Young and unsuspecting, Rochelle Rathbone flirts with danger when she becomes involved with Tobias Chandler, Miami drug czar, and sets the stage for horrors she never knew existed until after their marriage.
Guarded around the clock in his Miami mansion, she becomes a virtual prisoner. A desire for freedom grows into an obsession, and Rochelle’s need to escape triggers the most desperate goal of her life despite Tobias’s dangerous threat to kill her if she tries to leave him. Freedom is worth the risk, and she devises a successful plan of escape.
With three thousand miles separating Rochelle from her tormentor, life is never sweeter than when she falls in love with handsome, debonair Michael Matheson. Nothing but the fear of Tobias coming after her can disrupt her wonderful happiness more than when she opens her door to see Tobias standing there like some evil prodigy out of hell.
Desperate Choices is an emotionally packed drama filled with a young woman’s powerful need to be completely free of an intolerable relationship with a man she despises. With the deadly threat of his retaliation hanging over her head and marring the near perfect paradise found with Michael, Rochelle knows there are only two things that will stop Tobias’s domination and pursuit of her—her death or his.
ATTENTION: I do not censor the actions or language of my characters, and descriptions are sometimes too graphic for sensitive ears. People are from many different walks of life, as are the characters I write about, and I attempt to depict them as nearly accurately as possible to the kind of person they would be if we met them in real life. (God forbid with some of them.
With saliva oozing from the corners of his mouth, Tobias sneered contemptuously at Rochelle’s remark. His hand touched her throat, his fingers gliding about, following the stream of little blue veins that seemed to intrigue him. His hand and fingers spread out all at once around her neck, grasping it so tightly her face turned crimson and her breath became ragged.
“How did you get so goddamned stupid? If I respected you, I might not even want you in the company of those crazy bastards. However, the truth is, darling; the only thing I respect about you is what you have between your legs. Haven’t you learned yet what role you play in my life, Rochelle?” His fingers tightened on her throat.
She grabbed his hand, attempting to loosen his strangling fingers. “Tobias, please stop. You’re hurting my neck!” She gasped for air.
“Shut your goddamned mouth! I’m tired of your constant bitching, and it’s getting worse every time we go out.” Spittle flew from his mouth and sprayed her face.
Uncontrolled words poured from her throat despite the fact they served as an invitation to Tobias’s abuse. “Then don’t make me go out any more with that scum you associate with. I’d rather stay home and read a good book than spend my time trying to be nice to a bunch of low-life scum.”
He released her neck, drew back his hand, and slapped her forcefully across her cheek.
Rochelle reeled and grabbed the stair post to prevent her from falling. Charged with adrenaline and fear, she started up the stairs, intent upon getting away from Tobias, knowing she was likely in for a severe battering—also fearful that one day Tobias’s drunken rages would become so uncontrolled that he would kill her.
Tobias grabbed her, knocking her off-balance, and jerked her back down the steps.
“Bitch, don’t you dare turn your back on me when I’m talking to you. I’m not through with you,” he snarled through another spray of spittle from twisted lips.
“Tobias, please just let me go upstairs,” she pleaded through quivering lips.
He grabbed the front of her gown and jerking her toward him, ripped the fabric off one of her breast. He cupped her breast with his hand and squeezed. “Nice,” he slurred through a sickening smile. “Daddy has something for you, baby.”
She cringed away from him, desperately frightened by his manner, suspecting what he planned to do to her as punishment for confronting him. It wouldn’t be the first time.
“Please, Tobias, let’s just go upstairs.”
“What’s wrong with right here?” He taunted, and roughly massaged her breast.
“You know why—the security cameras. Please, Tobias, you know the guards are watching on the monitors. Please don’t do this.”
She reached up and pushed his hand from her bosom, embarrassed to death knowing this scene was on the monitor screens. She turned again to go upstairs.
“I said don’t ever turn your fucking back on me again!” he ordered through gritted teeth, snatching her around to face him.
Rochelle recoiled in alarm, every nerve prickling with fear. “Please, Tobias. Please don’t do this. I beg you.”
“What’s wrong, baby, I thought you enjoyed being on center-stage?” He taunted. “A fine lady like you would look good on the monitors. Why don’t we give the guards a nice performance?”
His hand was hurting her wrist, and she tried to twist free, but he only squeezed tighter, his alcohol breath puffing nauseously in her face.
“No, Tobias, please. Stop it. Stop it!” she screamed, and for just a second he loosened his hold on her wrist long enough for her to twist from his grasp and shove him away from her. She turned to run, hoping to get to the bathroom and lock herself inside, as she had done on other occasions when he was drunk and abusive.
Rochelle only made it a couple of steps before he grabbed her hair and snatched her back, spinning her about to face him. It felt like her scalp was torn away bringing instant excruciating pain. He drew back his hand and slapped her. She went flying backwards against the stair steps, the edges slamming against her backside.
He reached down where she lay crumpled like a rag doll and grabbed her hand, jerking her to a standing position. With a sneer on his face, he roughly found her lips, ravaging her with his teeth, tongue, and mouth until her lips were swollen and salty with the taste of blood.
She struggled, trying to get away from him, but her slender strength was no match against his hundred and seventy pounds.
When he tasted the blood from her teeth-torn lips, he turned to one side and spit, and then reached out and put his fingers in the cleavage between her breasts. Tightening his grasp on the fabric of her expensive gown, he jerked it downward, ripping the seams of the fine silk, snatching and jerking the fabric until it was torn in shreds from her body.
Rochelle stood there in shock, trying desperately to cover herself with her hands and arms. Fear paralyzed her and she watched as though this horror were happening to someone else as Tobias pulled her to the hard marble floor and tore off her under things. When she was naked, her dignity destroyed, she was aware that Tobias’s mental and physical abuse had reached another level. Raping her in front of security cameras monitored by guards was the ultimate victimization. It would establish his complete control over her life.
With her expensive clothing tattered about her feet, her naked, trembling body chilled by the cold marble floor, she was at Tobias’s mercy. In a punishing assault, he brutally raped her, the pain of the hard floor against her slender form, and his rough treatment drawing hysterical screams from her throat.
When he finished, he rose to his feet, staring down at her as if she were a piece of trash left by the vacuum cleaner. Standing over her, he reached down toward his crotch and zipped his pants.
“Let that be a lesson, Rochelle, to never cross me again.”