Her body was magnificent, covered in dark cocoa from head to toe with two of the most perfect breasts he had ever seen in his life. The front of his towel started to move and he dropped his head, muttering under his breath, “Jesus sent you to test me, didn’t He?” He pulled the towel from his body and handed it to her. She stood there looking at him as if she didn’t understand the question.
A knock came at the door and they were being summoned as he expected. Too many thoughts were running through his mind, but the one thought that took over, was the one which changed how Odessa Trodat Blakemore felt about her pretend husband.
“If I am to die today, Mrs. Blakemore, I want to at least know what it felt like to hold you against me, in the early light of morning, in your finest glory.” Well, when asked like that, what is a woman to do? Odessa dropped the towel and opened her arms to him, gathering him close as the emphasis of what he felt, pressed against the juncture between her thighs. The embrace lasted nearly a minute before the pounding got louder. Saxton yelled at the door, “Uno momento, por favor!”
Quickly they slipped back into their dirty clothing, reattached the handcuffs before moving the dresser and opening the door. Doña Delgado stood at the door with keys to the handcuffs and a fresh change of clothing for Odessa. She was given an embroidered skirt in reds and oranges, with a lacy white top accompanied by fresh underwear; she felt like she had hit the trifecta. “Seňor Rentería wishes to see you both in 10 minutes para desayuno.” Saxton nodded while Odessa unlocked the cuffs and stripped down to change into the clean clothing.
“What do you think Hubby?” She asked as she twirled in the skirt.
“You look like a really cute victim,” he said, “Let’s go eat and try finding a way to get the hell out of here alive.”
Chapter 6- Dancing With the Hornet
Breakfast was lively, full of hustle and bustle. Whorehouse madams were sipping Mimosas to wash down the huevos rancheros. Prostitutes were picking up their daily quota assignments, drug runners were loading the insides of dashboards and door panels with pounds of illegal narcotics, and Mrs. Blakemore sat at the table having a cup of coffee with chorizo and eggs. Saxton was completely captivated with how stoic and calm she remained in the midst of all the chaos. He found himself smiling.
Rentería entered the room and all the buzz and activity stopped until he was seated, prepared a plate, and given his morning coffee. Saxton noticed that Odessa stopped eating, lowered her head and waited for him to commence his breakfast before she continued with hers. Mrs. Blakemore was a very shrewd and observant woman, however, and even in a lowered tone as she bid him good morning, she did not make eye contact with him.
“After breakfast, Seňora Blakemore, I would like to take you on a tour of the estate and my operation.”
Before she answered, she looked to Saxton, who nodded his head in approval, “I would be honored. I was completely drawn into the garden and landscaping and look forward to seeing more.” This answer seemed to please the Boss, who smiled at her enthusiastically. She was getting very good at pretending to be Mrs. Blakemore. Odessa’s peripheral vision was concentrated on Delgado while Saxton kept an eye on Mateo, who was watching the newlyweds and snarling while he shoveled eggs and beans into his mouth.
In front of the villa, an assistant had brought around a street-legal golf cart, equipped with all the accoutrements, including radio and built-in cell phone. Rentería helped her into the cart. As she adjusted her skirt, she thanked him for the outfit and took a deep breath. Her words would need to be chosen carefully as they began a dance that would determine not only her fate, but Saxton’s as well. She had to be very convincing as his wife, and careful in all of her answers. As they rolled away, she prayed silently, asking only for wisdom.
The grounds were magnificent, well-maintained, and he showed her each acre, outbuilding, and marijuana greenhouse on the estate. Odessa peered through a window as top-bare women in skimpy skirts wore breathing apparatuses as they cut kilos of cocaine. A closer look inside the greenhouse revealed hybrids of plants that were being created to intensify the end user’s high, speeding up their addiction and need for more product. Odessa managed to keep a blank face even when she was shown the Venom House of poisonous snakes, which she politely declined to enter. “Venom, is a wonderful weapon, Seňora. It can be placed on the tips of bullets making the slightest wound ten times more deadly.”
Not quite sure of what to make of the statement or how to respond, she nodded her head and waited for his question; the question which would begin the negotiations for her freedom. “Seňora, as an actuary, what is it you actually calculate?”
With calmness, Odessa explained that her job entailed calculating risk, finding obstacles and creating workable what if scenarios for the unknown variable. Rentería looked at her blankly, “If a circumstance were a math problem, Seňor, it would be my job to solve for X; the X would represent the unknown variable which could change everything.” She held her breath, knowing the next question, because as Mateo and his men had herder her, she was now herding him. Irony was in full play, because it did not matter how many poisonous snakes he kept in a room, nothing was more dangerous and venomous than a woman fighting for her freedom.
“And what would you consider to be the unknown variable in my operation, Seňora Blakemore?”
Rentería had parked atop a hill so they could look down over the land. She noticed high spots around the valley which held observation towers and large men with high powered weapons. By all accounts he had prepared for every scenario and most eventualities, but the human factor was always X, and that X, is where she licked, picked, and marked her spot.
As if she were in the boardroom at InState Insurance headquarters, presenting findings to a CEO, she did the same with him. Watching his face as each word she uttered registered with the drug lord. She started simply, stating the obvious.
Odessa explained that he was a visionary who had plans for his company and his organization attempting to sustain longevity and create a demand for his product. However, his team was comprised of short sighted individuals who saw what he did as a means to an end. If it ended sooner than later, there would be no loss on their parts. She praised his initiative for providing the men entertainment and access to willing women for a fee, which kept them on site and increased their job satisfaction. Odessa commended him on the onsite cantina which made the men feel as if this was their own little town, and in their dominion, they could actually relax and enjoy where they lived. Rentería was smiling at her praise until she stated the first ‘but’.
She started by telling him that Delgado wanted what he had and when the opportunity presented itself, he would make his move. She continued by telling him that Mateo was not a man of vision, but enjoyed his role in acquisitions, torturing and collecting merchandise. Rentería’s eyes became wide when she told him his empire was about to crumble.
“Delgado is ready to make a move. He will start by separating me from everyone giving Mateo easy access. Your cousin will proceed to defile me, probably disfigure me and then dump me at my husband’s feet. This will severely change my value to you, send my husband into a rage, which will make him do something ridiculously stupid, forcing you to kill him. Mateo gets even with Saxton, Delgado removes me as a potential new right hand to you, and you become distracted.” She finally turns and face him, “This is probably when Delgado will attempt to kill you.”
It was said with such a matter-of-fact tone that Rentería was rendered speechless. “I am not supposed to be here. My presence is a fluke and a matter of bad timing for you and me both, so to answer your question, Seňor, your unknown variable, is me. You are now required to recalculate for X.”
The ride back to the house was made in an eerie silence. On occasion, Rentería would glance over at her and she kept her focus trained on the path they plodded in the little cart, which made her feel extremely vulnerable. At least two miles from the main house, a second buggy was spotted com
ing up on them fast. Rentería pulled up his pants leg and removed a small clip loaded hand gun, and placed it between them on the seat. It was Delgado.
The lieutenant seemed rather anxious as he pulled alongside their cart, gave a salute to Rentería, “You are needed back at the Venom House, El Jefe.” He still wore the dark glasses, which obscured his eyes. “If you would like, I can take the Seňora back to the main house.”
Odessa remained facing forward, never looking at either gentleman, but she could feel Rentería’s eyes upon her. “I will be there shortly, Delgado.”
“And the Seňora, Jefe?” Delgado was still insistent.
Rentería picked up the gun which lay at his side, and checked the bullets in the clip, sliding back the rack and seating one in the chamber, “La señora dejo la casa conmigo, y a la casa se la entregare, y en manos de su esposo.” He pointed at the road indicating that Delgado should take the lead, as they made their way back to the house. Odessa gave the very pissed off leader an I told you so look. Rentería looked at her, only adding, “You left with me, you return with me,” as he put the golf cart in gear and followed Delgado back to the main house.
Chapter 7- Well, Somebody Has to Die
Saxton paced the veranda looking over every hill and dale, awaiting his boss to return with his wife. His wife. He said it aloud again, “my wife.” He had a shipment to take in the morning, and he would make certain she was at his side as he rolled out. She should have told Rentería she was a librarian or something; but he understood that she had to show her value as more than just being his newly commissioned wife. It deeply troubled Saxton that Rentería wasn’t much of a negotiator; what he wanted, he took. If he wanted to keep Mrs. Blakemore, there would be little to stop him from killing Saxton to keep her.
Saxton had earned the leader’s trust when he accidently stumbled into one of Mateo’s bad deals. Mateo had been placed in charge of getting a shipment to the Juaristas. Hot-headed, ill-informed and out of patience, the leader of the gang was about to end Mateo’s life and Saxton intervened. Maybe if he had not, they would not be in this predicament. Then again, if fate was unkind, it would have been someone else he did not have a rapport with who would have taken Odessa anyway. It was fortunate for them both, that Mateo disliked him enough to want to punish him, versus making Odessa the evening’s entertainment.
That is what Mateo truly liked—to be entertained. He was like a kid with a magnifying glass on a hot day. If there were ants, bugs, or anything weaker than himself, he would torture it. Saxton imagined him as a small boy killing pets and setting their little bodies on fire. Now, in a larger arena, specializing in skin, those women who were not as attractive he used for his personal vindictive pleasure, while the women who were more pleasing to the eye worked in the higher-end establishments. Those who were overly-used, abused, or strung out, were sent to Tijuana or Chihuahua, to service whatever was hanging about the border towns performing in donkey shows or worse.
Over the hill, a cloud of dust could be seen. Saxton grabbed his binoculars and scanned the horizon. There! In the distance he saw the lead dune buggy and knew immediately it was Delgado, followed closely behind by Rentería and the ever-so-cool Mrs. Blakemore. She was riding shotgun as if they had just returned from spa day in Ojai. He quickly gathered his things and took the stairs by two as he stood upon the front porch awaiting their arrival. They had been gone nearly three hours. Minutes later, as the vehicles arrived under the portico, there was no mistaking the look of happiness on Saxton’s face to see Odessa; he was sincerely pleased. She had not been harmed and did not appear to be upset. The grin that adorned his face was genuine, as well as hers, and she found herself bounding from the golf cart and running into his arms. He welcomed her with small kisses upon her face and she returned the embrace with her eyes closed as she held him tightly.
Rentería cleared his throat, and the happy couple separated, begging his apology. “Come, we lunch, then it is time for a siesta!” They followed the big man into the house to take a noon day meal. The conversation remained light as Rentería bounced ideas off of Odessa, who remained honest as she provided an assessment. After one of his questions, she requested pen and paper to do the calculations before providing him an answer, which seemed to infuriate Delgado, whom, for the first time removed his glasses to review her solution. His gaze was uncomfortable for all at the table. The scientist, who at dinner last night said very little, drew Delgado’s attention away from Odessa, who used that moment to excuse herself, dragging Saxton with her. Many felt the newlywed couple were eager to be alone again, and no one bothered them as they made a hasty retreat towards Saxton’s quarters. Before they prepared to enter his rooms for the siesta, he stopped by the kitchen to grab a bucket of ice and four cold Tecates.
“I’m not much of a napper, so I thought it would be nice to maybe sit and chat a bit. You know, get to know each other more,” Saxton told her as he opened a beer and handed one to her, before uncapping one for himself. He opened the French doors and stepped out onto a balcony which overlook a very verdant courtyard. There were two chairs with a small table in between the two seats. He extended his hand for her to be seated first.
Odessa opened the conversation, “So tell me, why does Mateo hates you so much.” Saxton took a sip of the beer and told her of Tanya, a pretty little blond with a low tolerance for alcohol and a lower IQ. She had been one of Mateo’s collectables he picked up in Cabo San Lucas during Spring break. Drunk, incoherent, and disoriented, she wandered into an alley to puke up her guts only to be snatched up by Mateo. “I had only been on the team for a few months, but she spotted me and hoped I would be her savior.”
Saxton said he managed to keep her out of Mateo’s grasp for about a week, but her gratitude led to something more and it clouded his judgment. “Honestly, I was happy to come to my room at night and spend the evening with a woman who spoke English.” His face darkened as he spoke of the next part.
“I promised I would get her home,” but he was unable to keep his word. “I was sent on a run, which should have only taken a day or so, instead, I was gone a week.” Saxton returned to find Tanya a caricature of the woman he had left behind. Mateo had tortured, beaten, and had her addicted to heroin, in less than a week. “It was the look of disgust I gave her that I think sent her over the edge.” Saxton gulped some more beer before he told her Tanya had tied a rope around her neck and threw herself over the balcony. He used his boot to tap the spot on the wood that had a groove in it.
“I have never forgiven myself for judging what she had to do to stay alive until I returned, nor have I excused myself for leaving her,” he said as he ran his fingers through his hair.
Odessa told him, “When we return, maybe we can find her parents and give them some closure.” She extended her arm, placing her hand in reach of his. Saxton slipped her hand into his and intertwined their fingers. Odessa gave his fingers a light squeeze, and he found himself smiling unwillingly, again. What was it about this woman that warmed him?
“You are quite the woman, Odessa from Dallas,” he said as he licked his bottom lip. “I know this may sound crazy, but are you seeing anyone?”
She smiled back at him, “Sorry, Saxton, but I’m married.” She held up her left hand to show her wedding band.
“I sure hope he appreciates you.”
“Nope, he treats me as if we were handcuffed to each other and forced into a loveless, sexless marriage,” she said as she sipped her beer. Saxton let out a belly gut laugh. She had to continue her jab at him, “I am starting to believe he doesn’t know what to do with all of this sexy.”
“Not true, Mrs. Blakemore,” he said as he sat down the beer, “I am certain that husband of yours has been thinking about all sorts of things to do with that sexiness, since you first climbed into his arms at that cantina.”
The smile faded from her face, ‘Saxton,” she whispered, “why did you decide to help me?”
He stared out over the courtyard and for th
e first time since Tanya’s death, he was honest about what he was feeling, “I was eager for redemption.” It was not going to be easy, but this promise to Odessa he was going to keep, and if that meant this time around, things went down differently, so be it.
Odessa noticed the look of contemplation on his face, “Saxton, since you have spent some time with me, may I ask what you are now feeling?”
Saxton’s dark eyes bore into hers, “I am feeling hopeful.” Something about Odessa made him be forthcoming, honest, and truthful. He told her, “I want to keep you.”
Her eyebrows went up. What was with these men wanting to keep women as if they were some sort of prized livestock? Keeping her wasn’t sexy. Wrong word choice, man, wrong word choice, she thought as she removed her fingers from his. He quickly grabbed her hand again, “I am hoping, that when all of this is over, that I can keep you as my wife.” She relaxed a bit. “When I look at you, I see possibilities for a future that does not include leaving for work in the morning and praying that I come home at night. I look at you and crave a house in the suburbs with kids and a dog, and weekend fishing trips and memberships to the Royal Order of the Moose, or some shit like that. When I hold you in my arms Mrs. Blakemore, I want to keep you there, I want to keep you safe. You, my beautiful woman, are a reminder that there is still good in the world.”
Odessa stared at him blankly, thinking that was the most beautiful thing anyone, had ever said to her. Then, he ruined it, “In order to get you home, at the end of the day, well, somebody has to die.”
Chapter 8- Poking the Hornet’s Nest
Saxton awoke from his siesta to find Odessa asleep atop him, again. What was wrong with her? He was starting to think she was naturally prone to trouble and using the largest stick she could find to poke the wasp nest. The large hornet in it was very horny and getting grumpy. He had to get her home. This constant temptation was becoming more than he could bear; if the last time he had been with a woman was factored in, this only exacerbated his current uncomfortable situation.
Being Mrs. Blakemore Page 3
