“I’m Adam Cady,” the attorney replied. “And you?”
“I’m not here for small talk,” the man replied taking a chair. He leaned back, crossed a boot-clad foot over his one knee and smiled. “I want to know about restraining orders,” he said.
“Ah,” Adam responded quickly. The lights were coming on. “Perhaps you’re Jacob Coltrain?”
“Maybe you were expecting me?”
“No. I really wasn’t. It’s not my place to talk with you. Perhaps with your attorney.”
“I don’t need attorneys, and I’m not here to talk with you about anything. I’m here to tell you a few things.”
“And they are?” Adam took his seat behind his desk and waited.
“First off, you know she didn’t even tell you her real name?”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah, Eden Rose. Little bleached-haired slut.”
“Name’s not Leslie Ann Warhol?”
“She likes making up names and identities, her little drama. She thinks it’s mysterious. Keeps her happy I guess. Suppose she thinks she’ll keep hidden that way. The truth is, Mr. Cady, she’s mine. I don’t care what tangent she’s off on this week, she’s still mine. She’s mine now, she was last week, and a few days ago when she came crying to you, and she’ll still be mine when this blows over.”
“Yours? Like in you own her?”
“It’s not fashionable to own women, but this one likes it. She’s hit a rebellious streak lately, but she’ll be back. You’re taking her money for nothing. I’d appreciate your sending her on her way. I’m sure you’ll appreciate not wasting your time.”
“Perhaps I’ll let … Miss Rose is it … tell me that herself.”
“She will.”
“And you’re sure of that?”
“Oh, I’m sure. There’s obviously a lot you don’t know about her.”
“I only ask the pertinent questions.”
“I have a signed contract with her, in fact several. They keep her tied to me.”
“Like a slave?” He was amused.
“She’s a songwriter, I’m her producer and manager. We’ve got agreements, legally binding ones. She probably didn’t tell you that, did she?”
Adam didn’t reply.
“It’s all on paper, very up and up, and there are even some agreements that aren’t on paper. But they’re a given. Bottom line, Eden Rose is mine.”
“Thank you Mr. Coltrain, for the information,” Adam said after a moment’s appraisal. “I’ll take that into consideration the next time I speak with Miss Rose. I would suggest however that you do keep your distance. You are under a restraining order and for reasons that the Judge found quite compelling. You violate that, and all your agreements with her are pretty pointless.”
“I’m not sure you get it, man.” Jacob pointed a finger in Adam’s face while his expression remained cocky and rude. “She’ll be singing my praises by tomorrow, the whole thing will be like so much dust in the wind.”
Adam pursed his lips. “I suppose if you really felt that way, you wouldn’t be here now,” he speculated.
Jacob gave him a look as if to say “touché”. He walked out the smirk still in place.
The blonde walked into the law office the following afternoon, this time wearing dark sunglasses, a short-sleeved knit top and a long straight skirt with a slit up the thigh, all black. With the glasses off, Adam could see she’d been crying.
“Miss Warhol, have a seat.”
She was reluctant, staring at the leather chair for a moment before she plopped her bottom on the cool maroon surface.
“I hope the restraining order is working?” Adam continued.
“I haven’t seen Jacob, if that’s what you mean,” she said.
“Good.”
“But he does call,” she said.
“I see. Extreme? Frequent? Is he threatening you?”
“With Jacob there are always threats.”
“Oh? What kind of threats?” Adam asked.
“He says I can’t be rid of him. That I’m bound to him. He doesn’t care about restraining orders, he’ll have me.”
“Anything else?”
“He’s a very threatening man, Mr. Cady. I shudder every time I hear his voice. Two, three times a day, I’m afraid to pick up my phone.”
“You’ve been crying,” Adam observed.
She tried to smile, but it was very meek. Adam gazed at her for some moments expressionless, while the waif remained humble and innocent. He could sense his fascination for her rising again, that power of hers seducing him. He sensed as well his anger, the intense desire to bust through her game with a cutting version of the truth while maintaining his control. He wanted the authority to take her by the shoulders and shake her as if she was a naughty child and then lay his hand on her bare behind so she’d feel the burn for days. He stared at her, his eyes growing darker every second until she began to wilt.
“I’m not in business to take your money and do useless legal work, Miss Warhol. I expect to trust my clients. Trust that they are telling me the truth. When they lie it makes me look bad and always back-fires. You understand that?”
She didn’t reply.
“Do you understand that?” he repeated. Leaning in on his desk, his eyes were barreling into hers so she was forced to stare back without blinking.
“Yes,” she replied, though it was clear she was flustered by his sudden mood.
“Let’s get the truth straight, Leslie Ann. What’s your real name?”
“Why Leslie Ann Warhol,” she said surprised he’d asked.
“What’s your name? The real one.”
She stopped short of repeating herself, bit her lip and fidgeted with her handkerchief.
“Cut the crap, lady, and tell me,” Adam ordered.
“Eden Rose,” she blurted out.
Adam leaned back and sighed heavily. “Good, very good. Now let’s see if we can continue with the truth. Are you serious about a restraining order against Jacob Coltrain?”
“Yes, yes I am. I haven’t lied to you about that, or anything I said about him.”
“You’re absolutely sure?”
“Yes, Mr. Cady, I’m sure. I can’t take it anymore. I swear. I can’t.”
“Okay then. Why did you lie about your name?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Well go ahead and tell me, you have me for the rest of the hour.”
“But I don’t know where to start.”
“How about with the business arrangements you’ve made with him.”
“You know about that?”
“Just tell me the truth.”
“Jacob’s my manager. He has been for four years. I’ve had several songs sell, sell very well, and Jacob arranged that …. “His Light’s In The Dark”, “Sad Songs” …”
Adam had heard of them and was impressed.
“So you have a business arrangement with him. You want that to end?”
“I want everything to end with him,” she replied, so he was quite convinced by the sound of her voice.
“How long is your contract for?” he asked.
“Three more years.”
“I think you’d better let me see it, and every legal piece of paper you have regarding the two of you.”
She shook her head, looking slightly embarrassed. “I’m ashamed to admit, Mr. Cady, I don’t really know where to find them. Jacob always took care of those things. I suppose somewhere in my apartment …” Her voice trailed off.
“Then you’d damn well better go home and find them, hadn’t you?” His voice rose enough to startle her—again.
“If they’re really that necessary, I suppose …”
“Yes, they’re necessary if you want me to represent you. You say he’s harassed you. You led me to believe this was a physical kind of thing. That your life might even be in danger. Or have I just jumped to conclusions and you’re just an artist that wants out of a bad deal.”
�
��No, no no, that’s not it at all. We’ve been lovers too. And that’s the point. The love’s gone badly sour. I don’t want any of it. I don’t want anything to do with Jacob Coltrain.” She was shaking her head and beginning to sob.
“Stop crying!” Adam barked, annoyed.
She looked up surprised.
“You’ve been playing me since your first visit. You’ve got a damned good game here, but it’s over now. You’re going to be straight with me and you’re going to stop the theatrics and the sniveling and putting on a dozen roles. You’re going to be Eden Rose, whoever she is, and you’re going to tell the truth or you’re out on your ear.”
“Yes, sir,” she replied, less meek than before, but with enough voice to please him.
“You find those contracts.”
“Now?”
“Yes, now. How far is it to your apartment, twenty minutes?”
“You mean come back right away?”
“I have one client coming in after you, then I’m free for the afternoon. You find what I want and be back here by four.” He looked at his watch and then stared back at her.
“What if I can’t?”
“That’s not an option, Eden,” he replied, clipped and succinct. He pulled a file from a drawer to his right and began reading from it, communicating that the rest of their meeting would wait until she returned.
Eden Rose left with her heart beating a thousand times faster than when she walked in the door. Her crotch was on fire. Underneath her long skirt, she was naked and her pubis rubbed against itself, so she wondered if there might be an orgasm just moments away. The chill in her bones made her speechless as she took one last glance back at the man’s unerring composure. He didn’t even bother staring up at her when he must have known she was looking at him. Slipping out the door, she hastily made her way back to her apartment.
***
Eden returned to Adam Cady’s office at three forty-five. She’d put her hands on the requested documents minutes after arriving at her apartment. With the time left over, she looked at herself in the mirror in her bedroom and started to cry. Yet hearing Adam’s voice in the back of her mind with a sharp reprimand, she stopped. How pale she looked, a little like death. It suited her mood, morose and contemplative. She could feel a song rising from this, the agitation in her belly was a distinct sign. She could spend some moments at the piano and begin. But she had the feeling that things were gearing up for a long evening before the keyboard in that safe place where the rest of her life didn’t matter, where she could lose herself in the one thing she did really well. It was much harder looking in the mirror than writing songs, because the mirror didn’t lie about who she was behind the hype of her attire. Jacob thought the look was appropriate given the songs that she wrote, but she was so tired of Jacob and his opinions. She couldn’t find the magic with him anymore, just in that one small place and she told herself she wasn’t going to go there with him again—even if she loved the physical results. It wasn’t worth it when she was so miserable every other minute of the day. She’d rather spend her life with Miss Angel as have another night in Jacob’s captivity.
And Cady … if only there were men like him to conquer her, she might redeem the rest of her life. Hell, he was probably married, there were those pictures on his desk. The blonde woman with all that sweepy gorgeous hair and the beauty queen smile.
Eden fluffed at her spiky white hair, thinking it was time to color it again, the dark roots were showing too much. She’d been so depressed lately, it was hard to think about looking good. Then again, she had looked pretty good for the lawyer, in these tight fitting clothes. Men always liked that and she could tell he noticed.
Ah, but who was she kidding? He had to be married.
***
“Humm, I guess that didn’t take so long,” Adam observed as Eden walked into his office with a packet of papers in her hand.
“I hope this is what you need,” she said, tossing them on his desk.
“Is it?”
“I guess so.”
He looked annoyed. “Listen, Eden, you’re not some dumb broad. I don’t like that act, and I’m not going to put up with it. You knew exactly what I needed and where to find it. Don’t play me like that again. It’s getting repetitive and frankly, it pisses me off.”
“Okay,” she said straight and simple. “I guess I do that sometimes.”
“Often, I’d say. But never again with me.”
She nodded, still feeling meek and sheepish, but for real reasons now. The attorney was certainly capable of getting inside where the hot spots were, where she shivered and her cunt got wet and her limbs began to ache.
Adam sat at his desk reviewing the documents in the package, doing a quick overview of the contracts she’d signed with Jacob Coltrain.
“I’ll have to take a really good look at what’s here. But I think we can work around them. Jacob had these drawn up?”
“Yes.”
“And you just signed?”
“It was just a formality.”
“And why’s that. You don’t take this seriously?”
“We were lovers, Mr. Cady. At the time I never thought it would be any different.”
“I see.” He looked down at the papers again. “Why don’t you go home and write your music and I’ll call you in a day or two.”
“Thank you.”
Eden smiled, sweet and seductive, though to Adam, this smile seemed more genuine than all the others had been. It was hard to set aside the desire to be brutal with her … and then as tender as rose petals falling onto the grass.
chapter three
Jacob stared in the window at Eden Rose from the patio outside her back door. Her apartment was easily accessible from the street, up the fire escape.
Midnight, Eden was at the piano playing music, looking melancholy. A bottle of scotch sat on the edge of the baby grand, a shot glass beside it. One hand played a melody while the other held her head in her hand. She hummed as she played, words beginning to trip through her brain, but not yet put on paper. She was strangely methodical in her manner of writing music, though it was a method only she understood. It didn’t matter that anyone else did, only that she was getting attention in the music world for what inspired her.
When Jacob slipped into the room through the unlocked door, Eden was so immersed in her work that she didn’t hear the silent footfalls of his approach. Not until he was at her back and she jumped feeling his hands clutching her shoulders did she realize the intruder was there.
“Jacob, no!” she shrieked, but then his hand was over her mouth. She tried to bite his fingers, but he slapped her face and then clamped his hand back over her lips with a bone-crushing tightness.
“Don’t say a word,” he whispered. “Not one word.” To ensure her obedience, he pulled a ball-gag from his pocket and opening her mouth with his fingers pressed it inside. The strap was fixed behind her head. She was at his mercy.
He extinguished the single lamp in the room as he dragged her from the piano bench, her arms flailing as she tried to pull away. But with his large hands and strong grip, the fight was useless. Stripping her of her robe, it was easy work to have her wrists bound behind her. Jacob knew where to find the leather straps and harness, the playthings that would raise her body heat. Pushing her toward her bedroom, he chuckled knowing he had her won. She wasn’t resisting at all. Eden was so easy.
“You think you can get away from me, bitch,” he chortled in her ear as he undid the wrist cuffs from behind and then fastened them to the rod swinging over head. “You are so naïve and foolish.”
He slapped her ass with his hand, then buckled the collar around her neck tightly so she could feel the constriction in her throat. She had to gasp for air.
“Relax, slut, you’ve got a long and welcome night. That femme uptown doesn’t hold a candle to me. Why she didn’t even leave marks.”
Eden was sinking into him, intoxicated by words. Dizzy from the constraints, she let
the surging in her abdomen turn erotic, her hips undulating against his hand.
“That’s it,” he purred. Pressing his palm over her pubis, he held it tightly in his fist and pulled down. She squirmed and cried with the shot of pain. Fingers in her vagina teased the syrupy concoction of sweat and juice.
A clamp came down on one nipple and the pain sparked. She jerked and he slapped her face. A second clamp on the second nipple, more pain, another jerk and slap. Preordained, ritualized, but yes, very welcome. She didn’t want to tolerate the abuse but the jolts were too severe for her sex to ignore. The wild rush was as sweet as words of love, and she let her head fall back as he began with the whip and crop, one in each hand. She was traveling light-years in seconds, joyriding through a wave of delicious heat and pain. It was exhilarating pain turning her insides out as he turned her outsides into raw, scorched flesh.
The multi-taloned leather whip flailed on her breasts and belly, sensation streaming like ocean swells crashing as breakers on hard sand. The crop cut. He was erratic and sporadic, mocking her as he stalked her quivering body, going eye to eye with her so she could see the vile expression of triumph on his face. The laughter, the scorn, the jubilance of his sadistic mien shot right through her. When she closed her eyes, he slapped her face.
“Don’t do that again. You’ll see me, bitch, and remember who I am. How I’m the champion of your greatest cause—this perpetual sex machine. He gripped her cunt and shook it hard, then fixed a clamp over her clit so she screamed a muffled scream into the gag.
From behind, he let the whip fly fast and hard, not a second between the strikes. On her back, then to her ass, so they were heated and hot. Then the crop again, that horrifying one with the thin end and the little tied tail that bit viciously into roughed-up skin. She’d feel a trickle of blood down her thigh before he finished. A terrifying reason to rejoice.
She was losing it by the time he burnished her thighs and lay into that tenderness creating another horror. Her mind simply vanished and there was nothing but pain, and then nothingness, and then nothing at all … she’d disappeared without a trace … gone … flown away and lost forever.
Adam & Eden Page 2