False Regret: Pikorua - Book 1 (25 page)

I
said nothing but obeyed her commands like an emotionless robot. After cleaning
myself and brushing my teeth, she came in the bathroom and twisted my tangled
hair into a presentable bun. She dabbed a little blush on my stark, gaunt cheeks,
and put gloss on my pale lips. I looked like a cadaver, the makeup making me
look less alive, rather than the desired effect.

“Let’s
go now, honey,” she said, taking my arm and helping me up from the toilet. I
sat in the passenger seat of her gray sedan, and Sam got in the back. No one
spoke, and I was glad. I pilfered two more Xanax from my mother’s purse when
she got out to pump the gas. I chewed them as we approached the church. When I tried
to get out of the car, my balance was off, and my mother and brother had to
help me up the stairs. Once inside, most of our graduating class was in
attendance. Cade’s band and his retched family sat near the front. I couldn’t
look anyone in the eye as I kept my focus on the shifting floor beneath me. Mom
and Sam sat me in the first pew where I viewed Cade’s closed casket draped in aromatic
white flowers.
Why do they have a closed casket?
I wondered.
The
killer didn’t shoot him in the head
. I wanted to see his beautiful face one
last time. The sorrow consumed me, and I asked no questions. His guitars flanked
his casket. A portrait of Cade standing on a stage with his acoustic guitar,
hung behind the cold, black coffin. My vision was blurring, and I saw double of
everything on the altar.

“Who’s
in the other casket?” I asked with my words so slurred my mother could barely understand
me.

“What
are you talking about, Ellia?” When she looked into my eyes, realization dawned
on her. “Did you take something? Tell me right now what you took?”

 I
laughed and then cried, quickly vacillating back to laughter again. I knew
everyone was staring at me as I made a spectacle of myself. Their judgements
bore imaginary holes in me, and I wondered if they could see the black
emptiness that lived inside there.

“Just
a little blue thingy,” I said. “It’s still stuck in my teeth.” I opened my
mouth wide so my mother could give me a dental exam.

“It’s
a couple Xanax, Mom,” I heard Sam say. “She’s high, but she’s fine. Let’s just get
through this.”

“How
did she get her hands on the bottle, Sam? I have been giving them to her. I
didn’t trust her with them.”

“She
took them out of your purse when you got gas. I saw her do it but figured she’d
need them to attend his funeral without screaming her head off, again.” A note
of ire hung on his words.

My
mother didn’t respond as the minister entered. The ceremony began. The preacher
droned on about the beauty of heaven after death, but I was oblivious to
everything. My concentration was on remaining upright.  Several people got up
and spoke, and I even heard my name a few times. I felt like I was listening
from underwater, unable to breach the surface to catch what they were saying.
When the pastor dismissed everyone to attend the graveside service, Sam and my mom
helped me to my feet. The next memory was of Scott on the other side of me,
instead of my family. It confused me how my mom had morphed into a drummer. He
glided me down the steps that seemed to loom long and steep in front of me.  My
legs felt rubbery, the ground felt shifty, and my vision was distorted. Scott
carried me across the parking lot and placed me in the car.

“I
think we should take her to the hospital,” my mom said to Sam.

“She
is fine. Just take her to the service so we can go home and put her to bed.
Like this isn’t bad enough, without her making a complete fool of herself.”

“She’s
grieving, Sam.”

“Well,
we all are. She acts like she’s the only one who’s sad. This fucking sucks.” His
voice broke a little, and my mom began to cry again, too.

 My
forehead remained pressed against the window during the funeral procession, and
though I felt drool land in my lap, I didn’t care. Nausea was setting in from
the blurry vision, and once we were parked at the cemetery, I opened the door
and vomited on the gravel path. There was little to regurgitate since it had
been so long since I’d eaten anything. Sam pulled me up out of the car once the
heaves subsided, and Scott was there again. They walked me to the graveside and
sat me in a chair near the casket, next to Cade’s aunt. I kept slumping
forward, so Scott stood behind me and held me upright.

“You
should be ashamed of yourself, Ellia,” his aunt whispered to me. “This is so
inappropriate. If your mother had a brain in her head, she would take you out
of here.”

I
looked over at Cade’s aunt and something inside me snapped. “Don’t talk to me
about inappropriate you, fucking bitch!” I yelled, stunning everyone around us
into silence. My words were slurry but understandable. “You treated him like
shit the entire time he stayed with you. There must be money or something
involved for you to even be here you fucking, cold, hearted cunt!”

“That’s
enough,” my mother said, coming to help Scott and Sam to remove me from the
chair. I struggled to free myself from them, but my muscle coordination and
strength to fight was diminished by the Xanax.

“You
are probably glad he is dead, you hateful witch. I hope you rot in hell!” I
screamed again, and then broke down into hysterical sobbing. I reached out to Cade’s
coffin as they hauled me away. “Cade! Cade!” I screamed and cried as they
continued dragging me through the crowd, and then I mercifully passed out.

I
woke up in a hospital bed, with an IV plugged into my vein. My head was
pounding, but I was in my right mind again. “Mom?” My voice was raw and hoarse.
My mother was in a chair by the window, sleeping. It was dark outside. I cleared
my throat and tried again. “Mom?” Her eyes flew open, and she moved to my
bedside.

“I’m
sorry about the funeral. I just can’t deal with this. I’m so sorry …” I said,
the tears rolling out of my eyes and soaking the pillow case.

My
mother stroked my head. “I know, baby. It is going to get easier, though, I
promise. It just takes time. Go back to sleep now. If you eat something in the
morning, they will let you go home, okay?”

“Okay,”
I said, and closed my eyes; letting sleep steal me away from the pain of
reality.

I
stayed awake with all my memories while nestled in Cade’s arms on the wrought
iron bed we were sharing in our cabin hide away. He had long since fallen
asleep. Tears soaked my pillow as all those emotions spilled. It didn’t seem fair
for it to hurt so much to go back there in my mind, even when he was alive and
next to me. It would kill me to endure something like that again, and nagging
doubts about rekindling anything with Cade, plagued me. He worked in a
dangerous profession, and losing him again, terrified me.  I had to keep my
heart as guarded as possible. He’d proven he’d do what he thought was in my
best interest, whether I agreed or not. It wasn’t safe to love someone like him. 
There was no doubt he would sacrifice his own life to protect me, even though it
would destroy me all over again to do so. I also assumed he would drop me in a heartbeat
if he believed it was the right thing to do. He had already done it once. Even
if we both survived the present danger, he would still be an FBI agent, unless
he was serious about leaving the Bureau. If he stayed an operative, I
envisioned my mother’s life—long days and nights left alone while he was out
doing whatever, and whoever, in the name of his job. The questions and worries
mounted as my brain picked at all the what-ifs like nasty scabs. Even with all
the disturbing possibilities, I still wanted him. He held too much power over
me, and that was unnerving. Cade spoke in the darkness, startling me.

“Stop
examining everything and try to rest.”  He rolled me over and put his forehead
on mine. “Your heartbeat, your breathing pattern, and every muscle in your body
is affected when you get caught up in your head.” He ran his hands up and down
my back, massaging the knots. “Dwelling on the past and questioning the future
will do nothing but drive you crazy.” He brushed a tear from my cheek, and I
rested my head on his chest, listening to rhythmic beat.

His
warm body wrapped me like a blanket. “Go to sleep, El. Rest your mind. I love
you.”

When
I woke in the morning, I was alone in the bed, but I could see Cade through the
open door, standing in the kitchen cooking. The aroma filled the small cabin,
and I was famished. I rolled off the mattress, searching for my clothes that had
been flung somewhere in our haste the night before, and I smiled to myself. At
least we were in complete sync in that one area, and it gave me butterflies. I
abandoned the search for my shirt and got a fresh one from my bag.  The memory
of the accident crept back in when I glimpsed myself in the mirror.  I noted
the bruises that lingered on my face, and I threw a mental blanket over the recollection,
refusing to review it. The things hiding under there were piling up even though
the memories kept spilling out everywhere. I needed it to stop.

“Smells
good,” I said, tying the strings on my sweat pants. The fireplace roared, and the
cabin was almost hot. He smiled and brought me a cup of coffee.

“It’s
almost ready.” He turned his back to me and finished cooking. Freshly showered,
his hair was still damp. He wore a white T-shirt that molded to his every curve,
and I marveled again at his beauty.

After
breakfast, Cade surprised me. “Let’s go to town to pick up supplies and get you
a good pair of hiking boots. You will love the trails out here,” he said.  

“Is
it safe to be in public?” I asked, uncertainty creeping around inside me.

“Probably
not, but I am not leaving you here alone, either. We need food, though, so I
have little choice.  You can wait in the car with a gun, and I want you to wear
this.” He pulled a knit cap out of his bag. “Tuck all your hair up in the hat
and keep your sunglasses on at all times.”

I
took the items and did as he said. Once in town, Cade did the grocery shopping
while I stayed in the car like his dutiful pet. After stocking up the necessities,
he went to a shoe store and came out with a pair of boots. When we got back to
the cabin, he motioned for me to sit in a chair. He got down on one knee and
put the Lowa Renegade on my foot, lacing it up and checking the fit. I flashed
to that night at his boss’s lake house, when he had knelt in front of me with a
promise ring. My heart seized, as always, with the memory.

When
I looked up, he was staring at me again. “Stop thinking, Ellia,” he repeated. I
shook off the pain and nodded. He slipped the next boot on my foot.

“I
feel like Cinderella.”

He
smirked. “Sorry, I’m no prince.”

“I
suppose not,” I said, as the sadness of the past sat on my shoulders again. He
had been my prince once, but that boy died one summer night in Detroit. He
studied my face for a moment, and for the first time, I saw profound anguish in
his eyes. Once he pulled my jean legs down over the new boots, he got up and
walked into the kitchen, getting a glass of water.

I
followed him and wrapped my arms around his waist. “I’m sorry.”

He
turned into me and kissed me. “Nothing to be apologetic about, El. I know the
truth of what I am, and I have to live with it. Want to go for a walk?”

“Okay,”
I said, disentangling myself and grabbing a coat.

Cade
put four water bottles in his backpack and shoved a pistol into mine. “Why are
you giving me a gun?”  He always had his gun strapped to his body, so I wasn’t sure
why he thought I needed another one in my pack. Guns made me nervous.

“It’s
for you. When we get out on the trail, I want you to practice shooting it. From
now on, I want a weapon on you at all times, and I want you to feel comfortable
using it.”

I
shivered, the fear running through me again, remembering I wasn’t on vacation
to rekindle an old relationship, I was hiding from lunatics.

Cade
was right, even in the winter, the Smokey’s were beautiful. We hiked for an
hour and ended near a waterfall. We shot at targets, after he gave me lengthy
lecture in gun safety. He stood behind me, instructing me how to hold and shoot
the weapon, but the proximity of his body made it hard to concentrate. I deliberately
tried to turn him on by rubbing my bottom against his groin, but I only managed
to annoy him, not arouse him.

“Stop
it, El, now is not the time. You need to take this serious so you can defend
yourself if something happens to me.” He scolded me with a harsh tone.

That
was all he needed to say to change my mood. My worry and fear surrounded me
like a hungry wolf pack.  I focused on the task at hand and shot a decent
grouping on the target.

“Good,”
he said, impressed. “When we get to the cabin, I will teach you how to clean
your weapon.”

We
packed up our things to leave, but Cade stopped and put my backpack on the
trail. He kissed me with intent, his hands roaming my body, eliciting the
respond it always did. With one swift movement he turned me around and yanked
my jeans down to my knees before bending me over a boulder and making me scream
his name.

Once
back at the cabin, we warmed up by the fire. He had a beer while I stuck to
tea, and we sat in front of the flames for a while, neither feeling the need to
say much while he gave me a gun cleaning lesson.  

“Let’s
check out that hot tub; what do you think?” he asked, after a late dinner.

“Sounds
good.” I excused myself to the bathroom. “He was already in the water waiting
for me when I went out on the deck. In the dim light, I disrobed, and got in
next to him. We gazed over the mountains as the moon rose, lighting up the
Tennessee sky. It was beautiful and romantic, making it easy to forget why we were
there. I hid away my grief and anxiety to just enjoy a moment with him.

 It
began to snow, and I giggled as I tipped my head to the heavens, elated by the
feel of cold snowflakes on my steamy skin. I opened my mouth and caught the
flakes on my tongue like I used to when I was little. I glanced at Cade who was
watching me intently. He smiled at me, and I gave him a wicked grin in return,
before splashing him. I laughed heartily as he returned a hot wave into my
face. The sensation of bliss was foreign, and I wasn’t sure how to embrace the
strange joy that had come over me.

He
pulled me into his lap. “Did you know there is no greater sound on this earth
than your laughter? I missed you so much, Ellia,” he said before pressing his
lips to mine, igniting me all over again.

***

The
summer, after Cade’s death, drifted by in haze, each day blurring into the
next. I never went to work, so I lost my job. Most days I spent lying in bed
staring out the window, not thinking about anything at all. My mother forced me
to a doctor, threatening to have me committed to a mental hospital if I didn’t
go. The M.D. put me on a strong anti-depressant, which dulled my pain and kept
me functional, but was nowhere near potent enough to help me find my way out of
the hole. She begged me to go to counseling, but I vehemently refused. I could
not open my wounds to myself, let alone a shrink. College was fast approaching,
but I didn’t want to attend anymore. My mom left me no choice, though, stating
the alternative would be the street. She believed school was the distraction I
needed to break free of the gloom--a new place and a new life. The two of us
had become abrasive to each other, and she would be glad to be rid of her sulky,
moody, disrespectful daughter.    

That
summer, I discovered marijuana and became a regular user. Sam’s friend kept me
well supplied, and I used the money I’d saved from working to buy it. Booze was
also a constant companion. A little flirting in a party store parking lot,
scored me endless bottles of alcohol.  I kept a small tavern hidden in my
closet, always available when the pain got too hard. I spent my eighteenth
birthday alone in my room, refusing to come out, even though my mom had baked a
cake and invited Ashley and Maria over to celebrate. Declining to talk to
anyone, I drank myself into a tearful stupor from behind a closed door. The
rest of the night, I vomited in my toilet and shook on the bathroom floor.

It
didn’t take me long to find the wrong crowd at school. Even good colleges have
bad kids, I discovered. It started in my chemistry class which housed at least
six hundred and fifty students in the lecture hall. A hang-over assaulted me.
The boy next to me nudged my arm. “Hey, you need something?” he asked. I turned
to tell him to screw off, but I saw he had a pill in his hand. “You were at the
party last night,” he said. “I figured you’d be hung over as hell today. Swallow
this, it will help.”  I didn’t ask what it was and didn’t care. If it numbed my
headache and soothed my stomach, I’d eat anything; death would just be a bonus.

“Thanks,”
I replied, taking a chug of my water bottle. He slipped me a note.

“Here’s
my number if you like it and want more. My name’s Joe.” He held out his hand. I
hastily shook it, then slumped back in the chair. Within minutes, my foul mood,
fatigue, and headache dissipated as a lightweight happiness fell upon me. Joe
watched me and smiled, knowing his tablet was working. I grinned back, feeling
alive. For the first time in weeks, I could focus on the undergrad student at
the head of the class. I’d bombed every assignment and test in all my classes until
that point, but clarity had finally come in the form of a little, orange, pill-shaped
angel.

Joe
soon became, not only my dealer, but my boyfriend. My whole life centered on
partying, and even though the amp helped me focus when I took it, I still
missed so many classes, that my grades were beyond salvaging. The illicit
activities coupled with the unprotected sex with Joe, and a few others, led to a
pregnancy scare which was my breaking point. I was three months late and scared
to death, knowing all the drinking, smoking, and pill popping might leave me
with a deformed fetus. Karma would come to visit.  I deserved it, but I
couldn’t bear it. A part of me understood that telling him would be a mistake,
but I tracked him down, anyway. He was in the bar as usual, playing pool with
friends. A girl with large boobs hung off his arm.

“I
need to talk to you,” I said. His wavy blonde hair was in his eyes, and I absently
reached up and moved it out of the way. He flinched and smacked my hand away
from him.

“Go
home, Ellia.” He glared at me as if I disgusted him. “I’m busy.” He looked at
his busty girlfriend and put his arm around the girl’s waist.

“Not
until I talk to you, Joe,” I said, determined to get him unlatched from the
bimbo. I sounded desperate and looked the part with my unwashed hair and dirty
clothes.

“Who
is this bitch?” asked the male friend sitting next to him, holding a pool
stick. “And who the fuck is Joe?”  

“Don’t
worry about it, man,” he assured his friend. “This chick is crazy as fuck and
won’t leave me alone. I told her my name was Joe so she couldn’t stalk me,” he
laughed. He looked over at the girl who stood with her arms crossed, looking
quizzical and angry. “I will deal with her, baby. I’ll be right back. She’s in
my chemistry class, if you know what I mean.” He winked at her, and she nodded,
unfolding her limbs and smiling at him. He grabbed me and escorted me out the
back door of the bar, tossing me in the alley. My knees skidded across the
pavement.

“What
the fuck do you want? I just gave you a week’s worth of pills. How dare you
interrupt me when I am with my girl,” he spat at me.