False Regret: Pikorua - Book 1 (28 page)

My
father continued. “I did everything I could to protect you and Sam, and even
your mom. If I had what Camerson wants, I’d give it to him, Ellia. You may not
believe me, but I love you and would put none of you through this if I had
something to bargain. I am so sorry.” His voice broke, and he cried real tears.
I listened to his contrite words and watched him sob, but my gut told me he was
lying about all of it.

My
eyes glared at him, trying to figure how I was born of such evil. “I don’t even
know who you are, and I guess I never did,” I said. “You disgust me on every
level.”

“I
don’t blame you for hating me. I hate myself. Once you get in so deep with
something though, it is hard to walk away from it. By selling the guns a second
time, I would have enough money to leave all this debauchery behind me. It was never
my intention for any of you to be part of this,” he said. “I swear; I tried to
protect all of you.”

“You
are so full of shit. Slaying a man’s family is how all this started, at least
with Camerson and Cade. Are you stupid enough to believe he wouldn’t target
your kids? You would have done the same thing if on the other end. You are a
murdering thief, and nothing more.”

He
sighed. “I wanted out, Ellia, and I didn’t consider the consequences for those
around me. In the beginning, when I was on the run, I was aware they had your
mom and Sam. I admit, I didn’t try to help them. If I gave Camerson the money
and the guns, they’d still kill my family to punish me. I didn’t seem fair to give
them both.  By then, you were in protective custody so I knew you were safe.
Camerson’s people found me, though, and here I am. I can’t save us, honey, no
matter how much I wish I could.”

 “How
long do you think they plan to continue this torture?”

“For
as long as we stay alive, I suppose. They believe I will break, but it’s like
squeezing blood from a turnip--I have no fucking answers for them. You need to prepare
yourself for a lengthy ordeal.”

 How
could I prepare for that? Whether my dad was lying or not, I comprehended in
that moment, that no amount of abuse and torture would make him talk. I tipped
my head back and closed my eyes, contemplating how to kill myself to be free of
them all.  Salt-and-pepper came in with Camerson.

 “Well,
did we get anywhere?” he asked.

I
looked at him, knowing he saw the answer in my features, but I told them anyway.
“The guns, the money, all of it, were stolen. You won’t get an anything from
him because he has nothing to give.”

“I
see,” said the Camerson. “So you want to stick to this little tale you have
spun for everyone, Bradley? So be it.” He nodded to Salt-and-pepper, who opened
his tool kit again. I didn’t know how much more I could take. My muscles were
jelly from the stun gun, my fingers were still bleeding, and the welts from the
whip oozed.

I
cried and pleaded with the brutal torturer.  “Just kill me; please just kill me.
Don’t hurt me anymore,” I begged. He ignored me but didn’t touch me. Instead,
he cut off two of my father’s fingertips on his left hand, while my dad screamed.
His blood spilled onto the floor, and he was sobbing and begging. Salt-and-pepper
then forced him to eat his own finger ends, shoving them down his throat, with
ruthless effort until he was choking on them. I leaned forward and vomited all
over myself. My spewing of puke angered Salt-and-pepper, so he took his pliers
and knocked me upside the head. Everything went black.

I
woke up in the dark place I had started. I found a corner and curled myself
into it, needing the protection on at least two sides. The blackness was so disorienting
I didn’t understand my spatial relationship in the room or the time of day. I
was cold, and tired, and in agonizing discomfort. The nerve endings in my fingers
were on fire, as well as the ones on my torso. My head throbbed and jaw hurt. I
wanted to end the physical and emotional pain. There was no more point in
suffering. There was no information to stop the torture. Cade was dead, but I couldn’t
bring my mind to think of him. Days seem to pass, and no one came. I had no
food or water.  I had not even urinated again since I’d lost control of my
bladder when Salt-and- pepper shocked me. 

When
he returned, he took me to the same room to see Camerson again. They brought my
dad into the space, looking defeated and broken. Salt-and-pepper had worked him
over good, and he was barely conscious. They propped him in a chair, and his
hand, now bandaged, hung limp at his side.

“As
you can perceive, Ellia, we are still not getting anywhere. You may proceed.”
He motioned to Salt-and-pepper, who came at me like predator on prey and bent
me over the table, my feet still on the floor. My gown fell open, exposing my
butt. Salt-and-pepper tore my tattered underwear away and slapped me hard with
his hand, making my ass cheeks sting and burn. Another man held my father’s head,
forcing him watch, and then Salt-and-pepper unzipped his pants. The pain of
rape was unbearable, but that didn’t compare to the sodomizing that followed. I
screamed as my head bounced off the wall and my hips rammed into the edge of the
table with each agonizing and brutal thrust. It felt like a hammer to my skull
while he shredded my insides. Salt-and-pepper finished with a satisfied grunt
as his sperm dripped down my leg to join the blood. He took his place holding my
dad, coercing him to witness the assault, while his partner seized his turn on
me. Hot blood poured down my legs and pooled on the floor at my feet as my
internal parts hemorrhaged from the invasion. I couldn’t move, and my mind had
gone blank. I was there, yet somewhere far away, vaguely aware they had taken
my father from the room. In my traumatized state, I slid down to the floor,
laying in my red puddle, and stared off into the distance. Salt-and-pepper
grabbed my wrist and dragged me across the concrete, back to my dark room,
scraping my skin off along the way. He shut off the light and left me there
again.

When
I met Matt, I was four years post graduate from the University of Michigan. I
landed a great job and had moved into a new home overlooking Lake Michigan. The
world seemed clear and my future tolerable. I still missed Cade every single
day, on a deep level, but I hid from him and those feelings at all costs. The
memories were too hard to bear.  Reading was my entertainment most nights, and
I was in a book store, sipping Starbuck’s coffee, looking for a recipe book,
when my arm brushed up against Matt’s.

“Oh
sorry,” I said. “I didn’t see you there. Gosh, why can’t they make a simple book
with no fancy ingredients? Where do people even find this stuff?” I was talking
more to myself than to him, but he responded.

He
pulled a yellow and black paperback off the shelf “What about this one?” he asked,
handing it towards me. The title was “
Cooking for Dummies,”
and I
laughed so hard I spilled a bit of my coffee onto the floor.

“Holy
crap, they have one of these for everything don’t they? I wonder if they make one
for getting coffee out of commercial carpeting.” I used the toe of my shoe to
rub the dribbled coffee into the green carpet and then looked up at Matt.  He
was a few inches taller than me with soft blonde hair combed to the side in a
generic, non-threatening Ken doll style. His eyes were the corn-flower blue,
the kind that made you stare into them. Though he didn’t appear much like a guy
who worked out, his posture was straight, and he was slim.

“I’m
Matt,” he said offering me his hand. I shook it and told him my name.  “In all
actuality, this book is quite good.” He pointed to the
Dummies
manual.
“I have graduated from it, though, and am looking to branch out. I never
realized growing up I would someday have to learn to cook for myself. My mother
really should have better prepared me.” He laughed.

“I
understand completely. My mom worked all the time, and my brother and I
survived on take out or mac-and-cheese, whatever was easy. Now I want to eat
like a healthy adult should, and I don’t know how,” I said, surprising myself
for offering any information to a stranger in a book store. He was cute though,
and I was interested.

“How
about we get together and try a few recipes some time.” He grinned at me, and I
wasn’t sure if he was teasing or asking me out on a date.

I
decided to play along and see what happened. “Hmm … Maybe we should start with
a more public venue, sir. You could be a serial killer, and I could end up being
your dinner.” I laughed when he raised his eyebrows as if shocked I might
consider him a threat.

“I
guess you’re right, but I should probably be the one who’s afraid; you sort of
have that serial killer air,” he teased. “What if we go out to eat, then? Are
you free tonight?”  He looked at his watch, “Are you free right now?”

With
a nervous giggle, I stalled for an answer. I had not dated anyone since Cade,
and that was almost a decade ago. A stint of illicit behavior that first year
of college did not qualify as courtship, and I had turned down every would-be
suitor since then. Celebrating nine years of celibacy and a boyfriend-free
existence seemed pathetic, yet it was my reality. Loneliness often plagued me,
but I couldn’t seem to connect to people on an emotional level. I took a deep
breath and decided it was time to get on with my life, in a healthy productive
way. “Why yes, Matt, I am free … right after I buy this book.” I held up my
Dummies
manual.

We
walked to a nearby Chinese restaurant and chatted for two hours. I discovered
he was a tax lawyer with his own firm. Although I had no real interest in tax
law, I still found myself captivated by him. I liked the way his mouth moved
when he talked, and by the end of the meal, I found myself wanting to kiss him.
My wish came true when we left the restaurant and reached my car which was
still at the bookstore.

“I
had a great time, Ellia,” he said, taking one of my hands. “Can I call you? I
would love to see you again.”

I
took his other hand in mine. “That would be nice. Perhaps we can cook together
sometime. You could show me what you’ve learned,” I smiled up at him. He leaned
in, as did I, and we kissed. He gave me butterflies in my stomach, something I
hadn’t experienced since Cade died.  When we parted, I got in my car and
thought about what it meant. Guilt flitted at the edge of my mind, but the
prospect of finding a normal, fulfilling life excited me. I touched my fingers
to my lips and voiced his name out loud to see how it sounded when connected to
my own. I had no close friends, just co-workers with whom I occasionally had
lunch or dinner. I lived cocooned inside an emotional barrier, where no real
feelings ever touched me, so this new development sat on the edge of
terrifying.

As
soon as I walked through my door, the phone rang, and we talked half the night.
I fell asleep with hope in my heart.

That
meeting started my second love affair, and though it paled next to the red-hot,
passionate, nearly desperate affection I had for Cade, things were good—Matt
was comfortable. The first time we had sex, I felt shy--timid. That bold self-assuredness
I’d always possessed with Cade, seemed missing. My blonde-haired boyfriend began
in a gentle manner, customary to his nature, but I found myself bored,
releasing my mind to wander. I thought of Cade, remembering the way he electrified
my every nerve, and in response to that memory, my body reacted at once.  I
took control of the situation, forcing him to step up the pace and give me what
I needed. After we finished, sweaty and wore out, he stared at me with a look
of awe. I laughed, knowing I had rocked this placid tax lawyer’s world.

 The
relationship satisfied me in a contented sort of way. It lacked the deep
emotion and intensity I shared with Cade but not by any fault on Matt’s part.
I’d love no one that way again. Things moved fast for us after that, and by six
months, Matt wanted me to move in with him.

“Why
won’t you even consider it?” he asked, laying in the bed next to me. “It just makes
sense, Ellia. I love you, and we are together almost every night, anyway.
Wouldn’t it be easier than hauling our stuff to each other’s houses all the
time?”

“I’m
just not ready, Matt. I care about you very much, but I like things the way
they are.  My house would miss me, and I would miss it.” I smiled at him, trying
to lighten the mood, but he remained disgruntled. I sighed and flipped onto my
back. “Come on babe, we are in a good place, so why ruin it?”

“I
guess I don’t understand your reluctance. Our lives would be better, not worse,
if we lived together fulltime. Do you think a ring would change your mind?” he
asked, turning on his side to stare at me.

Fear
ran through me, and I prayed he wouldn’t propose. I wasn’t even ready to live
with him, let alone marry him. It seemed clear, he didn’t recognize the core of
me. “No, Matt, it wouldn’t change anything, and I wouldn’t take it. Please understand,
living together is not an ethical or moral question for me, it’s a personal issue.
I don’t know how to express my feelings any clearer—I’m not ready.”

“You
have serious commitment fears based on something you experienced as a teenager,
I get that, but it’s time to let go of the past and live in the present. Do you
love me?” he asked, still looking at me, his big blue eyes so sad he broke my
heart a little.

I
leaned over and kissed him, then rolled him onto his back as I straddled him.
“Don’t I show you how much I care about you on a regular basis,” I said, trailing
my hands seductively down his chest while wearing my wicked smile. Sex seemed a
sure deflection.

He
pushed me off of him and sat on the edge of the bed. “This isn’t about sex,
Ellia, why do you have to always bring it back to that? What the hell are you running
from, anyway? I don’t understand why you can be so fully present physically,
but you fade away for anything real or deep.”  He was correct, and even though I
shared the story of Cade’s tragic drive-by shooting, he did not comprehend the
depth of pain I still carried. Fear seized my heart every time I tried to allow
myself to love Matt like he deserved.

Hoping
to diffuse the conversation, I scooted over to him and wrapped my arms around
him. “Matt, I’m sorry I can’t be what you need me to be, but I am doing the
best I can. I’m not saying I will never move in, or won’t ever accept a ring.
All I am expressing is that I am not ready yet. Can you be patient, or do you
want to end things here? Whatever you choose, I’ll understand.”

“Would
you be upset at all if I ended things right now? I am not sure you would. I
tell you I love you all the time, but it seems like torture for you to say it
back.” He turned and looked me in the eye. “Do you love me or not?”

The
complicated answer, hung in my mouth. Yes, I loved him, but not the way he loved
me. The hurt in his eyes at my hesitation, forced the words out of my lips,
anyway. “Of course I love you,” I finally said, and found myself surprised it
didn’t sound contrived in the least. “I guess I didn’t realize how infrequently
I told you, and I’m sorry. Please don’t give up on me.” I kissed him again,
hoping to bring the uncomfortable conversation to an end. We made love again,
and after he fell asleep, I got up and went back to my own home, where I
belonged.

A
few weeks later, he surprised me with the trip to Canada, and I feared he might
use the opportunity to put a ring on my finger. The answer would still be no,
and it would hurt him again. The chance never came though. Cade abducted me,
and Matt perished. Whatever he had planned had died with him. I hoped his
family had given him a beautiful burial, and I prayed they didn’t hate me for
not being able to attend.  His death caused a painful guilt I would always
carry. He deserved so much better than me. He’d been a good man.

***

So
deep inside my head after three days in the blackness, my perception of reality
seemed skewed.  I had a raging fever again, but the hallucinations of giant spiders
and biting ants, might have been from my own decent into insanity.

After
what felt like infinite hours, I heard the door open with great commotion, and
the light flickered to life. I hid myself deep in the corner, hoping all the arachnids
and insects veiled my body and made me invisible. People yelled my name, yet I couldn’t
quite grasp from who or where the sound came. When hands touched my raw skin I screamed,
convinced Salt-and-pepper returned to rape me again. The touch landed gentle on
my back and eased me out of my corner.  Cade loomed above me, a halo of brightness
behind his head, and I believed I had finally crossed over to heaven.

The
nightmare woke me up as my throat constricted, strangling the scream I wanted
to expel.  I opened my eyes, not knowing where I was. My brain seemed
scrambled, and I gleaned there might be something seriously wrong with me.

“Ellia,
honey,” he whispered. “It’s me, baby; no one will ever hurt you again. It’s
over now, it’s over for good this time.” I trembled with fright and confusion.
He pulled me up into his arms and held me though my own arms remained limp at
my sides.  He rocked me back and forth, while his tears wet my shoulder. I wanted
to hold him but my arms wouldn’t go around him; they refused to cooperate. “I’m
so sorry, Ellia. I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you. They’ll never hurt you
again. I swear it’s over, babe. You need to come back, El, please.”

His
words confused me.
What does he mean come back to him? I am right here. He
is holding my body. Am I dead?
Fear settled on me like a scratching claw as
I wondered if I was in the morgue.
No, Ellia, you are not dead. You can see
him and feel him hugging you. A ghost wouldn’t be able to sense his touch.
There is something wrong with you. Maybe you are paralyzed—what if Salt-and-pepper
snapped your spine when …?  No … Put that away we can’t think about that.

 I
had no control over the being I inhabited. A body that had become dead weight,
trapped me even though its heart still beat, and its blood still pumped. The
pain left my body on both a physical and mental level.

When
I didn’t respond to him, he laid me back down on the bed, his face wet with
tears. He brushed the hair off of my forehead and looked into my eyes, but I couldn’t
bear the anguish I saw in them. In a merciful gesture, this body closed its
eyelids, so I didn’t have to see his pain.

Days
of the strange separation of my mind and body continued. The doctors and nurses
came and went, picking at me, prodding me, and trying to elicit a response I couldn’t
give them.  Cade stayed with me, a shadow of facial hair thickening as the days
passed. He looked as broken as me, and I wanted more than anything to reach out
to him. My body refused to cooperate, and strangely, it produced no real
frustration. I’d landed in a safe place, and I didn’t want to come out. The
things under the blanket in my mind squirmed in their wickedness, and I feared
the evil things dwelling there. If I moved from the benign spot, they might
slide out and chase me. I saw glimpses of the ugliness under there in the nightmares
that sometimes crept in, leaving me gasping for air.

When
my physical wounds healed, and my infection and fever went away, they put my body
on a stretcher and loaded me into an ambulance. I did not understand where they
were taking me. Cade left me briefly and looked showered and shaved upon his
return. He rode in the ambulance with me, never letting go of my hand. It
didn’t seem to be a long drive to the destination, but it was hard to tell.
More and more often I seemed to miss gaps of time with no way to account for
them. I wasn’t sure if my body slept more, or if something else was happening. A
fear took hold of me that I might disappear altogether.