False Regret: Pikorua - Book 1

by Reid, Angela

  My father made no eye contact with anyone and refused to say a single word. I didn’t have time to ponder what he was thinking, though, as a cold touch to the back of my neck, sent my head screaming in agony and locked up all my muscles. My bladder emptied as the electricity flowed through my body, scrambling every electrical impulse in my brain. When the man removed the stun gun from my skin, I went limp in the chair. I felt like I’d just run three consecutive marathons. Just as my mind regained full awareness, Salt-and-pepper did it again, and I flopped around, my wrists and ankles not budging from their confines. My flailing tipped the chair over sideways. The side of my face hit the concrete, but the pain stopped. My strength drained away, leaving me flaccid. Drool ran from my mouth and pooled on the floor as my muscles continued to twitch.

  “Well Bradley, do you have anything to say yet?” he asked. I looked up at my dad, but he was still staring at the far wall, not even acknowledging me.

  “Dad,” I croaked. “Please, just give them what they want.” I begged as the tears mixed with my saliva and my teeth chattered.

  Salt-and-pepper’s hand was in my hair, and he yanked me up with brutal force, setting the chair upright again. I yelped liked a whipped dog. He opened a folded black leather pouch and displayed it on the table in front of me. Inside was an array of instruments. I screamed as unimaginable fear seized me. “Please Dad, oh God, please tell them.” I struggled in my bondage to get away from the macabre tools. Salt-and-pepper took out a set of what appeared to be pliers and then grabbed my hand. My fingers, which I’d never given much thought to before, were about to suffer a horrible fate. “Please don’t,” I begged the heartless man. “Please don’t do that.”

  He didn’t respond, but held my pinkie finger, first, and then tilted his head as if he was considering something. “You have nice hand,” he said before releasing my finger and putting the plier things back. He retrieved another instrument. “We start here—maybe save your fingers, eh?” He stuck the device on the tip of my smallest digit, and before I could comprehend what he was doing, pain seared through my hand as he ripped the entire fingernail out of the nail-bed and held it up to examine. “I enjoy natural nails. So much prettier than fake.” I screamed, the pain so horrific, I wanted to die. He tore out one more before I passed out, my bloody fingertips dripping on the floor.

  When I came to, I was hanging by my wrists from a metal rod, resembling a slab of raw meat. Only my bra and underwear covered my flesh. Salt-and-pepper smiled at me, as if he was glad I would be conscious for whatever he intended for me. He had a long leather whip in his hand, and he snapped it across my back, the pain intense and sharp. The welt swelled at once. Salt-and-pepper continued his assault with three more lashes over my stomach and legs.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I screamed at my father. “How can you let them do this? Dad, please tell them …” The snap of the whip on my chest stole the rest of my words. I looked at Salt-and-pepper and said through clenched teeth. “This is pointless and sick. Torture him for God’s sake. I have nothing to do with this, and he doesn’t care about me, so beating me will not gain you a damn thing, you despicable fucker. Just kill me or let me go; take out your sadistic needs on him!” Salt-and-pepper punched me in the face, and the blood that flew from it, landed on my father, who didn’t seem to be aware. I spit red saliva on the floor as my mind scrambled for a way to reach my dad. “Let me talk to him, please, by myself.”

  Camerson, who I had not realized was still in the room, said, “I see no harm in that. Cut her down, and we’ll give them some alone time.” Salt-and-pepper reached up and released my hands, sending me to the floor where I landed on the cold cement, twisting my ankle. He put me back in the chair and tied me up again. The Germanic beast took his leave with Camerson, and I was left with the heartless being I called my father.

  “Look at me, Dad,” I said as he stared past me. “Look at me and acknowledge me!” I screamed. When he did, it was as if recognition dawned on him for the first time. “Why are you letting them do this? Do you hate me that much? Does money mean more than your own flesh and blood? Where are mom and Sam? Are they dead?”

  “Ellia,” he said his voice hoarse. “I don’t have the cash or the guns, so there is nothing to tell them.”

  “Bullshit, Dad—I am begging you.”

  “At first, I lied, but they found out it was a ruse. After Dacks died in the accident and you disappeared, the FBI rescued your mom and Sam. Camerson got me out of there before they could save me, too. Sam wasn’t in good shape when I last saw him, they had cut his fingers off and he was ill with infection. I’ve heard nothing since then.” He cried then. “I don’t know how to help you, baby girl. It kills me to watch them hurt my family, and I keep hoping the FBI will find us like they did your mom and Sam. Even if I end up dead or in prison, at least this will be over for you, honey. Everything they said about me is true--I am a bad person. I’ve done evil things for money and power, but I always tried to keep you and Sam away from it all. The house you guys came to see me at was not my real home. I bought it under a false name so you would be safe when you visited. You thought I didn’t care enough to have you around much, but that was not the case. My whole life I have tried to shield and safeguard you from my dirty business.”

  “Where are the guns, Dad? How does a person lose something like that?” I asked again, not giving a shit what he claimed.

  “I had them; that part is true, and I intended to run off with both. I went to the Caribbean, and that’s where I was hiding all that time. I had the weapons in a warehouse here in Detroit, and I planned to sell them again to make an even bigger profit. But they disappeared, and so did my entire off shore account. Someone stole it all from me, and I don’t know who to blame. I’ve told Camerson the truth a million times, but he won’t stop. I am as helpless as you, sweetheart.” Something about his eyes warned me not to trust him.

  “Why did you do all this, Dad? Why did you tell me Cade was dead? I don’t understand how you can hurt us all so much.” I asked, wanting answers before we it was too late.

  “When I joined the force, my intentions were good. My first big assignment was to bring down Zachariah Cantrell and his whole illegal operation, but I realized how much money these guys were making. My cop salary was a joke. They offered me a cut for my protection. I took it, and then I approached Camerson, offering the same deal. I am sure the FBI filled you in on all of this.”

  “Who targeted Cade, Dad, was it Camerson or was it you?”

  “To gain your trust, Ellia, I will tell you the truth. I would’ve killed Cade right along with his mother if he’d been home the night I shot her. But he wasn’t there, and I never went looking for him. He was an innocent kid of little interest. Killing Zachariah’s family was not my personal campaign, anyway. I only did it to protect my monetary interests. It was Camerson who couldn’t let the whole thing go after Zach executed his father in retaliation. He found out Zach’s son was back in Detroit, so he put the hit out on him. The kid wasn’t important enough for Camerson to waste resources locating, but since he happened to be in town, he couldn’t resist wiping out the last of Zach’s kin. I won’t lie and say I didn’t know it was happening because I did. Why do you think I was so close to the scene that night? My job was to make sure I wrote it up as a random act of violence. Camerson’s men camped out in the hospital parking lot, waiting for the opportunity to finish Cantrell off if he survived the shooting. The Blackballers, through Zachariah, offered me a generous sum of money to make sure Camerson thought Cantrell was dead. I took the cash, and we hatched out a story.”

  Captivated, I forgot my pain as my father talked. “I’m sorry, Ellia. After I killed Zach’s wife, I heard Cade went to live up north somewhere, but I didn’t know he was in your town. What were the chances of my daughter and Zachariah’s son forming a relationship? Slim. It wasn’t a scenario I had prepared for, that’s for sure, so I handled it the best way I could after the shooting. His death was th
e only means to protect him from Camerson. To safeguard you we made sure you believed it, too, and stayed away from him. Camerson had Zach murdered in prison right after the news of Cade’s demise circulated. The feud was over because there was no one left. I never knew Cade joined the Bureau, and I never suspected the ruthless man working with Dacks was him. He turned out to be nothing more than a gangster, just like his father, the only difference is the badge he holds.” Cade had confessed as much, so the information was not new.

  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.

  Chapter 15

  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 brot
her 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.