Second Chances

By Marie Everett

Love. Betrayal. Revenge. When love turns on you, it’s nice to know you have friends, especially if they’re the mafia.

Melissa Michaels. Honest, loving, successful author. Fooled by her husband for over 7 years. He betrays her... in the worst possible way.

Dr. Robert Richmond. A distinguished and well-known plastic surgeon. His wife is incredibly rich and doesn’t realize he married her for her money. His sadistic treachery of her was the highlight of his life.

Callie Hinshaw. A woman living two lives and hiding a secret. She meets the psychopath from hell, but will she live to regret it?

Dan White. In the right place at the right time, a fluke bullet changes the US Marshal’s life. When the retired eye-candy meets the possible love of his life, he discovers that life can be frustratingly fun because Murphy’s Law goes berserk every time they get together.

Jersey Canyon. A tiny town of incredibly quirky characters living by their own rules while protecting unusual secrets. Can they handle the Russian mafia descending on them?

A new life...a new beginning...a new love. What can possibly go wrong?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Marie Everett
• Release date: Aug 2, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476207063

Marie Everett

Lives in Washington, north of Seattle.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

...never wanted to marry you...no choice...your money will be mine...time for you to go...

Melissa woke up with a slight jerk, the words from the dream slowly fading from her mind. She felt paralyzed as she stared up at the ceiling. As her focus sharpened, she could see the wires that led from IV bags down to her right arm. Label names of ‘saline’ and ‘morphine’ were clearly visible on the liquid-filled bags. She wondered what had happened to her.

...drug you...tired of you...

Thoughts flashed in her mind before quickly disappearing. Maybe more of the dream? Her mind swam as she searched her memory. She remembered driving to the store and returning home to fix dinner for Robert. He was sick…but then…maybe she got sick?

Why can’t I remember? she mumbled.

She became aware of a heaviness in her left arm and carefully turned her head. A cast extended from her shoulder all the way to her fingers. What the hell? An accident? Was there an accident? Memories flashed in her mind.

Dinner with Robert…feeling tired…Robert injecting me…I’m paralyzed…scared…Robert punching me…someone whipping me...I’m caged...

Whoa! What the hell? Her mind started to clear and she panted heavily while more fragments of tortured dreams flashed in front of her eyes. She shuddered. God, wake up already! Those images were nightmares, not dreams. Wake up!

She sat up carefully and looked around. She was in an attractive and modestly furnished bedroom. Straining to listen, she couldn’t hear any noise. Was she alone? She carefully wiggled the fingers of her casted hand as she peeled back the tape holding the IV needle in place. As she gingerly withdrew the needle from her skin, liquid began seeping from the syringe, so she reached up and turned off the switch to each bag.

Climbing out of bed, she felt goosebumps rise on her flesh and looked down. She was naked. No clothes? Not even one of those stupid robe-like things that hospitals gave out? They never really covered anything, but it was still some kind of covering.

Yanking a sheet off the bed, she fashioned it around her as best she could, adequately pleased at the toga she created, before shuffling across the plush carpet to the door. The sage carpet was soft and warm around her bare feet. Jeez, she was weak and her entire body ached, but she had to find out what was happening.

Poking her head out the door, she looked around the quiet hallway. She was in a room in the middle of the hall. The plush carpet in the bedroom extended to the hallway, complimenting the mint walls. Light sconces were spaced evenly along the walls. An oak hutch with a glass facade was positioned against the end. She was in a house, not a hospital. But...where?

...friend of mine...coming...take you somewhere...

She shook off the thought as she opened every door and carefully peered inside each room. The master bedroom was located at the end of the hallway. Three other doors opened into bedrooms and a fourth door led to a separate bathroom. The entire house suggested the absence of life, but she’d have to check to be sure. Well, she’d try, but her legs were already shaking and her body was wavering.

She moved slowly to the end of the hall and looked in dismay at the stairs. Sweet Jesus, there were a lot of them! Sitting on the top step, she scooted down each tread.

Ow, ow, ow! Her butt felt bruised and raw. Did she even have any skin left on her ass?

When she finally reached the bottom of the staircase, she was breathing heavily through her mouth and perspiring profusely. No, that wasn’t right. Her mother had always insisted ladies didn’t sweat, they glowed. Gosh, Mom sure told some whoppers, she thought. My ass is on fire and the rest of me is glowing like a neon sign on steroids.

She managed to catch her breath enough to stand. The noise she’d been making coming down the stairs and just trying to breathe surely would have attracted attention. The house must be empty and she found herself thankful for that small blessing.

She wandered through the lower level, taking her time in the den to regain some strength. She absently perused the stuffed bookshelves, stopping in shock when she saw the entire collection of her own books. Her mind struggled to accept if this experience was a fluke or if she had been a deliberate target for someone.

She left the den, found the kitchen, and looked around. Tottering on shaky legs, she edged over to the counter and stared. She’d have to be stupid not to take one. Reaching out, she grabbed a chef’s knife from the block on the counter.

If anybody wants a piece of me, she thought as she weakly brandished the knife, I’ll do my damndest to get a piece of them first.

Another door down the hall caught her eye. She was armed and felt brave enough to check it out. As she walked to the door, her blood rushed furiously through her body. Her heart started to pound heavily in her chest and she began panting. She didn’t like the door and didn’t want to go near it, but she didn’t know why. It felt wrong. It felt evil. Evil was in that room. Oh, for Pete’s sake, just check it out.

Locked. The only room she still had to check and the door was locked. To keep something in? Or to keep someone out? She hesitated and tightly grasped the knife as she stared at the door, wondering if she really wanted to see what was on the other side.

Straightening her back, she worked the knife into the door jamb. If anyone came out, she’d use the knife and consider apologizing later.

She jimmied the lock. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped inside the room. Her eyes grew wide and her chest started heaving. Whips, quirts, crops, harnesses, ropes, and chains hung neatly on two walls. Leather face masks, blindfolds, ball gags, canes, and paddles occupied their own space with a large collection of handcuffs, plastic ties, and velcro straps. Near the middle of the room, a sling chair was suspended from the ceiling.

She looked at the examination table in the middle of the room. Her knife wobbled in her hand as she inspected the straps, handcuffs and other restraints attached to the table. Mindlessly opening a drawer in the cabinet next to her, she gagged. It contained the largest and oddest assortment of erotic paraphernalia she had ever laid eyes on.

Her gaze landed on a small cage in the corner. An involuntary whimper escaped her throat followed by a shudder that travelled the length of her body.

The images that had flashed in her mind weren’t nightmares. And they sure as hell weren’t dreams! She had been tortured in this room!

Robert was responsible for this! Wait, just wait a minute. Robert set this in motion, but he hadn’t done those…things…to her. Him! It was him. And another man as well, but he was the main culprit.

Bastards! But she had the upper hand now. She was armed and ready for...what? She didn’t know and, by the looks of this room, she really didn’t want to know.

She forced herself to remember that Robert had set all of this in motion. He was ultimately responsible.

She backed carefully out of the room and closed the door. Turning to the kitchen, she raced for the sink, hoping she’d make it in time before her roiling stomach betrayed her all over the floor. As she threw up in the sink, her mind whirled as plans began to form and solidify in her brain. She wanted vengeance and she knew just how to get it. Her hand tightened around the knife as she cleaned her face before returning to the den and the phone sitting so innocently on the desk.

Carefully holding her weapon, Melissa moved the leather chair out from under the desk and sat down. Pulling the phone closer, she dialed a number and closed her eyes. Hurt and anger were fighting for equal space in her mind although, to be honest with herself, she had to admit she had refused to listen to the warnings about Robert. How had her life spiraled down so far that she was placing the one call she never expected to make?

She jolted back to the moment and cleared her throat as her call was answered.

Yes?

It’s Melissa. Her voice cracked as she held back a sob. I need help.

Matt drove back to Jeff’s house, grabbed his briefcase from the passenger seat, and stretched when he got out of his sister’s Honda CR-Z. His long legs didn’t have enough room and he was convinced his knees were in his ears.

He was too tall for a Honda. His only saving grace was that he had a lean body and could contort it when he had no other choice. He had loaned his truck to his sister while she helped a friend move. But, darn it, her car was just too small for him and he hoped she’d return his truck soon.

He threw the car keys and his briefcase on the foyer table, then ran upstairs. He’d check on Melissa, inhale a sandwich or two, and catch up on neglected work.

He peeked into her room and walked back down the hallway. As he took the first step down, he paused, frowned, and retraced his steps to Melissa’s room. He was so used to seeing her on the bed, it took a moment for him to realize the covers were bunched up and the bed was empty. The bathroom door was standing wide open. She wasn’t in the room.

He checked the entire upstairs, but she wasn’t anywhere to be found. He decided to check the rest of the house before calling Jeff. Descending the stairs, he wondered how long she’d been awake. The kitchen, living room, and den were vacant. He stepped through the doorway of the dining room and swept a quick gaze around the room. Where the hell did she go?

He pulled out his cell phone to call Jeff.

Put the phone on the table and take a step back. The voice was eerily soft. Do it now.

He jumped and turned slowly, peering into the dark corner of the dining room. He saw a vague outline of a woman in a chair, watching him. As he stared at her, she slowly raised her arm and a glint from a knife blade caught his eye.

I said put it on the table and take one step back. Her voice wasn’t soft now. Instead, it was forceful and threatening.

Matt paused, then leaned forward, placed his phone on the table and stepped back. It’s all right, Melissa. You’re safe now.

Slide your hands and arms inside your jeans.

Okay, but this isn’t necessary. You’re safe. No one’s going to hurt you anymore. He worked his hands into the waistband of his jeans and straightened his elbows to slide his arms down his legs.

Walk straight across to the window in the corner, face the table, and kneel.

He sighed and did as she requested, grunting as his knees hit the floor.

Cross your ankles and lay down on your stomach.

Can I take my hands out first?

No.

Okay, give me a second. Matt sighed again. He was sure he deserved this.

When he was stretched out on the floor, Melissa moved slowly around the far side of the table toward him. She studied him, seeing a strong-featured face with thin lips quirked at the corners in a perpetual smile. An angular nose jutted above the smile and his light brown eyes seemed to twinkle. His shoulder-length hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Her eyes saw a pleasant and good-looking man, but her mind recognized him as the second man in her nightmares.

Is anyone else here? She tightened her grip on the knife.

No, just you and me. Jeff’s getting supplies in town. I’m Matt Tilleran, by the way.

Put your head down and keep your face in the carpet.

She looked out the window. Nothing suspicious jumped out at her. She looked at the doorway and out into the hall. All clear. Carefully holding the knife, she took his phone from the table and tucked it into the sheet covering her breasts. She edged toward Matt, straddled his legs, and sat down on his butt.

Raise your head and look in the mirror.

He propped his chin on the carpet and saw the mirror leaning against the table leg. He wondered when she had moved it. And how had she even lifted it? Her wrist, arm, and shoulder must be killing her! He focused on the image in the mirror. Oh, hell! She was dangling that huge knife over him!

Do you see this? She kept the knife aloft and poised over his spine.

Yes, I see it. His muscles tightened as he imagined what she might be planning to do.

She slowly lowered her arm and pressed the knife point sharply through his shirt, pricking his skin and drawing blood. Do you feel this?

He drew a strained breath. Yes.

You try to disarm me, or throw me off you, or play any tricks, or anybody comes through that door at me, and I’m going to shove this right through your spine.

I believe you. He didn’t doubt her. Her voice was quiet and controlled. Maybe too controlled. He wasn’t going to push her buttons just to make her prove herself. No, sirree! He definitely didn’t want her shoving that knife in him.

He watched her. She glanced at the mirror, then took a quick look at the doorway. He looked at the mirror again, realizing she had positioned it so that she could see outside the window without turning her head. He approved of her tactics but it wasn’t necessary. Unfortunately, she didn’t believe that and he couldn’t blame her.

He thought about the predicament he was in and would have laughed if he didn’t fear Melissa would take exception. So much for having lunch and working. Those plans were now in the wind.

Moving that mirror must have hurt. Are you okay?

No response.

No one’s going to hurt you anymore, Melissa. You’re safe, I promise.

Again, no response.

So...I take it we’re going to be here for a bit. I can call Jeff, see if he can get here quicker. He can explain everything to you. Well, he can explain what initially happened and what we’ve managed to figure out so far.

Melissa listened without appearing to pay any attention or feeling inclined to respond.

For instance, we know your husband lied to Jeff about you.

She glanced out the doorway. Still clear.

We have a personal friend who’s a doctor. Since she’s aware of our lifestyle, we called and asked her to check you out. She’s the one who put the cast on your arm. Two of your fingers were broken. So was your wrist. Your shoulder had been dislocated and she put it back in place. Have to admit, we were all glad you were out of it while she was doing that part.

Melissa briefly looked at him through the mirror, then further up to see outside.

Can I move my arms out of my pants now? He felt the knife press in sharply, then it was removed as she lifted herself slightly off his butt.

Go ahead.

He rolled slightly, raising one shoulder at a time, and eased his arms out. Bending them, he laced his fingers together and pushed his arms out in front of him, cracking his knuckles.

Thank you. Can I keep them bent and my shoulders off the ground?

She sat back down without a word, but pressed the knife in again. He took that as an okay and dropped his head to ease some strain from his neck.

I understand why you’re doing this, Melissa, but I really do promise that you’re safe.

Matt’s phone rang against Melissa’s chest. She didn’t move.

That might be Jeff, checking in to see if there’s anything else we need before he leaves the store.

She looked at him, then pulled the phone out of the sheet. She glanced quickly at the little window on the phone, then passed it to Matt. Put it on speaker.

He flipped the phone open and hit the speaker button.

Hey, Jeff.

I thought I’d check in before I leave. Everything okay?

Uh, sure.

Do we need anything else from the store?

No.

You sound weird. What’s up?

Matt looked at Melissa, who shrugged her shoulder. "Um, who’s up would be a better question."

What are…you mean Melissa? Is she awake?

Definitely awake. Somewhat up and moving around.

That’s great! She must be feeling better. Can you keep her calm until I get there?

Oh, she’s pretty calm.

Is she asking questions yet?

No, no questions. She’s very quiet.

I’ll be there as fast as I can.

Okay. By the way, we’re in the dining room.

What? Why are you in there?

Because she was in here when I walked in.

Well, put her back to bed. She must be really weak.

No. No, I’m not going to do that.

Why not?

Because I’m face down on the floor and she’s sitting on my butt with a knife shoved into my spine.

Crap.

Good assessment.

I’m on my way, Jeff promised.

Just come in easy, buddy. The damn knife hurts. I don’t want to be skewered into your floor.

CHAPTER 2

Jeff drove home as fast as he dared. It was only November, but the roads were already covered with snow and ice. He didn’t want to risk an accident or a ticket by speeding, but shit! He hadn’t expected Melissa to wake up this soon.

His brows pulled together in a slight frown as his eyes narrowed and darkened. His jaws tightened as he gritted his teeth. He ran one hand through his black hair, furious with himself that he wasn’t there for Melissa when she woke up. The doctor said her body was healing, but no one knew what was happening in her head. She had to be scared to death.

She had come around on her own and she was alert. The time she had spent in bed had apparently not affected her muscles so physical therapy wouldn’t be needed.

The good news was that she was awake, alert, and mobile. The bad news was that she was armed. The really bad news was that she probably didn’t know why she was there. The really, really bad news was that she more than likely remembered everything that had been done to her during her bouts of consciousness.

She’d had enough time to wake up and get pissed. She was alert enough to know she should be pissed and mobile enough to get a knife while she was pissed. Matt had unknowingly walked in on a naked, armed, pissed off woman in a strange house with men she didn’t know, but with the memory of what they had done to her. Oh, this was bad on so many levels, he thought as he rubbed his forehead.

He turned into his driveway and parked in the garage. Time to face the music. Leaving the groceries in the car, he was deliberately loud as he entered the house. He walked cautiously into the dining room.

He saw Matt stretched out on the floor with Melissa perched on his butt, pressing a big-ass knife into his back. She wasn’t messing around either. Blood spotted Matt’s shirt and he was grimacing from the pain.

Melissa was staring at him and a snarl appeared on her face. Her dreams and nightmares were still vague, but she recognized him as the primary man who had done...she tossed her head to empty it of the visions that threatened to take over. She used the knife to gesture at a chair, silently ordering Jeff to sit. He pulled the chair away from the table and sat down. He kept his hands in plain sight on the table. He waited for her to speak, but she didn’t say anything, so he took the initiative.

Matt, are you okay? he asked first.

Yeah, I think so.

Jeff focused on Melissa. I’m Jeff Monroe. My friend is Matt Tilleran. Your husband called me almost two months ago to arrange this. From the start, I think he did nothing but lie to me about you. But I promise you’re safe now.

Melissa curled her lip.

Jeff took a deep breath and nodded his understanding of her reaction. Exhaling slowly, he began to explain Robert’s plans for her in addition to the details of her stay.

**********

Robert had called Jeff, telling him mutual friends had suggested the contact. Did Jeff have time to meet him for coffee somewhere?

Jeff’s curiosity was piqued and the two men arranged to meet at a coffee shop. Robert needed help and learned that Jeff had gained a reputation in certain circles as being able to modify behavior. Robert explained he was having problems with his wife. She had started behaving oddly after being fired, forcing him to take out a second mortgage on the house. She lost her job for stealing and her employer was going to press charges. She had also started to drink heavily and physically fight with him.

Robert said he was at his wits’ end trying to figure out what had happened to bring about this radical change in his wife. What would it take for Jeff to work on her issues?

Jeff explained that he was a Master Trainer in BDSM or bondage, discipline, sadism, and masochism. He mainly trained submissives and/or slaves for Masters and Mistresses. The subs/slaves were generally sent to him either when they were first entering a contract with their owner or when they were misbehaving.

He watched Robert carefully to make sure he understood the restrained violence involved and all the tools that would be used. Did Robert think his wife would be able to handle it?

Robert was quiet as he appeared to digest the information Jeff relayed. He made his decision and hired Jeff to do whatever was necessary to bring Melissa back to her old self. They agreed Robert would call when the time was right and Jeff would go to their house and get her.

Robert called him in a panic two months later, requesting urgent help. Jeff immediately drove to the Richmond house.

Jeff. Thank you for coming so quickly. Robert sobbed as he opened the door, but quickly broke it off. She’s out of control.

What happened, Dr. Richmond?

She was acting odd when she came home from shopping. Then she left for a bit. When she came back, she was…I think she took a drug, but I don’t know…

Where is she now?

In the living room. She was…I had to…oh, God, Jeff! I hit her! I actually punched my wife! She was just so out of it and I lost control of myself.

Let me see her. Come on, pull yourself together.

Jeff was led into the dining room where he checked Melissa, who was unconscious on the floor. Well, you definitely put her out, but I think she’ll be okay. At least she’ll be easier to move this way.

Keep her for at least a month. Do you think that’s long enough?

A month? Are you serious? It won’t take nearly that long.

Please. I want...I want to make sure she’s totally back with me. Please, Jeff. I just…please! Help me! Take the month and make sure.

Jeff hadn’t expected the lengthy time period, but Robert was paying him a lot of money for this.

Okay, I’ll keep her for a month. You don’t want any contact with her while she’s gone?

No. No. I want…not until she’s ready to come back. A month. I’ll talk with her in a month.

Then I’d better get started. Jeff started to bend down, then straightened. What’s her name?

Melissa.

Okay. Jeff bent and lifted Melissa’s limp body in his arms. Get the door for me. Everything will work out and you’ll see her in a month.

Thank you so much, Jeff.

Jeff had left the Richmond house with his unconscious cargo, thinking about the timeline Robert gave him. He really hadn’t planned on having her for a whole month. He chewed on his lower lip and tapped his fingers on the wheel as he drove. He might need to ask Matt, his partner, to help with this one.

When he arrived at his house, he drove straight into the garage and closed the door behind him. Only when it was closed did he get out of the car. He stretched and checked on Melissa. She was breathing heavily, but still unconscious. He left her there and entered the house through the side door to prepare her room.

As Melissa slowly became conscious, Jeff began working on her. Unable to get any verbal or physical response from her, he called Matt to take over. Matt worked on her for a little while before realizing her lack of response, originally believed by both men to be sullenness and resistance, was actually the result of something different. The men stopped their work and moved to another part of the room to confer about the lack of reaction to painful stimuli. The new location changed the lighting reflecting Melissa’s body and showcased bruises they had not caused. Jeff immediately called a doctor, explained the situation, and requested a house visit.

The doctor conducted a thorough examination and found broken fingers, a broken wrist, and a dislocated shoulder. Robert’s punch left her face bruised, but no bones were broken. The exam revealed the injection site on her arm and the doctor immediately took a blood sample. Very suspicious at this point, she concentrated on examining hidden body parts, finding a time-release patch and removing it for testing. She splinted Melissa's fingers and wrist, set her shoulder in place, and put on the cast. She hooked up the saline and morphine IVs, then checked on her daily.

While waiting for the test results, Jeff called Robert’s cell phone, but he didn’t get an answer. He called the house and talked to Amy, the maid, who told him Robert was out of the country. He’d be back in time for a meeting, then gone again. In the meantime, Amy had been instructed to pack up the furniture and store everything since the house was being sold. With no particular reason in mind, Jeff asked to speak to Melissa, but Amy told him she was out of town for an indefinite length of time.

By this time, the results of the blood work and patch had been received. The blood work did not reveal any drugs as they had already dissipated. The patch had been identified as a dangerously high dosage of time-released Ketamine.

The doctor was furious, raving that no self-respecting, ethical doctor would ever put such medication on a patient without constant supervision. Removing the patch ensured no additional drugs would be released into Melissa’s system, but she advised both men to monitor her carefully and call her if they were concerned in any way.

Matt asked about the patch. The doctor shook her head in disgust as she explained that it would keep a person slightly paralyzed with no means of communication, but with total awareness of their surroundings and acute fear regarding their sudden inability to move or talk. It should never be used without health care professionals constantly monitoring the patient.

**********

Jeff looked at Matt when he finished his story. Did I leave anything out?

No, I think that was everything.

They both fell silent as they waited for Melissa’s reaction.

She sat quietly on Matt’s butt for a long time. Then she spoke. That had the ring of truth to it. So did Matt’s story. But I have some questions.

Moving carefully, she stood up and stepped toward the table. She sat down opposite Jeff, keeping the knife in her hand.

May I get up now? Matt asked.

Yes. But keep your distance.

No worries there.

He was stiff from lying on the floor and it took him a few minutes to raise himself off the ground, groaning all the way up.

I’ve got to take care of my back, go to the bathroom, and get coffee. I’ll be back shortly. He left the room while Jeff eyed Melissa.

She curled her lip at him again. Truth or not, I don’t like you or what you did. But I can sort of understand. I’m keeping the knife, so don’t do anything stupid because I’m still mad enough to use it.

They both sat without speaking while waiting for Matt to return. Jeff kept his hands on the table and Melissa kept a tight grip on the knife.