press down hard with his knuckles into the sensitive pressure points on the backs of her legs in the middle of the knee joints. The scream was of both pain and panic. She knew the attack would temporarily disable her legs.

  A moment later she felt the paralysis set in. Victor rose and jerked the hosiery down to her ankles. Working fast, he tied her ankles, one to each of the brass posts at the foot of the bed. Once finished he stepped back and grinned as he inspected his handiwork.

  Morgan felt like she was in the middle of a horror movie. This can't be happening! Please don't let this be real!

  Twisting her head back and forth, she finally got enough of the hair slung back from her face that she could see. Victor stood at the bottom corner of the bed watching her. His eyes sparkled like blue fire from a burning torch.

  "Victor," she tried to speak calmly, but the words came out breathy and frightened. "Please, let me go. We can work this out. We just need to talk it over. Please, just untie me."

  But the fear in her voice, combined with the sight of her helpless on the bed and the fire that burned in his mind kept him from hearing her words. He walked to the head of the bed, grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her head back at a sharp angle. "Not so cocky now, are we?"

  "You prick!" she screamed and tugged at her bindings. "Let me go!"

  He grinned, let go of her hair, grabbed the back of her dress and ripped it apart. Her fear grew even more than she thought possible when he picked up the belt from the bed and wrapped the buckled end around his hand.

  "No!" she screamed, "please, Victor. Don't!"

  "No one humiliates me in public like you did," he said slapping the belt against his hand. "I will not tolerate your ungrateful attitude and shameful behavior. Let this serve as a reminder."

  When he raised his arm, she held her breath and closed her eyes.

  Chapter Seven

  Cotton Creek Texas

  Morgan stopped just inside the doorway and looked around the house. It felt like her life here had been another lifetime ago; like she had been another Morgan. Most of the time she stayed with Victor, not wanting to be alone with all the memories. But today she had to come home to pack for her trip.

  What a week! She walked into the den and flopped down on the sofa. Between dealing with the FBI and the CIA she wanted to just disappear and not have to deal with this nuclear waste mess ever again.

  Now Stork claimed Cord had been setting up this supposed operation ever since he first began work on the project. His theory was based on testimony and evidence supplied by Tom McGuire and Juan and there was quite a case built up against him.

  Morgan couldn't understand why the suspicions had suddenly switched from Juan to Cord and why Juan had turned so completely against Cord. She’d tried to talk to him about it, but Juan had treated her as if she were a complete stranger. He’d been distant and cold to her and now he wouldn’t even take her calls.

  She stared up at the ceiling and sighed. When this fiasco started, she’d supported Cord to the bitter end. Now, if she were honest with herself, she'd have to admit that she had doubts about his innocence.

  If only he would have gotten in touch with someone, and not just vanish. She sat and hugged her knees to her chest. At least he could have said goodbye to Trevor and Cable.

  Poor Trevor. Her thoughts turned to her son. Cable seemed to have come to terms with what had happened even though she fluctuated between wanting to believe in her father's innocence and then believing the evidence against him. But Trevor remained steadfast, insisting Cord had done nothing wrong. So far, he wouldn’t even admit to his father's affair.

  Pushing back the thoughts, she rose and went upstairs to pack for her trip to Washington with Victor. She was a lot more nervous than she'd let him know and she still had no idea why he was hosting a reception. He had been very enigmatic about it.

  She quickly packed and looked around to make sure she had forgotten nothing. The case containing the necklace Victor gave her sat on her vanity table. Knowing he'd want her to wear it she placed it in her suitcase.

  Morgan hadn't worn it since returning from Jamaica. She thought back to the night Victor had presented her with the divorce papers. Even now, thinking about that night was like reliving a nightmare. She still had trouble believing what had happened. The anger and fear and the humiliation. She didn't know if she would ever understand why she’d given in to him.

  It's like he has some weird spell on me. One minute I want to kill him and the next I want him so much I'd do about anything. She blushed as she remembered that night. Never had she imagined anyone could have such a hold on her. Or she would tolerate being treated the way he’d treated her.

  How in the name of all that was sane could she want a man with such ferocity that would make her scream in pain and beg to be taken? What made his touch something she craved with such intensity that she'd tolerate such behavior?

  With a shiver, she pushed back the memory, hoping that they never had to repeat anything like that again. You'd think I'd have gotten as far away from him as I could, after that. What is it with him, anyway? How does he get to me?

  Deep inside there was a small voice telling her she needed to step back, to get away from him and spend time alone. Nothing that had happened since the day Cord left to go to Washington was logical. It felt… orchestrated, for lack of a better word.

  Maybe that was wishful thinking, or maybe her mind was picking at the threads and trying to tell her there was a way to make sense and understand it, but not so long as she was being influenced.

  And Victor definitely was an influence. Why then, was she not getting as far away from him as possible?

  You will. When the time is right, and you understand all you need to know.

  Where the hell did that come from? She now had an inner voice that sounded like Joe?

  She closed the suitcase and walked into the bathroom to pack her toiletries. If she were completely honest, she'd acknowledge that he hadn't scarred her or left a mark on her. The pain he'd caused had quickly mor
phed from an act of anger to one of carnal hunger.

  Morgan realized he was a true dominant and she simply had no experience with that type of lover. How strange it was to find herself hating it and yet also hungering to be dominated.

  She was learning a lot about herself. Her life with Cord would forever be a time she looked on as a dream come true. He'd owned her heart and she would have done anything for him. He was the most honorable man she'd ever known and she'd love him until her last breath, despite the pain he'd caused her.

  What she felt for Victor was not even in the same ball park. Cord, she loved. Victor, she craved. It'd taken her some time to be able to admit that but now that she had, she was able to allow her emotions free reign. She could say she loved him with honesty, and knew he loved her despite all.

  He'd pledged his love and vowed to never harm her. She didn't disbelieve his intent to stick to that vow, she just worried that one day his rage could override his promise and she'd either have to leave him, or kill him.

  Washington, D.C.

  "So?" Smith asked as the waitress left with their order.

  "What do you make of this Juan Ramirez?" Stork inquired.

  Smith leaned back with a scowl on his face. "To tell you the truth, there's something that just doesn't sit right about that guy."

  "In what way?" Stork asked.

  "I'm not sure," Smith leaned forward and put his elbows on the table. "I can't put my finger on it but something's off."

  "You did know he’d been missing for quite a while?" Stork spoke low. "According to Mrs. Alexander, Ramirez just disappeared without a word to anyone a couple of days before this waste thing hit and no one could locate him. Then he showed up out of the blue the very day you and the sewer rat went to talk to him at Alexander Enterprises."

  Smith rubbed the stubble on his chin. "You got this information from the Alexander woman," he commented as he looked doubtingly at Stork. "And you believe her?"

  Stork nodded and tapped the table with his index finger as he spoke to punctuate his words. "Andy, I've been doing this a long time and I can usually tell when I'm being fed a load of crap. I've talked to her a lot and I'd stake my reputation she's telling the truth. Besides, she was honest with me about her husband's affair."