by Ciana Stone
An excerpt from
Ruthless
Shattered series, Book 2
Releasing in March 2019
Chapter One
Samuels came to slowly. He opened his eyes and raised one hand to shield his face, squinting into the glaring sunlight. He came out of the daze much quicker when he noticed he couldn't see out of his left eye. He couldn't even open it. Gingerly, he touched his left eyelid and immediately let out a whine. “Jesus, what happened?”
Humiliation as intense as the pain in his eye swept over him as he remembered the confrontation with Morgan. He could remember everything up until the point she screamed and called him a bastard. That's when everything went black.
I'll be damned. She hit me! Amazement that a woman so small could pack such a wallop competed with acute embarrassment. She must've used a bat. Surely, she didn't drop him with her fist. At least he hoped not. He'd never hear the end of it if anyone found out.
Pushing himself up from the ground, he groaned in pain. He felt like he’d been hit in the head with a shovel. His head throbbed with every movement, and his eye felt like it was about to explode.
Samuels stumbled over to his car, climbed in and turned the rear-view mirror to look at himself. “Christ!” His eye was swollen completely shut. An ugly purple bruise was forming, starting at his eyebrow and running halfway down his face.
“Damn!” He started the engine and headed down the long drive. Just before he reached the open gate at the entrance of the ranch, it occurred to him to check the time. The clock on the car dash read 9:30. Good God, I've been out for over two hours!
When he reached the surveillance van, he wasted no time. He had to check the log and report in. He was already late for his morning report. It took only seconds to pull out his cell phone. Just as the operator came on the line, he hit the end button and looked at himself again in the visor mirror.
How am I going to explain losing her without letting anyone find out about this? The big ear had been trained on the house during the whole incident. He quickly queued the file, clamped the earphones down on his head and listened to the exchange between him and Morgan. It took less than two seconds for him to come to a firm decision. She had definitely hit him with a tire iron.
He hit redial on his phone, and as he waited for the operator to answer, he began to go over his story in his mind.
*****
Cassie stopped at the towering iron gate that guarded the entrance of Victor's estate. Located on the outskirts of the city, it was immense. The house towered up three stories, looking bigger due to the ten–foot ceilings throughout the house. Finished in white stucco, it resembled a Spanish palace. Sitting a half mile from the road, its fifty thousand square feet was situated on one hundred acres of rolling meadows and sculptured gardens.
Victor had spotted the house several years ago, right after Cassie had begun working for him. Right about the time I took that trip to Rome, she remembered. At the time, the house was occupied. However, Victor liked the estate and whatever Victor wanted Victor got. The owners were reluctant to sell, but Victor soon made them see the folly of saying no. Within a couple of months, the family's fortune took a drastic plunge downward. Facing imminent bankruptcy, they had no choice but to sell to Victor.
Cassie rolled down the window and punched the button at the bottom of a speaker set in a stone pillar.
“Yes?” A male voice came through the speaker.
“It's me.” She replied and waited for the gate to swing open.
“He's by the pool.” The voice directed as the gate parted to admit her. She parked near the large garage and slowly climbed out, feeling soreness in every muscle of her body. A grunt accompanied her motion as she tossed the keys to the young man wearing a white turban who stared at her with eyes round as saucers.
“What the fuck are you looking at Towel-head?” She glared at him then marched toward the rear of the mansion.
Cassie let herself in through a door in the tall brick wall surrounding the patio and pool. She saw Victor lying in a lounge chair on the opposite side of the pool, in the shade of sizeable wisteria-draped arbor. Clad in a white silk shirt that was completely unbuttoned and white swim trunks, he appeared to be sleeping.
Stiffly, she walked around the pool and stopped at the foot of his lounge chair. Victor opened his eyes, took one look at her disheveled appearance, and burst out in a loud chortle.
“New look?” He asked between bellows of laughter.
“Very funny!” She gingerly lowered herself into a chair nearby. “You shitass. You didn't tell me that Alexander bitch was a fucking maniac!”
That sent him into another spasm of hilarity. Victor held his stomach, shaking with laughter. Cassie fumed more with each loud burst. Finally, he wiped his eyes, still grinning widely.
“Maniac you say? Well, why don't you tell me about this deranged woman?”
She glared at him. Cassie despised being made fun of in any shape, form, or fashion.
“Poor Cassandra, you’ve had a traumatic morning, haven't you? Here, let me fix you a drink.”
Victor rose and went to a well-stocked bar built along the back wall of the house beneath a large overhang. He poured a glass tumbler half full with vodka. Checking to see that Cassie could not see him from where she sat, he reached into the pocket of the silk shirt he wore and took out a small vial. After emptying the clear contents into the vodka, he added a couple of ice cubes and then topped it off with more vodka.
He returned and watched fixedly as she drained the glass and set it down with a bang on the small table beside her. It was clear she was furious with him for laughing at her as she tersely related the events of the morning.
“This morning I went to check on the signal booster. We’ve been having issues with interference, and no one can figure out why so we installed several boosters on the property, sort of a relay. Anyway, the last time I was there that damn beast of theirs was out; so this time I went prepared for him. I had just reached the box, and suddenly out of nowhere, that goddamn dog came charging at me. I just barely had time to get one shot off and hit the bastard in the chest. It happened so fast I really didn't even have time to take aim.”
She paused, picked up her glass to suck on an ice cube then continued with a boast. “All that time on the target range paid off. Anyway, the dog collapsed virtually at my feet – that's how close he got. I had no more looked down at him when I was attacked from behind.
“I felt this terrible pain across the top of my back. It almost knocked me down. Fortunately, my good sense of balance and training kept me on my feet. I turned and saw that Alexander bitch standing with this big tree limb raised up in her hands like a baseball bat. As soon as I saw her, I rammed the butt of my rifle into her stomach. She went down like a ton of bricks, gasping and heaving for air like a fish out of water.
“Well, I didn't think I should hang around because I knew if I did I would have to seriously hurt her; and I knew you didn't want that, so I headed back for the car. I had almost made it to the stream, actually the bank that led down to it, when there she came again. Like a crazy woman. Running up with her arms waving all around, screaming like a banshee.
“I had no choice but to stop her. So, I stood and waited. She ran up and threw herself at me like she was going to tackle me. I took her down, hard. But she was too stupid to stay down. God, I don't know how many times I knocked her down. She was bleeding, and her eyes were swelling shut; but like I said, she was a nut case. She just kept getting up. Finally, I had enough, and let fly with a solid right to her mouth, a left to the stomach, then a right uppercut. She flew over backward, out cold before she even hit the ground.
“I checked to make sure she was breathing, and then I turned and went to pick up my gun that I'd tossed aside. Of all the bad luck! After going through all that fracas with that lunatic, not a scratch on me, my foot got snagged in a damn vine, and I lost my balance and fell down the bank, landing into the stream. I was pissed
! Anyway, I was climbing out, and I must have slipped in the mud on the side of the water because I fell and hit my head on this log that was lying on the bank. It must have been a hard knock because the next thing I knew, I was waking up. I had been out at least three or four minutes.”
Victor made no comment, he merely kept his gaze leveled on her, knowing that it would make her uncomfortable.
Almost out of breath from the running narrative, Cassie reached for her glass, tipping it back to let the last ice cube slide into her mouth. Pleased with the events as she had relayed them and the light it placed her in, she smiled to herself. Then she noticed Victor watching her intently. To avoid his stare, she pushed herself agonizingly to her feet.
“I need another drink. Can I get you anything?”
“No. Thank you.” Quite a tale, Cassandra. He pictured the story the way Cassie told it. Knowing Cassie as he did and what a total egomaniac she was he had no doubt that she’d elaborated the tale quite a bit to make herself look better.
He looked at her as she fixed a fresh drink and allowed himself a chuckle. While he would give Cassie credit for being a vicious and vindictive woman, she was not, contrary to her inflated opinion of herself, an accomplished fighter.
“She must be a real mess.” He commented as he watched Cassie lower herself cautiously into her chair. “If you are what the winner of the battle looks like.”
“Yeah,” she sniffed, slightly puffing up. “I fucked her up good.”
“And did you manage to deliver the drive as I directed?”
“Oh,” Cassie had not completely finished the tale. “When I got back to the car, she had taken it.”
“Then everything worked out wonderfully after all, didn't it?” Victor chuckled, making note of the blatant lie. An unconscious, half-dead woman made it to the car ahead of you. Miraculous.
“Piss off, Victor!” Cassie barked and immediately apologized. “I'm sorry. It's just that it's been a bitch of a morning, and I just lost it for a minute. How’s the drug coming along?”
“There are some problems.” He found it quite amusing the way she tried to turn his attention to something else, and the fact she was so interested in the progress of the experimental drug, of which she was one of the unaware test subjects. “We seem to be having trouble determining the exact dosage.”
“What kind of problems? It doesn't work, side effects, what?”
“It seems that if the dosage is not gradually built up to a high enough level within the body, the effects are unstable. The subjects show lapses. For varying intervals of time, they seem to overcome the effects of the drug and are no longer controllable.”
“So why not just increase the quantity or frequency of the dosage?”
“Yes, we have thought of that. The problem lies in that the amount of drug the body can withstand has not been accurately determined as yet. Too much and there are, shall we say, unfortunate complications. However, enough of this. No need for you to concern yourself with such matters. I have others things to discuss with you.”
“Like?” She sat up a little straighter.
“Like your trip to Andrews County, of course. You did say that you had been directed by your superiors to keep an eye on Cord Alexander, did you not?”
“Well, yes. But how does that fit into our plans? I thought you wanted him dead?”
“Let me explain.” Victor reclined back and placed his hands together, his fingertips forming a temple with his index fingers grazing his bottom lip. “The orders you received from the Agency fit perfectly with my plans. You will go to Andrews County, following those orders. But instead of keeping an eye on Alexander, you will make sure he experiences a series of—shall we call them, unfortunate events? Not enough to end his life, but enough to cause a good deal of distress—physical and mental.”
Victor paused and looked directly into Cassie’s eyes. “Rub your face,” he said softly.
“Huh?” Cassie absently rubbed her dirty face. Pleased that the drug had taken effect so quickly, Victor continued explaining his plans. “After you take care of Alexander, you will return here immediately and you inform your superiors that Alexander escaped with some terrorist or other before you could get to him. I'm sure you can come up with an appropriate name.”
He stood, stripped off his shirt, and walked toward the pool. Just as he started down the marble steps into the water, he turned back to her. “Any questions?”
“Just one.” She grunted as she pushed herself up and walked over to stand near him. “What about her?”
“Her?” Victor feigned ignorance.
“The Alexander bitch.”
With a grin, Victor lowered himself into the cool, sparkling water. “Leave her to me.”
Chapter Two
Cotton Creek, Texas
As Morgan reached the edge of town she slowed. Maybe she should have gone home to clean up first. Thanks to Joe, she at least had a clean face, but her clothes and hair were still a disaster. She looked at the time on her display. Cord’s probably standing on his head waiting for me to get the computer set up.
A glance in the rear-view mirror drew a grimace then a disgusted exhalation. In the long run, she supposed it didn't make much difference how she looked or what the people at his office thought. Cord was depending on her, and that was what mattered. With her mind made up, she headed for Alexander Enterprises.
During the drive, she thought of what had happened. The thought of losing Ghost tore through her heart. She knew that she’d done her best and that Joe would watch over him. Still, she couldn’t push away the fear any more than she could shake the scene from her mind, of his big body lurching under the impact of the dart and that woman holding the rifle. And the things she had said about Cord
Cord would never betray me like that. He said so and he's never lied to me. That bitch was just playing with my head. She forced her hands to loosen from their white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel as she swung her Jeep into the parking lot in front of the Alexander building. One thing she could be sure of was Cord. But why had that woman said those things? What did she hope to accomplish?
Andrews County, Texas
Cord knew that his work was far from done, but he needed to take a break. His stomach reminded him that he also needed to eat. He was surprised he hadn’t heard from Morgan. He thought she would’ve called when she got Juan's computer set up, but so far, no word.
Maybe she couldn't get through. He justified the situation as he returned to the glass-enclosed office and took a seat at the computer. It took only minutes to load the communications package and punch up the phone number for Juan's computer. After a long pause, a message flashed up on the screen. No Answer.
Cord blew out a tired breath, leaned back in the seat and looked at the last command on the screen. What now? His stomach growled again and made the decision for him. He placed the map back in his messenger bag, latched the clasps, and made his way out of the facility.
On the drive to the hotel Cord looked around at the bleak, dry landscape. Why in the world would anyone want to live here? Accustomed to the abundant plant life and wooded areas of his home, this part of the state looked like a wasteland to him – hot and dry.
Juan sure wouldn't like it here. The thought made him chuckle. He remembered Juan saying how much he hated the desert. His family had spent a few years living in the Middle East when he was a child.
“Goddamn sand everywhere you look!” He declared in a heavily accented voice. “Sand in the yard, sand in the street, sand on the floor of your house, sand in your mouth. Bloody wretched sand everywhere! I hate the goddamn desert!”
Cord grinned at the memory. He and Morgan had laughed until they almost cried as they listened to Juan carry on about the desert. He had to give Juan credit. He took the laughter and kidding good-naturedly. They’d shared a lot of laughs and good times over the years.
Thoughts of good times in the past faded to be replaced with concerns of the present. Cord pulled into t
he hotel parking lot, turned off the car and slumped back against the seat.
I just can't believe that Juan would do something like this. He shook his head as he climbed out of the car, sad that he was beginning to have doubts. But it was all pointed in Juan's direction.
Cord felt like he was losing part of himself. He had trusted Juan, really believed him. He didn't understand what would make Juan do something like this.
Rock Ridge, Texas
Morgan stepped across the threshold into the reception room to be met with astonished expressions. The receptionist stopped in the middle of a phone conversation. Her mouth flew open, and her eyes grew as round as doughnuts. Another woman standing at the reception counter affixing a stamp on an envelope uttered a horrified expression of concern and dashed over to Morgan.
“Oh, my God! Are you all right, Mrs. Alexander?”
Morgan evaded the issue by calmly walking through the reception area as if everything was perfectly normal and she didn't look like she had just been dragged through the mud. “I'm fine, thank you.”
Before anything else could be said, she turned down a corridor and managed to get to the end of the hall without being spotted. A right turn would take her through Juan’s reception area and to his office.
She craned her neck around the corner to make sure no one was milling about. With a sense of relief, she saw that the coast was clear.
Now if I can just get by Emma. She thought as she stepped into the reception area that preceded Juan’s office. Luckily, Emma's desk was vacant. Happy that she wouldn't have to deal with Emma, Morgan sprinted over to the door and turned the knob quickly. Unexpectedly, the door suddenly moved inward, jerked out of her grasp.
Unprepared, her momentum carried her into the room. She collided with the husky frame of Emma, who was on her way out. The impact jarred Emma back. Her high heels snagged on the nubby pile of the carpet, and she wobbled for a split second before she hit the floor with her legs straight out in front of her.
