No doubt about it, she was going to lose Michael Dalton as a client. His three horses milled in their lot of pasture, lazily swishing flies as they methodically ripped grasses with even teeth. The expensive Hanoverian's coat glistened like burnished metal, reminding her of a Porsche in the sun. The thought of their loss made her stomach turn over in dismay.

But there was nothing else she could do. The man had made clear that he had intentions which included much more than merely than training his horses. Alexandra nearly felt his palpable anger at the lame excuse that came to her mind at the time, seething like some sort of poison through the phone. It had literally frightened her.

Jamie had called her for breakfast then, and she had finished the conversation as rapidly as possible before embarking on a culinary delight of eggs, pancakes, sausage, and steaming mugs of coffee. She decided not to even mention the conversation to Jamie, for a full belly and a walk to the stable to feed the animals together had made her feel all warm and fuzzy again.

Alexandra had already told him a lot about her past. Even the most embarrassing aspects. Once she started talking, a flurry of words and emotions had stumbled out of her mouth much like a Catholic confession.

How her father's desertion and her mother's resultant descent into alcoholism and aloofness had left her feeling like those baby wrens that had fallen to the bottom of a deep dark hole with no way out to the light. Only now, she had found a way. Many years later, but she had found a way.

Alex resolved to visit the courthouse in Coudersport next week. She was changing her name back to Carter, her maiden name. She was no longer Alexandra Winters. Finding Eden was her new beginning. She was no longer waiting to be saved. Alexandra was awake and alive again, and the feeling took her breath away.

Go figure that her rental car was a total piece of shit. As were the roads. God, she had only landed in a tiny airport in Williamsport a few hours ago and she already hated Pennsylvania.

Still, Andrea had herself turned out, dressed to the nines, smelling like a dream, and causing many heads to turn in the airport. She had a job to do, as per Marcus's instructions. It was not one of her favorites, due to the inevitable outcome, but there were always little perks along the way.

Her drugs, the ones she needed to bring anyway, were stuffed inside the small bag of toys and dildos that the bagger attendants had smirked at during the scan. Thankfully, there had been no dogs. The last thing she had wanted to do was swallow anything or stuff something up into her box, like an addict. The drugs weren't intended for her recreation. Well, maybe a little.

Was she becoming more like him? She almost experienced a shiver of excitement at the thought of what might come, of what events he might be planning. When Marcus got this way, the outcome was always uncertain. Sometimes, she ended up losing big and paying dearly. But other times, a thrill was there, intense and sexual... and satisfying.

It was quite true that once you had experienced elicit, titillating, even sadistic pleasures, they became even more desirable. One taste was all it took. She would do anything for Marcus, as his satisfaction pleased her to no end. No matter what he asked of her.

"Hey Bro, are you in la-la land today, or what?"

Jamie jumped at the sudden intrusion into his dream world, and felt his cheeks flush before he could contain his embarrassment. He was, in fact, thinking of Alex's lithe little body beneath his own, sweaty and shuddering in her final orgasm of the morning.

She had experienced three that he could count. Her face, in that ultra unguarded moment on the edge of extreme pleasure, made him harder than a drill bit. And more than ready to put in the extra work.

He remembered, quite vividly, the way her sweat tasted, intermixed with her natural sweetness, as his tongue ran over her entire body to eventually delve into that soft, wet heaven that only a woman in ecstasy could produce.

He had held back as long as he possibly could, starting and stopping many times, working her body and his cock into a frenzy that had culminated in him swelling to twice his normal size inside her tight walls. His own orgasm had been more intense than any he had before experienced. Christ, what a morning.

"Nice," guffawed Aaron at his glazed look. "Hey, give me some details to work with. I want the full visual effect."

"Kiss off," Jamie laughed, shaking his head to clear the lingering fantasy. "Go hit up the internet if you need material, you perv."

Keister cocked his head and thumped his tail at Aaron's feet. Scratching him roughly behind the ears, Aaron snorted. "Why, we already did that today, didn't we boy?"

"TMI," moaned Jamie, and at that, the back screen door swung upon with an audible screech. It sent a shiver up his spine, and for the thirtieth time, Jamie vowed to grab some grease and fix it before the day was up. He turned, and attempted to stifle an audible groan when he saw it was Tracey who had let herself in.

"Wow," mumbled Aaron, and although he didn't say it, even Jamie had to agree. Tracey was dressed in a slimming white skirt with a royal blue blouse that accented her cleavage without the usual trashy effect.

Her hair was softly styled and her make-up was subtle, with a soft pink lipstick and matching wedge sandals. This was no small feat for Tracey, who favored Daisy Duke cut-offs and the tightest tees imaginable to man that accentuated her amply curved breasts and firm tanned thighs.

The scent of lavender misted through the air when she came to a stop at the kitchen counter, and casually leaned a hip against it. "Hi, boys," she said with a coy smile at their astonished looks. "What's happening?"

"You got a job interview or something?" asked Aaron, letting loose a whistle while scratching his head. It was puzzling, Jamie agreed, for it wasn't often that Tracey was looking clear-eyed and put together.

She giggled like a teenager and tossed back her fine blond locks. Keister waddled his way over to her and barked shortly for attention, but she ignored him. She was never the animal loving kind. "Sort of, you could say. I made me and Jamie some special reservations."

Jamie's stomach dropped at her words. "What are you talking about?" He glanced over at his brother, whose eyes were steeling over perceptively. Yep, his little brother had a crush going again, this time a big one. All this shit was coming to a head, and going nowhere good in a hurry. Jealousy between siblings could wreck a lot, and quickly.

"I worked a double last week, and put money away. I was hoping to go somewhere nice for dinner. And then... well, Jamie, how does staying over at that Victorian bed and breakfast outside of Roulette sound? You know, the one with the lake and the fountain? They even give couples massages there, I heard."

"I know the one," Jamie managed, clearing his throat, "but I'm not sure where this is all coming from."

"Yeah, Tracey," muttered Aaron, "you two have been less than the best of love birds lately." Aaron sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers, and Jamie noticed the sudden tick in his brother's jawline.

"When are you two gonna give this a rest?" asked Aaron tightly. He continued with a shake of his head. "You totally suck together you know."

Tracey swung on him defensively, with blue eyes flashing. "We do NOT suck, Aaron," she answered forcefully. "We just need a... a boost. We've been through some hard times. I want to start over, and try again. I want to clean up, and I want to make another baby, Jamie. I think it's time. It will be a perfect next step for us. We were so good together."

"Another baby, Tracey? For Christ's sake!" Jamie sunk his head in his hands, trying hard not to lose his cool. His ears had gone hot and there was that familiar nauseous dread in his stomach. He was beginning to think that every single woman on the planet was completely crazy.

The bowl containing the chicken corn chowder slipped from her fingers and fell with a hollow thunk to the porch step. Alex was vaguely aware of the warm cream and potato chunks spreading over her pinkies in the open-toed sandals which she had selected for the impromptu visit.

Jamie... and this sultry blonde girl... and another baby? Aaron must have heard the soup bowl clatter because his head swiveled in her direction and his dark, grey eyes pinned and held her through the screened door.

"Hey there, come on in, Alex," he barked out with a harsh laugh at her shocked expression. "You and Tracey oughta meet, hell, it's perfect timing actually. Hey, Tracey, this is Jamie's new girlfriend from D.C. You two meet yet? I suspect they've really been practicing some baby-making lately."

Somehow, Alex managed to open the door and step inside that kitchen, though her legs were leaden and numb. She could feel her heart thrumming up in her ears, and her pulse gushed through them like the sound of roaring water. One glance at Jamie's ashen face and she knew that there was something seriously amiss.

She hadn't, in fact, heard wrong. A baby? She looked at the blond a Tracey - whose face had gone bright red. Her lips were trembling and her eyes were wild.

All hell broke loose at that moment. The blond was shrieking like a cat at Jamie, Jamie was calling his brother a fucking, little-son-of-a-bitch, and Aaron was laughing like it was all really funny. A frightened Keister began to howl forlornly at the raised voices and tension in the air.

"You're screwing her, Jamie? Really? A city bitch? When I am right here, all the time, waiting for you?" Tracey shrieked before wheeling around to gape at Alex. Jamie launched himself across the room to grab a chortling Aaron by the shirt, turning chairs as he went.

"You, just get out," ground out Tracey, piercing Alex with a wicked glare. "We had a baby. You have no right to be here, so leave."

Alex, for once, found herself speechless. No witty comeback, no icy voice, no sarcasm sharp enough to cut. She looked toward Jamie, who had his brother in a headlock like rough-housing teenagers. "I told you everything, Jamie," she whispered. "Why didn't you tell me about this?"

"It wasn't the right time, Alex," he muttered back through clenched teeth. "I had no idea she would show up here today with her delusions. You don't know the whole story, yet, but I will tell you."

Tracey and Aaron yelled more obscenities in unison, and additional chairs fell by the wayside with a clatter as the curses flew.

It was time to exit. Alex felt like she was in the middle of a Jerry Springer episode. She flew out of the kitchen door, and it slammed with a squeaking bang behind her. When she passed a startled Diana coming up the walk, Alexandra didn't stop to chat or pick up the broken bowl. She ran as fast as her sandals would let her.

"I've never been so disappointed or humiliated in my entire life," said Diana coldly. Aaron was nursing a black eye and Jamie a split lip. Tracey still cried softly in the corner, and her mascara was now smeared down both cheeks. "What kind of boys did I raise? Everyone here is out of control. Except for Alex, who had the sense to quietly leave the premises."

"Will you shut up about that witch!" Tracey wailed.

"Tracey, we have been trying to get you into rehab for no less than four years. You have been on binge after binge, with no hint of an attempt to take responsibility for yourself. Yes, you suffered a tragedy. It's not the end of the world."

"She suffered way more than you realize," Aaron declared in her defense. "And Jamie just kept her hanging on."

"You know that's not true, little brother," replied Jamie coldly. "This situation is nothing short of a nightmare. I care about her welfare, but that's it. After the baby died..."

"That's it," ground out Tracey. "I'm outta here, I have heard enough from all of you. All I wanted to do today was move on. Start over." She wiped at her mascara-streaked cheeks. "Look what happened to my face."

"I'll go with you Tracey," said Aaron. "You shouldn't be alone."

"I WANT to be alone," spat Tracey. "Away from all the Sheldons." She stalked from the kitchen and out of the door.

The silence that followed the tumultuous commotion and Tracey's dramatic exit was thick and pregnant with uncertainty. Diana, who never swore, struck the wooden table with her palm and stated quite simply, "This is complete and utter bullshit. What have we been reduced to here?"

"She's right," muttered Jamie. "This should never have happened."

"Jamie," she added, "Your kindness is only lending to her hopes, even though I understand why you do it. It's time to say goodbye to her completely. We really have done all we could. All of us."

"She's gonna end up dead if we cut her out of this family," proclaimed Aaron hoarsely. There was real fear in his voice. "She has no one else, but us. Jamie should have told her about Alex a long time ago."

"There really was no Alex until just.... recently," argued Jamie. "Alex and I haven't always been on the best of terms, either. There's no casual way to just explain this story, and this history."

"Tracey didn't deserve that," muttered Aaron insistently.

"You're the one who dug in the knife and made it a hell of a lot worse!" growled Jamie.

Diana sighed and held up her hand to cut off the exchange. "Aaron, there is an age difference between you and Tracey, but I am sensing that you don't care a whit. Why don't you just go after her? Like, now?"

Aaron suddenly looked uncomfortable. "She's still stuck on him," he muttered with a nod toward his older brother. "I can't get her to look my way."

"If you didn't treat it like a competition and sibling rivalry, I would bet that she would look at you differently. Jamie's not the enemy, but what I do often see is you being an ass."

"Thanks Mom," Aaron growled, and got up from the table. He grabbed his black, Chevy ball cap and stuck it on backwards, then scooped up his car keys. "I'm out too," he announced, and took his leave.

Diana looked at Jamie with raised eyebrows over her coffee mug. "Do you think he will go after her?"

Jamie shrugged. "I hope so. He's definitely got it bad, but God she's such a mess. Don't know where she would be heading."

"Hopefully not the nearest bar," Diana echoed his own thoughts entirely.

Jamie lowered his head into his hands. "What do I do about Alex? My God, what a SNAFU."

"I can pay her a visit," Diana offered.

"That would look pretty bad, having my mother do my explaining."

"Not really. Just let me soften things up and then you two can talk it through. If you go first, she may run you off with a shotgun."

Jamie laughed in agreement, and went for the coffee pot himself.

Waiting for Eden ~*~*~*~*~*~.

Chapter 18.

The cigarette lighter in the car wasn't working, her Ipod was on the fritz, and the cherry lipstick she had in her new purse had melted and caused a permanent mess in the interior compartments. Could anything else go wrong with this day, really?

Tracey simply could not believe that Jamie Sheldon was screwing some out-of-town, wealthy-looking, city bitch. It didn't work, it didn't fit his personality, not to mention the fact that he was hers, and had been for six years. Six years!!

And the bitch was pretty. Like, really pretty. She had been wondering what Jamie was up to ever since the day she had tried to search his room. Now it seemed her suspicious were all dead center.

Tracey was livid. She was jealous as hell. She wanted to kill. She needed to calm down, and without a doubt, required a drink to do so. The Cherryville Pub was only a mile up the road, so she made a bee-line for it, her booted foot pressing the accelerator a little deeper in anticipation.

The bar was basically empty but for a solitary biker, but it still smelled as if a cigarette was lit in every corner of the joint. That was okay with her. It was a soothing, familiar scent. She ordered a Miller Lite on tap with a house tequila shot on the side from a nondescript, middle-age bartender with circles under her big, brown eyes and a mouth full of crooked, yellow teeth.

The tequila wasn't exactly smooth, but it was cheap. The beer was frothy heaven in a chilled glass. The bartender wandered off to smoke, obviously not the talkative type, which was fine with her at the moment. The yellow teeth were gross.

The jealousy that was squirming in her belly at that very moment was pure and desolate torture. She knew now that she would never be good enough. Tracey looked at the fingers that were wrapped around her beer glass and frowned at the quality of her nails. The paint job sucked. The bracelets that jingled around her wrist were plastic a coated with a silvery substance to make them look a bit more like the real thing, but quite obviously not. Her once-cute thumb ring had a gouge out of it and was starting to corrode. It left a green streak on her skin. How had she not noticed these little things before? How could she even think they were cute?

Some people were just born with the money or smarts to never have to struggle. Not her. She couldn't stand the unfairness of it. She had loved Jamie Sheldon like no one else for six years. He drew her like a magnet ever since the first time she waited on him and his Dad at the diner.

He'd been a hard catch. She was a few years younger, and according to him a"not his type." Now, little miss silver spoon a what was her name... Alex Winters? a waltzes in with her Michael Kors accessories and Lancome-infused fairy dust, and wham, country boy Jamie is sucked right into her essence like a tool.

A little thought wiggled into the background of her mind as she took another long pull of Miller Lite, all while raising a finger for the loitering waitress to bring another. There was something about the name Alex Winters. Something about the way she looked too. Something that was familiar, and Tracey felt like she needed to remember it... ASAP.

After the next beer arrived, foaming over its top and pooling around the base, it came to her. The really hot guy that she had waited on several weeks back had been looking for a certain Alexandra Winters. And not because she was a good person. Little miss city was in trouble. Wanted. Hell, yes.

Tracey flipped her purse up on the bar and started rummaging through the mess inside, praying that the lipstick hadn't ruined anything she had written on a scrap of paper. What was his name??

She sucked her lip between her teeth and conjured up his image. Black hair, dark eyes, tall with a killer build, and totally oozing with the scent of money. Men like that didn't look twice at her, even with the rack she boasted. But he had. He had really looked.

Her fingers grasped a wrinkled up paper shred, and Tracey carefully unfolded it. Antonio Marco. Pay-dirt. Although a little cherry red lipstick smeared the right corner, the numbers weren't even smudged a bit. Well it was going to be Antonio's lucky day.

The steaming water coursed over her head, turning Andrea's long blonde hair into a wet and heavy shank that lapped at the small of her back. She shivered as the sensation produced full body chills and hardened her vividly pink nipples.

Hmm. Perhaps the tingling she was experiencing was actually the uncertainty of what was surely soon to come.

Marcus was unreadable, even more so than usual. Upon her arrival, he seemed agitated, although his voice was smooth, calm and unwavering. Andrea couldn't discern if it was from the excitement of closing in on his ultimate mark with a big payoff at hand, or something altogether different. It was almost as if he was speedballing, but she knew he did not often mix the tight end of business with recreation. She nibbled her lower lip, pondering.

The first time she had experienced a speedball had been unforgettable. Marcus had scared her witless, ruthlessly tying her four limbs tightly to the bedposts with leather belts before proceeding to withdraw a needle from his bag.

He informed her that injecting a speedball with the correct amounts of coke and heroin was only for the very experienced. He told her if she overdosed on the heroin, he would try to bring her back with more coke... maybe.