House of Elliott Ii: Revenge Is Hers

By Mirthell Bayliss Bazemore

After a year of being locked away in Clarices cold dark cellar to rot, Cathy was given a second chance at life.
While barely escaping death for the second time, and while recuperating in the hospital, her executioner takes pity on her and convinces her to change her identity and relocate.
Cathy takes his advice and changes her identity and name to Lucille (Lucy) Montgomery. But her obsession for revenge against Clarice and Frances, causes her to be back in a worse predicament than she was before.
Fight or flight, she is determined to avenge herself.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Feb 21, 2013
• ISBN: 9781481716291

Mirthell Bayliss Bazemore

Mirthell Bayliss Bazemore was born June 19th, 1964 in Oakland, California. After graduating from Castlemont High School, she immediately began her career in banking while attending Heald Business College. Goal oriented and proud of her family heritage as entrepreneurs, Mirthell is no stranger to hard work. Nurturing an extraordinary gift and love of writing, Mirthell launched her career by publishing her fictional novels in 2006. Since 2008, and as an affiliate of AuthorHouse Publishing, she published over ten novels, which two are charitable books donated to Oakland Children’s Hospital Foundations and the Gwinnett Children’s Shelter in Buford, Georgia. Mirthell has been helping and encouraging others to embrace their creativity, even providing a nationwide network and marketing platform to assist other authors and writers. In October 1988, Mirthell was baptized in the name of Jesus Christ by the late Bishop L. Hunter, and later filled with the gift of the Holy Ghost. Mirthell has continued her spiritual journey under the leadership of Bishop Joe C. Tisdale. In addition to helping others, her greatest joy is serving God while keeping others encouraged and making a difference…one book at a time. “To God be the Glory”

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© 2013 by Mirthell Bayliss Bazemore. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 02/08/2013

ISBN: 978-1-4817-1628-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4817-1629-1 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013902542

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Acknowledgments

About the Story

About the Author

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

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Epilogue

"Just because her eyes don’t tear, doesn’t mean

her heart doesn’t cry. Just because she doesn’t come

off strong, doesn’t mean there’s nothing wrong.

LET THE FLAMES BEGIN!

House of Elliott II

Vengeance Is Hers

This book is dedicated to my dearest friend,

confidant and sounding board for over forty years

~Sonya Marie~

Always my sister, forever my friend

In Memory Of

Virginia Green

~Always in our heart~

SKU-000627146_TEXT.pdf

Acknowledgments

A special thanks to my husband Lionel M. Bazemore; for being my rock, friend and most of all

believing in me.

Sandie Lynell Bazemore for being the

best daughter ever and keeping me encouraged.

Thank you Jeanine Nicholas, for your support,

words of wisdom and editing skills.

You are truly appreciated and cherished.

Thank you, Louisa Seever, for your support,

and listening to my stories. You are a dear and

sweet friend.

&

To all my readers, whom have enjoyed my stories… This is for you!

About the Story

After a year of being locked away in

Clarice’s cold dark cellar to rot, Cathy was

given a second chance at life.

While barely escaping death for the

second time, and while recuperating in the hospital,

her executioner takes pity on her and convinces her

to change her identity and relocate.

Cathy takes his advice and changes her

identity and name to Lucille (Lucy) Montgomery.

But her obsession for revenge against Clarice and

Frances Elliott, causes her to be in a worse predicament than she was before. As she

wrestles with her inner demons, her feelings

for Frances are awakened.

About the Author

MIRTHELL BAYLISS-BAZEMORE

I am a former telecommunication employee

and currently work for a financial institution in

sales and operations. I am a wife of twenty nine years and mother of one beautiful daughter and reside

in Northern California.

Since my early childhood, I dreamed of writing stories that readers would fall in love with. After many years had passed, my husband had encouraged me to start writing. With his love and support,

I put the pen to the paper and began to write.

I had always been inspired to write about beautiful, powerful, yet wicked woman. Growing up in the late 60’s and early 70’s, I enjoyed watching my two favorite actresses, Betty Davis and Joan Crawford. I was also intrigued by Frances Ford Coppola and Alfred Hitchcock movies.

CHAPTER ONE

I ’m starting to regain my strength, and each day I feel a little stronger than the day before. Not sure if my speedy recovery is due to my confrontation with Clarice or because finally, I get to have the love of my life—Frances. For the last twelve months, all I thought about was my beloved Frances. I held on because I knew one day he would save me, and he did. Like the knight in shining armor, he would come to my rescue. While locked away in Clarice’s dungeon, I read the diaries that belonged to her. Memoires, of her child and teen hood years, up to the time she reached adulthood. No one could possibly know her as well as I know her. I’ve had a year to study this woman… her fears, pain, sufferings, triumph and her wicked deeds. Now, I’m here in the hospital recuperating from the pain and suffering she afflicted on me. Even though my life had been in peril, I feel triumphant, and ready to celebrate because the doctor will be releasing me soon. I’m looking forward to be united in holy matrimony with the only man I truly ever loved—Frances. Not sure how I will fit into his new aristocratic life, but it will certainly feel good to try to fit in. In just a few weeks, I will be—Mrs. Cathy St. Claire Elliott!

Our wedding will be grand and long time coming. My dress will be elegant, white and covered with lace. I will be a perfect virtuous bride, walking down the aisles at the House of Elliott. I wonder who will give me away? Now that Carlton is dead. I can’t believe my twin brother is gone. I suppose the thought of me being presumed dead, was too much for him to bear.

Restless, from the excitement of being free from the dark creepy cellar and regaining my strength makes it hard for me to sleep. On this particular night, I was feeling a bit anxious. I suppose it was due to talking to Clarice the way I did, and getting that off my chest. Knowing I will be leaving with Frances tomorrow has me feeling restless. But I must admit, it felt good to stand up to her. Clearly, she wasn’t use to anyone challenging her the way I did. Hopefully, she will comply with my demands. If not, I will still have Alex; I mean Frances. I have to get use to calling him Frances, even though he will always be Alex to me.

Though each day I’m feeling better and stronger, my doctor stated that he wanted me to walk around the hospital floor. I have found that walking at night when the hospital is quiet is better for me. The other patients are quiet and tucked away in their beds, there is less traffic from family members and there are just a couple of nurses on the floor. The nightshift nurses are always busy writing up reports and checking on patient’s to see if they are sleeping okay. But this particular night, I could not sleep and decided to take my walk around the 8th floor, which is where my room is located.

These hospital gowns are so awkward with an opening in the back almost revealing my backside, yet I manage. One hand holding my I.V pole, while the other hand, holds the back of my gown closed. Seems like the only hospital item they make that makes sense, are the socks with the grip on the bottom of them. I love my baby blue socks with the grip on the bottom, I wish they sold these in the store.

As I walk pass the first nurse station, the nurse sitting there hardly acknowledges me because she’s too busy documenting on her report. But I do exchange pleasantries with her anyways. Once I walk pass the second station, I notice the elevator light is on, and the door is about to open.

This tall dark man with glasses on was wearing medical scrubs, and looking around as if he was lost. He steps out and asks the nurse for a room number. Room 8-Q is what he asked for and of course I’m more than happy to answer, because that’s my room. I told the strange gentlemen to follow me and I will show him that room. Not realizing he was looking for me. We both walk together down the hall corridor and I’m chatting about how quiet the night is and who was he looking for in room 8-Q? He barely looked at me and never answered my question. He was carrying one of those medical trays with medication and seemed very grim, almost creepy.

Once we got to the room he saw one empty bed and one unused bed. I explained to him that the empty bed was mine and then ask him to assist me in it. He seemed shocked and surprise to find out this was my room. He put the tray down and helped me into my bed and adjusted the bed for me. This mystery man seemed uncomfortable and then he gave me this strange look.

The look he gave me made me feel uncomfortable and gave me a chill. Finally he said he needed to draw some blood from me. But before I allowed him to poke me with the needle, I asked him to pass me my bible that was in the room on the nightstand. He smirked at me and asked me what my favorite scripture is? I told him Psalms 100, and he smiled and said that was his mother’s favorite scripture also. So I started to read it out loud. I could tell it pricked his heart and he asks me to stop reading. I guess it troubled him or something. So I stopped reading it and turned on my TV, and watched one of my favorite BBC channels.

Then he asked me who were Clarice and Frances? My eyes got big, as I realized something was out of the ordinary with this man. How did he know them? Then finally he said… I was hired to kill you

Oh my God, what? then I sat up a little and was about to push my button for the nurses.

Shocked and devastated by this, I said to him… Frances and Clarice hired you to kill me?

He sat down in the chair next to my bed and said… I’m sorry Cathy, I was expecting someone different. Evil! But I can tell you are a sweet person.

Tears filled my eyes and I began to cry… sobbing uncontrollably.

Why? Why would they want to kill me… He loves me and saved me from a cold, evil place. Why would he do this?

I’m not sure why, but the order came from him and Clarice

I reached over and held the hand of the man who was hired to kill me, and I pleaded with him

Please Sir, don’t harm me… I don’t want to die.

That night he took pity on me and said… Cathy, is there anyone you can call? A family member that you can stay with and hide out at?

The only person I could think of was my cousin Drucilla in Oxford. Drew was someone I could turn to when I had problems in the past, but she probably thinks that I am dead. At this point, I really don’t have a choice. I don’t know what to do. How and why would they do this to me?

Drucilla St. Claire is my first cousin and someone Carlton and I could turn to if ever in need. She is a graduate of Oxford University and works for the local news station in Oxford. The last time I spoke to her was when I was taking care of Frances mother Alexandria, she was very displeased with her company due to a promotion she didn’t get and felt she deserved. I know my cousin will help me… she’s all I have at this point.

I looked at him and said I need to go to Oxford, but before I go there, I have one other stop to make, my home and bank

Of course, but the bank doesn’t open until the morning. Also, I must make it look like you have died.

What?? How does one make it look like one has died, is what I was thinking.

How are you going to make me appear to be dead?

Let me take care of that Cathy, I will return shortly… do not contact anyone! then he left.

Not sure what he had done, but an hour later he returned with a wheel chair and assisted me out of the hospital.

We drove off in his black sedan and drove to the hotel near the town where I grew up. My heart was heavy and broken. A part of me wished he had killed me, because I could not bear Frances doing this to me. I have never experienced so much pain in my life; I wish I had never known Alex. Once at the hotel, I took a hot shower which felt so good on my weakened body. Then I kneeled down on the shower floor crying and balling my eyes out. Why did my beloved Alex turn on me? I know Clarice is evil, but why Frances?

After drying myself off, I got into my bed and laid there hurt until I fell asleep.

The next morning my dark savior came into my room with a bag of clothes for me. It was a pair of jeans, a sweater and sneakers. Based on the bag, it looked like he purchased them at a consignment store. Though I was mentally drained and feeling weak again, I struggled to get dressed. He drove me to my old house for I could get my key and then to the bank. As much as I wanted to close my checking and savings account, I didn’t dare to do so. I feared they were told I was dead and that would alarm someone… possibly Alex. Anyways, between both accounts, there was only £4000.00 in it. The other currency was in my box, which was untraceable.

There was a bank custodian that I didn’t recognize, and I told her, I needed access to my box. After checking my signature she let me in. It took me less than 5 minutes in there to get most of my possessions. Which were my passport, birth certificate, £3000.00, and all of my jewelry; the jewelry alone was worth £75,000.00. Ironically, most of the jewels came from Alex mother—Alexandria. Once done, I got back into the car with my dark savior. I tried to give him all of my money, but he refused it and said that I’m going to need all of my money. Then he graciously drove me to Oxford.

Once we arrived there, I thanked him and he took my hand and said…

"Cathy, I’m sorry it came to this, but know you’ll be better off this way. Stay out