Ruthless: Book 2 of the Shattered Chronicles

by Ciana Stone

  What the hell? In the long run it didn’t really matter how she looked or what the people at the office thought. Cord was depending on her and she wouldn’t let him down. Dark thoughts she was trying to escape intruded and Morgan choked back tears. She knew Cord was depending on her, but maybe she shouldn’t have left Ghost. If anything happened to him she’d never forgive herself.

  The medical professional inside told her that she’d done everything that could be done for Ghost. Moreover, there was no one she trusted more than Joe and Mabel to take care of him. If anyone could help him pull through it was them. Still, she couldn’t get the image out of her mind–the way he struggled to breathe and that damn woman holding her rifle.

  Morgan would have preferred to hold onto the anger that thought inspired, rather than let her thoughts turn to what the woman said. Stop it. You know Cord wouldn’t betray you like that. He said so and Cord doesn’t lie. That bitch was just trying to play with your head.

  She continued with her internal dialogue, shaming herself for even entertaining the idea that Cord would cheat or lie to her. By the time she pulled into the parking lot of Alexander Enterprises, she’d managed to loosen her white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel. Barely.

  Just as she opened the door to get out, more troublesome thoughts ran through her mind. But why was that woman there? Why did she say those things and what did she hope to accomplish?

  With a growl of frustration, Morgan headed for the entrance of the building.

  Andrews County, Texas

  Cord’s stomach rumbled, reminding him it was time to eat. He checked the time. He should have heard from Morgan by now. Maybe she’d had an emergency, but he thought it odd that she hadn’t at least called. Maybe she just got busy and forgot. Between her Vet clinic and the ranch her plate was pretty full. Hoping that was the case he tried again.

  It took only seconds to activate the communications application and key in the address of Juan’s computer. There was a brief pause and then a message appeared in a pop-up letting him know he'd not yet gained access.

  Cord blew out a tired breath, leaned back in his seat and stared at the monitor. What now? His stomach growled again and made the decision for him. He tucked the map into his messenger bag and made his way out of the facility.

  On the drive to the hotel, Cord looked around at the passing scenery. The site was situated in the western part of the county, on the border with New Mexico and occupied fourteen thousand acres.

  Cord remembered when the private company who started the storage facility was awarded a license to dispose of radioactive waste by TCEQ, the Texas Commission on Environmental Quality. That was in 2009, and the license allowed for the disposal of radioactive materials like plutonium, thorium and uranium from commercial power plants, medical schools and academic institutions.

  He couldn’t remember paying much attention to it until the facility was completed and began storing waste in 2012. There were two radioactive waste landfills at the site. One was a 30-acre compact site that was owned and regulated by the State of Texas for use by Texas, Vermont and up to 36 other states.

  The second landfill, a 90-acre federal site, was owned by the United States federal government and used for Department of Energy and other federal waste. It was a department director who brought Cord and his tracking application to the attention of the DOE.

  Cord remembered the first time he and Juan visited the site. Juan wasn’t impressed at all with the landscape. He said it reminded him too much of his childhood, when, his father, a researcher had moved his family to the edge of the Atacama Desert in South America.

  Cord had never heard of the Atacama and as it turned out, the desert, which is between Peru and Chile is relatively unknown. It covers 41,000 square miles and is not as well-known as the Sahara or the Mojave but has a claim to fame that is often mistakenly attributed to the Sahara. It is the driest desert in the world.

  Juan hated it there. “Goddamn sand everywhere you look!” He declared. “Sand in the yard, sand in the street, sand on the floors of your house and on your clothes and even in your mouth. Wretched sand everywhere! I hate the goddamn desert!”

  Cord smiled at the memory. He and Morgan had laughed until they almost cried as they listened to Juan go on about the desert. Cord had to give Juan credit. He took their laughter good-naturedly. That thought wiped the smile from Cord’s face and turned his thoughts from good times of the past to concerns of the present.

  He pulled into a parking space in front of the hotel, turned off the car and slumped back against his seat. I can’t believe Juan would be involved in something illegal. Cord didn’t want to believe it was possible and hated that he was starting to have doubts. He’d always trusted Juan and couldn’t understand why Juan would do something like this. If he was, in fact, involved.

  Cord still wanted to believe he was not.

  Rock Ridge, Texas

  All chatter stopped the moment Morgan entered the lobby. The receptionist stopped in the middle of a phone conversation. Her mouth dropped open and her eyes widened. Another woman, standing at the counter to drop a Manilla envelope into the outgoing mail chute, blurted an expression of concern and hurried over to Morgan.

  “Oh, my god, are you okay, Mrs. Alexander? Do you need medical attention? Can I call- “

  Morgan evaded the questions by calmly strolling through the lobby as if everything was completely normal. “No, no, I’m fine. Thank you.”

  She made it to the corridor and turned the corner before anyone else could comment. It was just a short jaunt to Juan’s reception area on the right. Morgan stopped at the door and peeked around the corner to make sure no one was milling about. Relieved that the reception area was empty, she headed inside. Now, if I can just get by Emma.

  Luck was with her when she started across the reception area that preceded Juan’s office. Emma’s desk was vacant, and Morgan was grateful she wouldn’t have to deal with Emma. She sprinted over to the door leading into Juan’s private office and just as she grabbed the handle it was yanked from her hand by the door opening inward.

  Unprepared, her momentum carried her into the room and smack into Emma, who was on her way out. The impact jarred Emma backward. The heels of her shoes snagged on the nubby pile of the Berber carpet and she wobbled for a split second before her rear hit the floor with her legs straight out in front of her.

  “Oh dear.” Morgan instinctively reached out. “Emma, I’m so sorry.” In an attempt to help Emma to stand, she stepped forward and planted her muddy shoe firmly between Emma’s knees, leaving a lasting impression on the cream-colored skirt.

  “I’m sorry.” She helped Emma to her feet. “Are you okay?”

  Emma straightened, smoothed her skirt and frowned at the muddy footprint. “Perfectly fine,” she responded and then added in a haughty tone. “Merely a bit shaken. It is not often one finds oneself knocked to the floor whilst performing one’s job.”

  Morgan sincerely felt bad about bouncing the old bat on her caboose, but it was an accident and she had apologized. “Well do send me the cleaning bill. And now, if you’ll excuse me.” She motioned toward the door to indicate that Emma should leave.

  Emma, however, didn’t budge. “What might I assist you with, Mrs. Alexander?” Her tone was barely solicitous and very caustic.

  “Nothing, thank you,” Morgan kept her tone friendly and polite. “I need to set up Juan’s computer for Cord.” She stepped around Emma to go to the desk.

  For a large woman, Emma moved very quickly and got in Morgan’s way. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Alexander, but Mr. Ramirez did not leave any instructions on this matter. I’ll have to call and clear this with him before allowing you to proceed.”

  A knot of frustration formed in Morgan’s stomach. It was proving to be harder than she’d imagined fulfilling her promise to Cord.

  “No!” She spoke more sharply than intended and at the suspicious look Emma shot her, quickly softened her tone. “There’s no need to bother J
uan with this. I’m sure Cord’s already discussed it with him and even if they haven’t, Cord will get up with him.”

  She then walked over to the door and as she spoke, put her left hand on the edge of it and with her right, made a sweeping motion. “So, if you’ll please excuse me, Emma, I’ll do what I need to and then be out of your way.

  It took one red-hot second to realize the ploy wasn’t working. Emma remained rooted in place with a stubborn frown on her face.

  Morgan’s jaw clenched in irritation. Emma was Juan’s executive secretary before he moved to the United States, when he worked for VinCon in their main offices in Italy. She made the move with him when he became President of the new VinCon office in America. Likewise, she made the move with him when he invested in Alexander Enterprises and was made minority partner.

  Emma made it clear from the onset that she didn’t approve of Cord holding a higher rank in the company than Juan. Over the years, she’d made no secret to hide her dislike of Cord and had commented on numerous occasions that as far as she was concerned, Cord was ill-equipped to head the business. Not only was he entirely too casual with his employees, but his casual manner and the way he dressed was entirely unacceptable. Why once, she’d seen him come into work wearing shorts.

  Juan, on the other hand, was always perfectly groomed and rarely did you see him in anything other than an expensive three-piece suit, starched shirt and polished shoes.

  As Juan’s executive secretary, Emma saw herself as the foundation that supported the company. She ran his office in a shipshape fashion, everything in its proper place and everything conducted in proper fashion.

  With a personality the other employees described as Attila the Hun, she was quite unpopular. She possessed no real authority but didn’t let that stop her from acting as if she did. Her orders were received with eye-rolls and her reprimands with middle finger salutes, but she didn’t let that stop her.

  Just like she wasn’t stopping now. “Mrs. Alexander,” she intoned loftily, “I should not have to remind you that I am Mr. Ramirez’s executive secretary, and, as such, it is my responsibility to oversee everything that transpires in this office. Now, since it is my duty– “

  “That’s enough,” Morgan interrupted. She’d hit her fill. She didn’t much like Emma to begin with and Emma’s high-handed attitude was coming at the wrong time. Normally, Morgan would have let it slide, but she’d already had a really shitty day and it wasn’t even noon. So, she didn’t bother to mitigate the venom in her tone.

  “Let me remind you, Emma, that I, along with Cord, hold most of the stock in this company and it is my signature that appears on your paycheck. So, I’d suggest that if you want to keep receiving those paychecks, you get the hell out of my way. And I mean now.”

  Emma’s face turned red and she puffed like an old locomotive as she stomped through the door. No sooner had she cleared the opening, Morgan slammed the door behind her and went to Juan’s computer. As soon as it booted, she logged in with the password Cord provided and in seconds she had the system set to wait for his call.

  She marched out of the office and cut Emma a look. “If you value your job, you’ll not touch that computer. You hear me?”

  “Yes.” Emma huffed out a response and looked away.

  Morgan gave her another annoyed look and left. So much for a little favor.

  Odessa, Texas

  Cord stopped at the front desk to ask if he’d had any messages. “Not so far,” the desk clerk replied politely. “Welcome back, sir.”

  “Thanks. It’s good to see you, Mary.” Cord always stayed at the same hotel when he had to be at the Andrews County facility. Odessa was the closest city of size to it and had good places to stay and eat.

  With a parting smile, he turned and headed for his room. As hungry as he was, he wanted a shower more. Just as he rounded the corner to his hallway, he stopped dead in his tracks. Halfway down the hall was a sight that’d cause most red-blooded men to drool. Pointed right at him was the back of a long pair of knockout legs.

  He couldn’t stop the smile that rose on his face as his eyes traveled up. Long shapely legs encased in stockings rose from what he thought were called stiletto-heeled shoes to a perfect firm rear. He allowed his eyes to travel over the sight without censoring.

  The woman was bent forward, apparently retrieving her keycard from the floor. Bending over had cause her short skirt to rise high enough to present an appealing view of her backside. Beneath the skirt a thin strap of pink lace bisected her ass, covering only enough to leave a fraction available to the imagination.

  She straightened and turned to unlock her door. As the side of her face became visible, Cord jolted in surprise and his mind shot to the past.

  He and Juan were sitting in a hotel bar. They’d just closed the deal with a company to supply the hardware needed to complete the tracking application. Cord was excited. This was a major contract, and the fact that the government had sought him had him pumped. Not to mention what they’d make. This put them in the big league and for the first time he felt like one of the big boys of business.

  Juan sat across from Cord with his back to the bar. Cord noticed the shapely legs as the woman sauntered to the bar and took a seat on one of the high stools. Those long legs crossed causing the short skirt to rise higher.

  Cord didn’t feel ashamed or guilty for looking. Like all men, he appreciated the sight of a beautiful woman. Juan, with his back to the bar, couldn’t see her and was caught up in going over the day’s events, drinking far faster than normal. When he paused to take a breath, he looked around.

  “Where’s the waiter? I need another drink.”

  “We got our drinks at the bar,” Cord reminded him.

  Juan scowled. He disliked what he considered the American concept of self-service. Cord just smiled and took Juan’s empty glass. “I’ll get it.”

  He gave Juan a pat on the shoulder when he passed and walked over to the bar. He stopped at a stool next to the woman where he waited for the bartender to notice him. She looked at him and smiled. Cord returned the smile and then turned his attention to the bartender who called out that he’d be with Cord in a moment.

  “Excuse me, but I have to tell you that you have absolutely beautiful eyes,” the woman said.

  Cord looked at her. “Me?”

  “Yes, you.”

  “Oh, well thank you,” he was both surprised and flattered by the compliment.

  “Are you here on business?”

  “Yes, you?”

  “Unfortunately,” she sighed. “You know, there was a time when I thought it would be so exciting and glamorous to have a job that allowed me to travel. Now, I realize it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”

  “Oh, how so?”

  “Well, you know,” she smiled and angled slightly more toward him on the stool. The motion caused her short skirt to rise even more. “It just gets so lonely.”

  Cord had a hard time believing that a woman with her looks would ever be lonely and was on the verge of saying as much when he realized the way she looked at him. It took him off guard but was also a pretty big boost to his ego.

  She smiled and extended her hand. “I’m sorry, I haven’t even introduced myself. My name’s Cassie.”

  “Cord Alexander,” he took her hand. “It’s a pleasure, Cassie.”

  “My thoughts, exactly.” She gave him a seductive smile and ran her fingers from his hand, up his arm and to his shoulder. “In fact, why don’t we get out of here and explore that–thoroughly.”

  Cord shook his head to dispel the memories. Cassie was opening the door to her room. He almost raised his hand and called out to her, but she disappeared into the room. It was probably just as well.

  He walked on down the hall to his room, tossed his messenger bag on the bed and headed straight for the shower, with thoughts of Cassie still in his mind.

  Cotton Creek, Texas

  Morgan glanced at the dashboard clock as she pulled around be
hind the house and parked by the garage. Two o’clock. Damn, what a day. She hoped she’d never see another like it because so far it had sucked. She looked around as she walked up the back steps and saw no sign of Mark Samuels. That was a relief. She was running out of fuel and didn’t feel she had the energy to deal with him again.

  She’d stopped at Myrtle’s on the way home to find Myrtle sitting on the sofa with Ghost who lay beside her as she crocheted. Morgan knelt down in front of the couch and rubbed Ghost. He was weak but even without instruments or lab tests she could tell there’d been an improvement. His tail thumped and he licked her face.

  “We’ll take good care of him, hon,” Myrtle promised.

  “And you have the cell phone I gave you, right?”

  Myrtle reached into her sweater pocket and produced the phone. “I’ve been doing just like you said and keeping it charged.”

  “And remembering to turn it on when you get up?”

  “Yes, and that. Now, scoot girl. You’re nasty and it’s almost time for my nap.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Morgan gave Ghost another rub then stood and blew Myrtle a kiss. “Call me if there’s a change?”

  “I will.”

  “Okay, I love you.”

  “I love you, more.”

  Seeing that Ghost had made some improvement not only relieved her but zapped the rest of her reserves. Morgan couldn’t remember feeling more tired. She stopped at the door to take off her shoes and leave them on the stoop, then went inside and made a beeline for the phone. “You have no messages.

  Disappointed that Cord hadn’t called she headed for the bathroom. Her cellphone was in her pocket, but she stopped in the bedroom to pick up the cordless just in case he called on the landline and went into the bathroom. Morgan needed to hear his voice. Most of all she needed to hear him reassure her that everything was going to be okay, that he loved her and didn’t know any auburn-haired woman.

  A beautiful woman, at that. That unwelcome thought brought with it a rush of jealousy. She stripped off her dirty clothes and tossed them into the clothes hamper. As she tried to work the elastic band loose from her tangled pony-tail, she wondered about the woman. How old was she? Thirty-five maybe?