False Regret: Pikorua - Book 1 (29 page)

They
unloaded my stretcher though I didn’t understand why they had not directed me
to walk. I’d been up out of bed before, my body sometimes responding to
commands from other people. I had no control over when, or if, it would
cooperate, but often it just did. It seemed as if someone else had a remote
control to my physical form. I hadn’t been able to do it of my own will. Cade
held me every day, and it killed me not being able to force my arms to return
the affection. It took a toll on him. Dark shadows haunted his eyes, and he continued
to lose weight. Depression came to collect another victim, and I worried about
him. The tears he shed were often on the heels of long remorseful monologues where
he begged me for the forgiveness I wasn’t able to give. He needed me, and I continued
to fail him.

When
the EMT’s rolled me inside the building and placed me in a bed, I realized they
had moved me to a mental facility. The room resembled a bedroom with a twin bed,
and a cot sat off to the side. Cade’s duffle bag rested on it, and I wondered
if he planned to stay with me.  Two men came in and did a brief physical exam. They
talked about normal MRI’s, and unremarkable CT’s, and typical ECG’s, but I
didn’t remember having any of those things done to my body. The doctors asked
me questions, but I had no answers for them. The physicians picked up my limbs,
and let go, watching them fall limply back into place. When they commanded me
to lift my arms, my body responded, shocking me as usual. My traitorous form
did everything the clinicians told it to do, but thoroughly ignored my requests.
I pondered the secret, deciding they must have found the remote. The two men
motioned for Cade to follow them outside after they finished the assessment, apparently
either pleased or baffled by what they discovered. The sentiment on their faces
remained unreadable.

Cade
came back in sometime later, and he wore the same indecipherable mask. He sat
on the edge of my bed, as he so often did, and held my hands. “I believe you
are in there. The doctors think you are too. They called it a dissociative disorder,
Ellia, coupled with post-traumatic stress disorder. There is hope they can help
you, baby, just hang in there, and remember how much I love you.” He touched my
cheek and continued to talk as he did every day.  Sometimes he read books out loud,
and I enjoyed that too. 

“I
have another update for you,” he said, one afternoon, but his words confused me,
not remembering any other updates. “Your mom is home, and she’s doing better
now. She wants to come and see you.”
My mother? What happened to my mother
and why is this the first I am hearing of it?  
My body’s eyes closed on
their own, and I left again.

The
next time awareness came, a woman stood in my room looking at me. She had brown
curly hair and little square glasses that framed her big brown eyes. She appeared
young, probably just a little older than me. I deemed her pretty, in a nerdy
way, and she presented no sense of threat—even when I saw her with Cade.

“Hi
Ellia,” she said, her voice soft and sweet, making me like her at once. “My
name is Doctor Hannah Martin, but you can call me Hannah. I intend to stop by
and see you every day for a little while, if you don’t mind. Your friend, Cade,
is nearby, so don’t be scared. The first thing we want you to understand, is no
one will hurt you anymore. You are safe here.” She talked on and on for a long
time, explaining the disorder the doctors thought I had. It made sense, but the
task of curing it seemed daunting. I’d lost all ability to communicate.

The
days turned into weeks. Spring would arrive before long. Hannah arrived every
day as promised, and Cade stuck by me faithfully. Sometimes when I came around,
I’d see him working on a computer, brows furrowed, looking serious and focused.
I wondered what he might be doing. Other times he would be on the phone, but
with whom, I couldn’t tell. The conversations made no sense. Many times I woke to
his head, or his hand, on my tummy, sleeping. Though I wished for the ability
to touch him, nothing happened. Using all my concentration, I’d will him to
command my body to return his affections, but he never did. Frustration at my
condition set in, and I wanted out of my safe corner. Cade, who still struggled
with his emotions, needed my comfort.  I hoped Hannah took time to talk to him,
too.

My
breakthrough came one morning while Cade lay asleep with his head on my abdomen
again. I tried to force my dominant hand to move, and I concentrated so hard, I
thought my skull would explode. And then I did it. My hand moved off the bed
and touched Cade’s stubbly face. I studied his features with my touch, and he
awoke. He didn’t respond though, and he didn’t speak, just stayed where he was
and let me touch him. I wiped away the tear that fell from his eye. I felt myself
slipping away though, and it made me angry. With no choice, I let go of the
control, and my hand fell limply off of his face and back down onto the white
linen. “Don’t go,” he whispered. “I need you so much, Ellia, please don’t go.”
But I did anyway.

When
I returned, he was sitting up in a chair reading to me again. I realized I was
able to turn my head toward him and look at him with deliberate purpose.  He
glanced up at me and it was if we were truly looking at each other for the
first time since he’d rescued me. He smiled at me, and I grinned back, without
even trying. It was amazing. He got up and scooted his chair closer. He took my
hand in his, and I squeezed it. Joyousness filled me as butterflies flapped in
my tummy. I moved my other hand and grabbed his forearm, afraid if I let go of
him, I would slip away again. His trepidation about what to do next, seemed
obvious.  He was anxious, if he spoke a spell might be broken, and I could
disappear again. I tried to speak. “C … Ca … Ca,” I attempted to say, but my
throat was dry and the words were hard to form. When he leaned down and kissed
me, the memory of my father eating his own fingers flashed inside my mind. One
of the black wicked things escaped the blanket. I began to cry, causing me to
retreat to my safe corner, all control lost again; the darkness taking over as
consciousness faded away.

I
came to again in the middle of the night. The little light over my bed was on,
and I could see Cade on his cot, sleeping with his arm thrown over his face. The
tattoo of my initials inside the angel wings was visible, and I longed to hold
him. My mind flooded with memories of high school, and his music, and his
death. It was another creepy crawly from under the blanket, but I didn’t run
away; I let the sad emotions fill me up again, and I cried for the millionth time
over losing Cade when I was seventeen. A part of me understood, it was the last
break down I would endure over his fake death. I was ready to move on from the
past, forgive him, and love him for the man he became, not the boy he was. I reached
up and took a sip of water on my own. What Hannah had been telling me for
weeks, started to make sense. I had to confront my demons and conquer them if I
wanted to get better. Vowing to pull one from under the blanket every single day
until there remained no reason to flee, I went back to sleep on my own terms.

By
the end of the week, I had most things uncovered. I had full control of my
body, and a million questions that Cade still refused to answer. When Agent
Rodriquez came into the room, I learned the fate of my father.

I
could hear Cade arguing with Rodriquez in the hallway. “No, Lucas, I don’t want
you interrogating her. She’s fragile and talking about what happened might set
back her recovery.”

“I
understand your concerns, but we have a job to do. This case needs to be
closed, and we need her testimony to nail Camerson. Even though Meyers is dead,
Camerson poses a threat to you, personally, because of your father, and to her,
because she’s a surviving witness. Do you want her to have to keep living in
fear?”

“Of
course not, but it’s too soon.”

“No,
it’s not,” I said, standing in the doorway. “Come in Agent, and I will tell you
everything.” Cade opened his mouth to protest, but I held up my hand. “I need
to do this. Hannah said I have to face all of it to recover, so that’s what I
intend to do.”

Agent
Rodriquez motioned for Agent Fattel, one of the original agents from when I was
in protective custody. “Do you remember Agent Fattel?” he asked me, and I
nodded. “She will sit in with us if you don’t mind.”

“That
is fine.” The four of us went into the room. I sat on the bed while Cade stood
by the window, looking sullen with his arms crossed. The agents sat at the
small table with notepads and recording devices ready. “Where should I start?”

“Start
at the cabin,” replied Rodriquez.

I
relayed my version of events and then looked at Cade. “How did you get out? I
assumed you were inside when they set the place on fire.”

“I
broke the glass walk-out and jumped over the railing.”

“They
handcuffed you. Did you get hurt when you fell?” I asked, looking him over for
injuries I might have missed.

“Just
a dislocated shoulder and a few scrapes and bruises—nothing serious. I walked
down the mountain until I came to another cabin. The people there called for
help.”

“What
happened next, Ellia,” said Rodriquez, trying to keep me on track.

“Camerson
and I struggled in the car, and he knocked me out. When I woke up, I was in a
building.” I talked for a long time about the Taser and the whipping. I told
them what they did to my father and what he revealed to me.  The tears had come
back, and I was shaking as I prepared to tell them about the rape. “The last
thing I remember was when the man with Salt-and-pepper hair threw me over a
table and ….”

“Stop,”
said Cade. “No more—not today.” His face reddened with anger and his hands balled
into tight fists. He looked desperate and ready to kill someone.

Rodriquez
regarded him with a look of understanding. “Maybe you should step outside until
we finish.”

I
reached over and touched Cade’s arm. He had tears in his eyes when he stared
down at me. “I’m so sorry, Ellia, I can’t listen to this. I feel so fucking
responsible for what happened to you. The details are killing me.”

“It’s
not your fault. I’ve told you a million times I don’t blame you for anything.
Don’t you think I believe you would die to protect me? We need closure on this
though. I want you here with me when I talk about it but not if you can’t handle
it. You’ve been here for me every step of the way, but you have limits too. If you
need to leave the room, I understand.”

He
stared at me for a long time, his expression torn in confliction. After a few
seconds, he took a deep breath, wiped his face and sat on the bed next to me.
“I’m not leaving you alone. Tell them everything.”

Cade
kept his hand on my back while I sobbed my way through the specifics of my
experience. I could feel the tension in him like a hot wire. Once Rodriquez and
Fattel finished with their questions, they left us alone. The second the door
shut, he pulled me into his arms and held me for a long time while his silent
tears soaked my shoulder. Once he gained composure, I asked. “How did you find
me? What happened to my dad and Camerson? Are the men who raped me still out
there?”

“Are
you sure you want to keep talking about this?” He blew his nose.

“Yes,
let’s just get it over with once and for all.”

“When
I got back to the field office, our people already had a solid lead on where they
held Chief Meyers. We assumed it was where they had taken you. Camerson was
gone by the time we arrived on sight, and your dad …” He hesitated, watching me
for a reaction.

“I
heard you and Rodriquez say he’s dead. Tell me what happened.”

“He
hung himself, El. I was searching for you and never saw the body, but the team
informed he had fashioned a noose out of a leather whip. I would have to read
over the reports to see if the man you described as the rapist is among the
dead or in custody. We didn’t know who had assaulted you when we found you.”

“I
hope he’s dead. He’s a sadistic mother f ….” I shuddered at the thought he
could still be alive. “Will I have to testify against him or Camerson?” The
idea terrified me. Essentially, I’d be a target for that monster again, at
least until after the trial.

“The
FBI hasn’t told me anything, yet. Rodriquez is in charge of this case, and I’m
privy to limited information at this point. I’ve been doing consultation work on
other cases since we’ve been here, but Director James is keeping me out of the
loop on the Camerson case until my disciplinary review is complete. Lucas
allowed me to come along on the raid, or I wouldn’t have been there when they
found you. He might end up in suspension himself for allowing me to be there.”

“I’m
sorry. I never wanted you, or anyone else, to get in trouble or lose your job.”

“Don’t
worry about it. I don’t think they’ll fire me, and even if they do, I guess I
don’t care. We have plenty of money to last until I figure something out. The
important thing is for you not to get anxious about any of it. If you are
called to testify, we will deal with that when the time comes.”

“Will
he come after us? You said this was over, but is it really?”

“Ellia,
in this moment, my only concern is getting you well. I understand your lack of
faith in me, and the FBI, but I need you to stay calm. As I said, we’ll take
each thing as it comes.”