When I saw Phoenix at the party, I knew he was a changed man. I didn’t know to what extent, but it didn’t matter to me. I was still attracted to him … like I’ve always been. We’re like magnets, two opposing forces clashing with each other again and again.
Only this time I came out on top.
The police found the girl’s body in the sand, and ultimately traced it back to his apartment, where conveniently the poison that also killed my husband was found, stashed underneath the couch. Put one and two together, and you have a murder case solved.
My name was cleared, even though one might argue that I’m sleeping with my husband’s brother and had therefore planned everything with him in order to get rid of Phillip. However, it turns out the case of the curious killer, aka Phoenix Sullivan, is a much more believable plot. Especially when combined with photos that I took of my husband with his girlfriend. His motive became unquestionable.
How fortunate for me.
But here’s the truth: I’m as much conniving as this supposed killer.
One could argue who of us two is the real killer.
I guess things like that will always stay inconclusive.
As I walk through the hallway of the police station, still drinking my water, I take a peek through one of the interrogation room windows; the one Phoenix is in. And for a moment, he gazes into my eyes, which are filled with delight upon seeing his hands chained to the table. He screams, “Vanessa! I’m going to kill you for this!”
Smiling at him, I wink and blow him a kiss. Then I turn around. Throwing my plastic cup in the bin, I can’t help but think ‘let him try.’
Chapter Twelve
Vanessa
Yesterday, before the arrest
“Pablo, I’m going out. Lock the windows for me, will you? And don’t let anyone in unless it’s me,” I say as I put on my white gloves.
“Do you need a lift, madam?” he asks as he watches me put on my coat.
“No, thank you. I’d rather go alone.” The truth is that I don’t want anyone snooping around while I’m hunting for a killer.
Time to pay Phoenix Sullivan a visit. I’m going in broad daylight because I assume he won’t be home during the day and probably doesn’t expect me to come at this time. Always surprise your enemies.
I jump in my Aston Martin convertible and drive off, putting the address into my TomTom as I race through the streets. I’m just below the speed limit, so I won’t get a ticket but still able to get to his house quick.
When I get there, it’s not at all what I expected. A small apartment building in the middle of town, with noisy cars racing by, streetlights shining through the windows that probably keep the tenants awake, and an awfully rotten smell hanging in the air. Damn, I didn’t know killers could live like this. Well, the more you know…
I park my car somewhere hidden from the apartment building and then make my way to the front door. Before I go in, I check if there’s anyone following me or looking at me. When I know the coast is clear, I enter the building and go up the stairs.
Number fifteen is just above, and the closer I get, the harder my heart is beating. I’m starting to wonder if he’s really not home. I mean, would killers kill in broad daylight? Maybe not. Maybe he’s home, waiting for me so he can strike me down where I’m vulnerable … in his own home. I’m walking into my own grave.
Except, the moment I realize this could all go to hell, I’ve already knocked on the door.
I wanted to make sure nobody was home.
What a stupid move.
I want to slap myself in the face for even considering it, but now it’s too late. The handle is moving, the lock fiddled with, and then the creaky door opens. I swallow away the fear seeping down my throat, which feels blocked as I face the person who steps forward.
It’s a woman.
Confused, I part my lips, but I have no idea what to say. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be in here, let alone a woman. I’m a bit flabbergasted.
“Hi, can I help you?” she asks.
Frowning, I gaze at her. She looks so familiar, but I don’t know why.
“Uh …” I briefly shake my head to pull myself together. “I’m sorry, I’m a bit confused. I thought a guy named Phoenix lived here?”
“Yeah, he does, but he isn’t here right now.” The door closes a little, and I get the sense that she isn’t so keen on actually helping at all.
I place my hand on the door. “Wait.”
She looks up at me with frightened doe-like eyes, her fingers clutching around the wood in an attempt to brace herself for what’s coming. And that’s when I realize why she looks so familiar. Those eyes, that voice, the way she moves … My jaw drops.
“It’s you …” I mumble. “You live in his house … You’re Phoenix’s girlfriend?”
She looks confused. “Yes, but please leave now.”
Oh, my god. I can’t believe it.
Phoenix’s girlfriend is the same woman who slept with my husband.
Within a second, my gloved hands are around her throat as I push her inside and slam the door shut with my heel. No one needs to see or hear what’s going to happen in here.
*
Phoenix
With a nice cash withdrawal, I make my way back to the car, ensuring I’ve tucked the money safely in my bag. I throw it in the backseat of the car and drive off. It’s not much, but it’s more than any man normally carries, which is why I’m careful not to run into any police by driving cautiously.
My girl doesn’t know about this money. She thinks I’m a poor salesman, and I’d rather keep it that way. Fuck, if she knew I was carrying this much cash, she’d try to pry it from my fingers. She’d probably even go as far as to rake it from underneath my dead body, that money hungry bitch.
Nope, no way I’m ever going to tell her what I really do for a living. Besides, it’s too complicated and too many things at once. I’m what you call a jack-of-all-trades. If they want me to kill, I kill. If they want me to sell drugs or torture someone, I will do just that. I don’t care what or where, I will get the job done, which is why people like to pay me.
Don’t judge me. I do what I must to survive.
Besides, it’s not like I’m the only one with a questionable profession. My girl isn’t a saint, either. She works at a strip club where customers love to take pictures of the women, including mine. I don’t mind, it’s not like they’re competition anyway.
Unless, of course, she tries to fuck them. In which case, I will bury them alive.
Don’t fucking touch my girl. I don’t love her, hell, I don’t even fucking like the bitch, but her pussy is mine and no other man will get between those legs. Ever. Which is also one of the reasons Phillip Starr is now dead.
I park my car close to the building and go up to my apartment. When I reach number fifteen, the door is open.
“What the …”
I tread carefully through the door, trying not to make a sound. I don’t know what the fuck happened here, but I sure as hell won’t be caught by surprise by some burglar. The curtains are closed and the lights are off, which turned the living room dark. I find the light switch and flip it on.
What I find in the middle of the room shocks me so much that I throw my keys so hard they make a hole in the wall.
“Fucking hell!”
My girl is tied up in a chair, her head hanging, showing no sign of life. I rush to her side and press a finger against her neck. No pulse.
“Fuck!” I fish in my pocket and take out the Swiss Knife I always carry with me and cut through the ropes that bind her, which turn out to be the ropes that kept the curtains together. I grab her lifeless body and place it on the ground. That’s when I notice the foam bubbling out of her mouth.
“Oh, fuck no …” I mumble, pressing my hands on her chest.
I start pumping, using both hands to push down on her ribs. However, nothing seems to jumpstart her heart. After a few minutes, I give up and sit down with my head rest
ing on the chair, sweat drops dripping down my back. Panting, I throw the knife on the floor and growl.
She’s gone. I might not have loved her, but she lived with me for quite a few weeks, and I did actually enjoy her presence, unlike most women I spend time with. I can’t believe she’s gone. I might actually miss her. I didn’t want her to die. It wasn’t her time yet. Someone killed her, and it wasn’t me.
Fuck that. I know who it was and what it was. She was poisoned, and from the smell of it, I know exactly where it was taken from.
I get up from the floor and search through the cabinets in my kitchen, throwing aside all other herb pots. I don’t even care that they break apart on the floor, leaving a mess, as I fly through the cabinets looking for that one fucking bottle. The same bottle I used on Phillip Starr.
That one bottle is now gone.
And I know exactly who took it.
I know she saw my license plate, but fuck, I didn’t think she’d actually go for it. I thought I scared her enough. Guess I was wrong. Fuck! I fucking hate her. She fucking dared to step foot into my house and murder my girlfriend? She’ll fucking pay for this. I’ll make sure of it.
Rage boils up inside me, consuming me whole, as I roar out loud. “Vanessa!”
Chapter Thirteen
Vanessa
A few days later
The toaster dings, and I take out the toast and pour coffee into the mug, then bring it to Arthur on a tray. “Here you go, honey.”
“Thank you,” he says, smiling broadly like the lucky fucker he is. Finally, someone who’s grateful for everything I do. Arthur is just the man I need in my life. Trustworthy, reliable, and humble. Not the type of man I usually go for, but it’s certainly a breath of fresh air.
I go outside and get the mail from the mailbox. Inside, while drinking a cup of tea, I open the letters.
“Oh, look!” I say, holding up the one I’m reading. “It’s from my lawyer.”
“What’s it about?” he asks.
“They’re finally allowing me access to Phillip’s funds.”
His jaw drops. “Does that mean …”
“Everything is mine!” I say, smiling. I’m so happy; I could burst into tears.
“Now you can invest it in your study. Your business. Maybe even your acting career,” he says.
“I know, right? Finally … it’s time for me,” I say, wiping away a tear while Arthur gets up from his seat.
“I’m so happy for you,” he says, as he hugs me tight.
I’m still smiling like crazy as I open the next letter, but this one instantly wipes the smile off my face and punches me in the stomach as well. My hands shake as I read the words out loud.
I’ll come for you, Princess. One way or another, I’m going to get you … and when I do, be ready to run hard and fast.
Because I know what you’ve done.
Love I hate you to death,
Phoenix
The End
STALKER
The Stand Alone
Fuck me once, I’ll fuck you twice … then I’ll bury you.
No prison can keep me from seeking revenge. Especially when it comes to her.
She, the woman who put me in jail.
I swore that I’d come for her, to claim what belongs to me: Her life.
I’m not a good man. On the contrary, I love to be bad. It’s in my veins. Just like it’s in my veins to ruin her.
She’s an actress, pretending to be a saint, but we both know that isn’t true. One way or another, she’ll pay for what she did.
I will hunt for her. Make her fear me. Make her body mine.
Bad deeds never go unpunished … And I always go out with a bang.
WARNING: This book is a DARK ROMANCE STANDALONE – it has a non-conventional ending. This isn’t rainbow sprinkles & unicorn fluff. It’s a dark, thrilling journey of two people clashing over love, lust, and hatred. Heed the warning. Contains graphic violence, alcohol, drugs & other disturbing content.
No Cliffhanger. Stand Alone.
Click here for Stalker!
Or click here check out Clarissa Wild’s other books
Other Books by Clarissa Wild
Dark Romance
Delirious Series
Mr. X
New Adult Romance
Fierce Series
Blissful Series
Erotic Romance
The Billionaire’s Bet Series
Enflamed Series
About Clarissa Wild
Clarissa Wild is the USA Today Bestselling author of FIERCE, a college romance series, but she’s best known for the dark Romance novel Mr. X. She is also a writer of erotic romance such as the Blissful Series, The Billionaire’s Bet series, the Doing It Series and the Enflamed Series. She is an avid reader and writer of sexy stories about hot men and feisty women. Her other loves include her furry cat friend and learning about different cultures. In her free time she enjoys watching all sorts of movies, reading tons of books and cooking her favorite meals.
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Rodeo Romance
Teresa Gabelman
RODEO ROMANCE
Copyright © 2015 Teresa Gabelman
All rights reserved. The right of Teresa Gabelman to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. This is a work of fiction and any resemblance between the characters and persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
Gabelman, Teresa (5-6-2015). RODEO ROMANCE.
Editor: Hot Tree Editing
Photo: iStockphoto
Cover Art: Ron Gabelman
www.teresagabelman.com
www.facebook.com/pages/Teresa-Gabelman/191553587598342
Chapter One
Trisha Summers watched the Texas scenery pass by without really seeing it. Fear rose, threatening to choke her, but she forced it away with a hard swallow.
“He won’t find you here, Trish.” Her best friend glanced at her quickly, before turning her eyes back to the road. “I covered our tracks. So just chill out, enjoy our little vacation and once he realizes you mean business, when the restraining order hits, he’ll back off.”
Not wanting to talk about her ex, Trisha changed the subject quickly. “So, why a dude ranch?” She glanced at Cindy trying not to laugh. They were both city girls, but Cindy more so than her. “Why not a tropical beach somewhere?”
“Cowboys are hot.” Cindy grinned, wiggling her eyebrows. “And they had the best looking ones on their brochure.”
Her answer would shock most, but not Trisha. Cindy said what she wanted, when she wanted, and she couldn’t care less who she said it to. This was one of the many reasons why she loved her.
“When I booked the trip, I even asked if those guys really worked there.” Cindy winked at Trisha. “I just like eye candy while sunning myself.”
“Do you even know what a dude ranch is?”
“Yeah.” She tossed Cindy a duh look. “It’s a ranch with dudes.”
This was going to be good. So good in fact Trisha was going to let Cindy carry on believing that. She’d find out soon enough. Instead, she made sure Cindy knew her exact feeling on the ‘men’ situation. “Cindy, I don’t care how many cowboys you round up, but I have no interest in anything that has dangling parts.”
“Even if that dangling part is huge and attached to someone who knows how to use it?” Cindy shook her head. “Doug really did a number on you and it’s time you got a new number.”
“How about we don’t talk about Doug?” Trisha focused on the passing scenery, the tightening sickness in her stomach gripping her hard. Every time his name was brought up, her reaction was fear, with a mix of embarrassment. Doug was a mistake she wished would go away.
“Deal, and this vacation is about us.” Cindy nodded as if that sealed the deal. “No men.”
Trisha snorted. “Yeah, right.”
“Hey, I’m trying
to be a good friend here.” She tried her best to look offended, but she couldn’t quite pull it off. When Trisha laughed, Cindy frowned. “What?”
“I really appreciate your sacrifice, but wherever you go, men seem to flock.” Noticing the sour look on Cindy’s face, Trisha turned away, trying to hide her growing grin.
“Flock?” Cindy said incredulously. “You make me sound like a bird in heat.”
“It is what it is, Cindy. You’re a gorgeous thirty year—”
“Twenty-five,” Cindy cut in quickly.
“—old having fun and that’s the way it should be.” Ignoring Cindy’s lie, she continued, “And I don’t know much about birds, but I don’t think they go into heat.”
“Well, it sounded good and if they don’t, they should,” Cindy said with another nod, then grinned, her eyes going to Trisha. “I’m sure I could ask one of those sexy cowboys. They know all about animals and things like that.”
Trisha rolled down her window, letting the steamy heat into the car. Her dark hair blew in her face, but she didn’t care. At least she could breathe. “I think cowboys work with cows and horses, not birds.”
“Well, I guess we’ll find out soon enough.” Cindy clicked on her blinker. Up ahead was a sign that read ‘McCabe Ranch.’ “Watch out, boys! Here we come!” Trisha shook her head at how quickly her friend forgot her promise of no men.
The driveway was long and dusty, so dusty Trisha had to roll her window up. Large trees lined the drive, with a fence along the huge property. Her eyes rose, and in the distance, she saw a lone man on a horse. His head turned, but she couldn’t see his features. Trisha noticed that Cindy had slowed the car down to a crawl. Turning, she saw her friend looking around her at the cowboy on the horse with wide, hungry eyes.