Eviscerating the Snake - The Complete Trilogy

by Ashley Fontainne

  The front door closed and I hurried and wiped my tears as Steve’s footsteps came up behind me. He slid his arms around my waist, his hands softly caressing my stomach while he kissed my neck.

  “Was that the doctor?” he asked, his words a soft murmur as he buried his face in my hair.

  “As a matter of fact, it was,” I said, clasping my hands around his. “He called with the results.”

  Steve let go and moved around to face me. “So, am I buying pink or blue paint?” he said, his eyes dancing with anticipation.

  “Both,” I said, then watched as the word sunk in. It took him a full ten seconds, his facial expressions changing from confusion to full recognition.

  “Twins? Oh honey, I can’t believe it!” he said, then grabbed me and spun me around, our communal joy the only thing occupying our world at that moment. He put me down and we embraced, each of us instinctively moving our hands over the scars of the other as we always did. A daily reminder of what we almost lost was felt by each of us on the dimpled skin, both inflicted upon us by the same hands.

  “Come on, girl, let’s hit the road. I can’t wait to tell your mom she is going to be a grandmother…of twins. Her expression will be priceless, so I hope you brought the camera.”

  “You think I’m going to miss that photo op? No way,” I said, then kissed him on the cheek. “Come on, Daddy, we need to get Rosemary and hit the road or we will hit rush hour traffic in Phoenix.”

  “That reminds me. Rosemary called while you were in the shower. She said she has a surprise for us and requested that we drive the Jeep and not your car,” he said, tossing the last bag in the back. “I hope it’s not one of those fru-fru dogs you see old ladies lugging around. I’m not flying all the way to Tahiti with a yapping bag of fleas that is trying to pass itself off as a canine.”

  “I can’t picture Rosemary with a lap dog, so I don’t think you have to worry. But I am curious as to what it could be. Hurry up, let’s go find out!” I said, feeling like a little kid.

  ROSEMARY’S bags were already on her porch, stacked neatly by the front door. Obviously, she was just as excited about the trip as we were. Steve and I walked up the steps together, one hand firmly clasped with mine, the other at the middle of my back.

  “I’m not going to fall you know. I’m only three months along. You can coddle me when I’m pushing seven months. By then, I will look like a beached whale; I just won’t be as graceful,” I said, laughing at the protective vibe Steve had been exhibiting ever since we found out I was pregnant.

  “Um, honey, I take no chances when it comes to you,” he said, his voice teasing. “You kind of are a magnet for trouble; you know that, right?”

  Before I could respond with a snarky comeback, Rosemary opened the door.

  “Perfect timing, my lovelies! Come in; come in. I just have to grab my purse…oh, and show you my surprise,” she said, opening the door wide for us to enter. Once inside, she hugged me and then pulled back, a strange look casting a quick shadow across her face. Her eyes widened just a hair, and then they lit up with excitement and knowing.

  “Steve, would you be so kind to escort us into the living room? I believe you will enjoy what awaits us there as well.”

  Steve leaned over and whispered, “It’s a dog; I know it.”

  “Good afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Ronson. So fine to see you both again.”

  My jaw dropped, and so did Steve’s when we realized that the “surprise” was Michael Stevenson, sitting in the corner chair, dressed in an obnoxious floral shirt with matching Bermuda shorts. He rose to his feet and met Rosemary at the halfway mark of the room and reached out for her hand. The look of love that passed between the two of them was something that A-list actors only wished they could portray.

  Steve broke the silence first as he moved toward him and shook his withered hand. “Mr. Stevenson! What an absolute pleasure to see you again.” I knew right then from the tone in his voice he was not surprised to see him.

  “All right, someone want to let me off the hook and tell me what I’m missing here?” I said. Then I moved over and hugged the wrinkly neck of the man that saved my life. “If I had to guess, it appears we have an extra guest to accompany us, but why the secrecy? I am more than delighted that you are here. After all, if it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t be,” I said, motioning between me and Steve.

  Rosemary shuffled over and took my hand and led me to the couch, patting the spot next to her.

  “I have something to ask you, Audra, and I couldn’t think of a better time to do so than on your anniversary. Do you remember when I told you that I considered you my avenging angel, one sent from above to unbreak my heart and bring peace to Gina?”

  I nodded, tears immediately springing into my eyes as she spoke.

  “Well, you have become even more to me than that. Much more than I could ever express with mere words. One thing I will say, though, is that your existence in my life has made me feel alive and whole again, and I realized how much I had been missing.” She paused, her watering eyes glanced over at Michael. “Not only have you helped bring me back to life, but you also opened the door to something I never thought I would experience again while here on earth. Love.”

  She paused and wiped away a tear from her cheek and continued.

  “After I found out that Michael here saved both of your lives, I had to get in touch with him to express my gratitude. Turns out, we have a lot in common and sort of just clicked, so when he asked me to marry him, I said yes.”

  I almost knocked the poor thing off the couch in my excitement as I flung my arms around her neck. “Oh, my God! Congratulations!”

  “Wait…I’m not finished with my news yet!” she chirped.

  I pulled back. “Let me guess: you’re getting married in Tahiti?” I said, smiling when she nodded in agreement.

  “And I want you to be the matron of honor.”

  Steve and Michael were grinning from ear to ear as they walked over to us and a full-circle embrace ensued between us all. After a few minutes of congratulations and murmurings, it was time for our surprise.

  “Well, since we are already crying, it’s my turn to share some news,” I said, holding Steve’s hand. “I’m pregnant.”

  Rosemary looked at me, that knowing look from before returning to her face.

  “But I’m guessing by that look on your face, you already knew? Steve,” I said, gripping his hand harder, “did you tell her?”

  Rosemary put her cool hand on my cheek and responded. “Honey, he didn’t have to. I knew because my Gina came to me and told me in a dream a few weeks ago. She didn’t tell me when…just that you would be. Besides, you are positively radiant. I’ve never seen you look so beautiful.”

  My eyes misted over--another connection that we seemed to share although I had no idea why we seemed to have been blessed with such an otherworldly gift. While on our trip together, I planned on discussing my vision of Gina and Jesse with her since I had never told her what I experienced.

  “Well, did she happen to tell you that we are having twins—a boy and a girl?”

  “Oh, sweetie, what wonderful news! No, surprises are always in store around each corner, aren’t they? Oh, I am so excited! When are you due? We need to start planning baby showers if you are going to have two at once. Two of everything…oh Steve, you best get to building onto your house!”

  “Hey, I just found out that little nugget of gold myself, but I promise, as soon as we return, the hammering will commence!” Steve said, his proud poppa smile making him look slightly goofy. “Since I am officially retired, what better project could I have than to help build a bigger nest for our little ones?”

  “I’m only three months along, Rosemary. I believe we have plenty of time to plan,” I laughed.

  “Have you two picked out any names yet?” Michael shocked us all when he interjected himself into the conversation.

  “Well, actually, yes. Steven Beck, Jr. and Regina Gabrielle, in honor of th
em both,” I replied, the words almost garbled from the lump in my throat.

  Rosemary leaned in and hugged me, her grip tight and full of love. I could feel her warm tears trickle down my back. She whispered in my hair so only I could hear.

  “From the agonizing ashes of heartache and sorrow, love and life always find a way. Always.”

  “HOW are you holding up honey?”

  Jane couldn’t hold back her sigh as she stared out into the aquamarine waters from the bow of the ship. “I’m hanging in there, Dad. Best as can be expected, I guess.”

  Hayward Jessup closed his eyes, fighting back the tears of anger that threatened to burst forth. Jane was his only child and he had doted on her ever since her first breath. He had never been able to deny any request that she ever had and spoiled her rotten. Hayward’s love for her only intensified when his wife died from cancer when Jane was only three. His love for his wife was transferred to the mirror image of her that Jane was, and even though he always knew it was unhealthy, Hayward let Jane have whatever her heart desired.

  If someone or something ever stood in her way of happiness, he didn’t care how much money or effort it took, Hayward just made damn sure she was satisfied. But Jane had been a headstrong and willful child and when she entered adulthood, her stubborn streak led her to rebel. That rebellion shoved her in the path of Olin Kemper, and despite the hours of pleading and begging, she married the sorry excuse for a man against Hayward’s wishes.

  Hayward had always hoped that Jane would come to her senses and leave the prick, but when Ethan was born, Jane’s stubbornness was set. She was determined to make her little family a cohesive unit.

  Unfortunately, she married the wrong man for that to work.

  When Jane called him two years prior and told him the news of Ethan’s overdose, Hayward rushed to Phoenix from his penthouse in New York to console her. Jane had been in seclusion ever since Olin’s arrest, hiding out from the hordes of reporters that sought her comments. He could tell from several of their late night conversations that Jane had been hitting the bottle heavily, and his concern for her well-being had weighed his heart down with distress. A few weeks before the trial, Jane seemed to have snapped out of her depression and reached out to Hayward for support after months of shutting him out of her life.

  Perhaps she had finally come to terms with the fact that she was just another victim of Olin’s sick life. Then Jane took a turn for the worse when Olin was murdered, and she almost crumbled when Ethan died. What thin tether of sanity Jane held onto snapped when the investigation in his death concluded that Ethan and some low-life lawyer had been working together to steal all of Olin’s money, and their unholy union ended with both of them dead.

  Jane had refused to accept the truth about her son’s plans to steal Olin’s fortune. She was convinced that Ethan killed himself because he was unable to cope with Olin’s incarceration, the media attention and eventually, his murder. When Hayward tried to console Jane a few nights after Ethan’s funeral, she had flown into a screaming rage when Hayward brought the subject up. She had ordered Hayward out of her life then collapsed onto the floor, her gut-wrenching sobs filling the room with their agony.

  After that fiasco, Hayward had immediately sent Jane on a cruise around the world, hoping the change of scenery would ease her suffering. He had even flown over to a few locations to meet up with her at some of his favorite ports of call, trying to distract her from her the fact that her son was gone. But he knew that each anniversary of Ethan’s death would be difficult on her, so he had planned a surprise for this year, hoping to coax her back to the states.

  “Each day will get easier my sugar, I promise. You just need to find other things to occupy your thoughts. I think I have the perfect idea to do just that.”

  He heard her veiled sniffle. “Oh, and what’s that, Dad?”

  “Well, I thought maybe you could come to New York and…” he began, but she abruptly cut him off.

  “Dad, you know how much I hate the weather and the traffic there. Why in the world would you think that would make me feel any better? Aside from visiting with you, nothing about New York appeals to me.”

  Hayward cringed silently at her words, not only from the pain they inflicted on him but because he could hear the slur in her voice. If she didn’t stop drinking, she was headed to an early grave, and Hayward didn’t think he would survive burying his daughter.

  “Oh, come now, pumpkin. We could take in some shows, maybe a day at…”

  Jane snapped, her words cold and viscous.

  “No! I told you, I don’t like New York, and I don’t plan on doing anything except floating around on this yacht. My life now consists of cold martinis, hot sun, and cool water. That’s it. The only thing keeping me going is the beauty of my surroundings and alcohol, so please drop it, Dad. Besides,” she said, pausing to take a sip of her drink, “I have a girlfriend here with me now to help ease my pain, so I have no interest in leaving.”

  Hayward felt sick. He knew he needed to say something to change her mind: the problem was he had no idea what that something might be.

  “Daddy,” she said, her voice barely above a faint whisper, “I know what would cheer me up, but you have to promise me that you won’t be mad at me for asking.”

  Hayward’s heart began beating faster, a wide smile spreading across his face.

  “Of course I won’t be mad, darling. Anything you want, I’ll get for you.”

  “I want my son back.”

  The excitement Hayward felt seconds earlier disappeared in a flash at Jane’s morbid request. He felt the tears form in his eyes as her words of insanity sunk in.

  “Honey, you know that’s not possible…”

  “Then we have nothing left to discuss,” she said and hung up.

  Hayward Jessup shed tears of agony for his daughter in New York, his own heart aching, feeling helpless to quell his daughter’s pain. There was something not right in her voice, a tension that sounded foreign to him. Ominous and dark, it sent a twinge of fear tingle across his chest. He picked up the phone and called his assistant.

  “Holland, call the hanger and have the Gulfstream prepped. Then pack my bags. We’re taking a trip to Tahiti. Immediately.”

  JANE Kemper sipped her drink in the warm Tahitian sun, her anger simmering just below the surface, causing the contents of her glass to spill out and all over her lap. In the state she was currently in, she didn’t even flinch as the icy liquid splashed onto her bare legs. She heard the soft footsteps of her shipmate approach from behind her and smiled. Once her friend was seated next to her, Jane turned to face her, waiting for the latest news from the states.

  “I just spoke with my contact in Phoenix. He confirmed that all parties boarded the plane and that the flight is scheduled to arrive in two hours.”

  Jane raised her half-empty glass in a mock toast, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

  “Here’s to us. Our redemption draws nigh!”

  Elaine Jennings smiled, raising her own glass to meet Jane’s, the brilliant sun bouncing off of the fine crystal, sending a rainbow of sparkles across both of their haggard faces. She didn’t respond to her partner in crime, she just stared out into the vast waters of the Pacific Ocean, her thoughts filled with murder and mayhem.

  And revenge.

  About the Author

  International bestselling author Ashley Fontainne is an avid reader of mostly the classics. Ashley became a fan of the written word in her youth, starting with the Nancy Drew mystery series. Stories that immerse the reader deep into the human psyche and the monsters that lurk within us are her favorite reads.

  Her muse for penning this series was The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexander Dumas. The revenge on all those who hurt and betrayed Edmond Dantes and the incredible rollercoaster ride his journey takes you on intrigued her. Ashley’s love for this book is what sparked her desire to write her debut novel, Accountable to None, the first book in the trilogy Eviscerating the Sna
ke. With a modern setting to the tale, Ashley delves into the lengths a person is willing to go when they seek personal justice for heinous acts perpetrated upon them. The second novel in the series, Zero Balance, focuses on the cost and reciprocal cycle that obtaining revenge has on the seeker. For once the cycle starts, where does it end? How far will the tendrils of revenge expand? Adjusting Journal Entries, the third in the series, answers that question: far and wide.

  Born and raised in California, Ashley now calls Arkansas home with her husband and four children. She also enjoys writing poetry and short stories and recently published Ramblings of a Mad Southern Woman: A Collection of Short Stories and Poetry on Life, Love, Loss and Longing, which is available on Amazon. Ashley is also a supporter of the Joyful Heart Foundation that assists victims of violent crime seeking help and healing, and donates 10% of all yearly book sales to the cause.

  Table of Contents

  copyright Information

  Praise for accountable to none

  Praise for adjusting journal entries

  dedication

  Foreword by charlotte foreman

  cast of characters

  ACCOUNTABLE TO NONE

  Prologue

  chapter one

  chapter two

  chapter three

  chapter four

  chapter five

  chapter six

  chapter seven

  chapter eight

  chapter nine

  chapter ten

  chapter eleven

  chapter twelve

  chapter thirteen

  epilogue

  ZERO BALANCE