Read False Regret: Pikorua - Book 1 Online
Authors: Angela Reid
I
had never considered Will being there. The kiss was pretty telling, and I
realized how insensitive I’d been. I had gotten thoroughly caught up in Cade’s
song, and it had touched me so deeply, no one else mattered in that moment. I was
embarrassed all over again by my actions and could only imagine the rumors
circling the mill.
“Sam,
I didn’t mean to hurt Will’s feelings. It was a spontaneous instant. I will
apologize to him, but in the future, you need to talk to me first, not mom. I
don’t rat you out when I see you doing questionable things. Your choices are
yours to make, and I let you deal with the consequences. You still get good
grades and play sports, so I know you are doing okay. I leave you alone. Have
the same respect and faith in me, all right?”
“Yeah,
I hear ya. I hope you didn’t get in too much trouble,” he said sheepishly.
“Not
too much--more of a lecture than anything, but now she wants to meet him so we
are stuck having dinner with her and Randy tomorrow night. I need you to be
there, too, since you caused all of this. Besides, it’s always great entertainment
watching you make Randy feel uncomfortable.” I laughed.
“No
way,” he said. “I can’t stand that jerk. What a snore. I still don’t get what mom
sees in him. At least dad was fun.”
“Yeah,
well, dad may have been fun, but he’s also a liar and a cheater, not exactly
good marriage material. He hasn’t been much of a father since their divorce,
either,” I reminded him.
“I
guess. But I can do without Randy harshing my mellow, so I’m out. Jeff and I
have plans anyway.”
“Well,
be careful. Good night,” I said leaving his room, no longer mad at him. I went
back to my own bedroom and texted Cade, telling him what happened with my mom.
He was more than willing to meet her and promised to be on his best behavior.
Dinner
the next evening was a nightmare in the beginning. My mother was less than
gracious. After introductions, she started asking him all sorts of personal questions,
with Randy at her side to feed them to her.
“So
why did you move here?” she asked.
Cade
nervously looked at me. It was difficult for him to talk about his life, even
with me. Sharing his tragic past with strangers was like trying to squeeze
water out of a rock. I could also tell he was contemplating a fib, knowing my
mom probably didn’t know about his father and mother. I threw caution at him
with my gaze. We lived in a small town, and she was bound to hear the truth, eventually.
Besides, he had nothing of which to be ashamed. Just because his dad had done
wrong, didn’t mean he had. I was relieved when he was honest.
“My
dad was in a motorcycle club in Detroit, and he committed a crime. He is currently
in prison, probably for life. My mom is deceased, so my aunt agreed to take me
in until I finish high school.”
“What
did he do?” asked Randy, munching on the cheese and crackers my mother had prepared.
I hated the way he chewed with his mouth open, and I fought the urge to smack
him for his invasive question.
Cade
hesitated again. “I might as well just tell you,” he began. “It’s on public
record. He killed a man.” My mom and Randy exchanged a look.
“What
happened to your mother?” she asked. I wanted to strangle them both.
“She
committed suicide,” he said, and I took his hand. He looked completely helpless
and uncomfortable.
“That’s
enough, Mom. His family is not why he’s here. It’s personal and has nothing to
do with him and me. You guys are being rude.”
She
appeared chastised. “You are right, Ellia,” she said. “I apologize to you,
young man. We just want to get to know you. I am terribly sorry about your
loss. It must be so difficult without either of your parents. I hope your aunt
is treating you well.”
“She
is, thank you, Mrs. Meyers,” lied Cade. I knew the truth. His family ignored
him and tried to pretend like he wasn’t even there. They held his father’s
brutal sins against him. They blamed his dad for the death of his mother, their
blood relative. Cade admitted to me he didn’t believe it was suicide. According
to him, his mom was a kind, selfless soul, who would never put her family
through such pain. He was convinced she’d been murdered, but by who, or why, he
couldn’t be sure. This wasn’t information I intended to discuss with my mom and
Randy.
“So
I hear you are a musician,” said Randy. “I play a little guitar myself. What
are your plans after high school?”
“I
love making music. I was in a band back in Detroit, and we made a demo that got
picked up by a label. But I had to move before we could finalize the deal. I’m probably
the biggest idiot in the world, but I didn’t want to throw away my senior year
on the hope that we would make it big. It is a risky business. I plan to finish
high school and go to college in case things don’t pan out in the future with my
music, professionally. I could do both if I was still in the city, but that’s
not how the cards played out, so here I am,” he said.
“What
do you intend to study in college?” My mother pressed on with her inquisition.
“Well,”
started Cade, “Just to be clear, I will always try to pursue my music, even if
it’s not with my current band. In college, I hope to major in music as well as
business.”
“Do
you really think you can find a job using that degree if your dreams of being
famous don’t work out?” she asked. “What if you had a wife and family to support?”
I shot her a death glare.
Cade
laughed. “Mrs. Meyers, it’s not about being famous, it’s about doing what I
love to do. But, if I had a wife and family to support, believe me, I would dig
ditches if that’s what I had to do to support them. I have my priorities in
order, don’t worry about that. I would never make the people I love go without,
just to chase a dream.” It was clear my mother was softening once he said those
words. I wanted to die of embarrassment. Cade was irresistible, though.
The
rest of the evening went well, and he had both my mom and Randy under his spell
by the time he left. I walked him to his motorcycle after he said goodbye.
“You
never cease to amaze me,” I said, wrapping my arms around his neck.
“What
do you mean?” he asked smiling.
“You
know exactly what I mean. They started out hating you, and now they love you. And
so do I.” I let those secret words slip, without meaning to say them out loud.
He
looked seriously at me, and with no hesitation he said, “I love you too.” He
kissed me, but then pulled back to look at me again. “Your mom loves you. She just
wants what’s best for you. Don’t be too tough on her. I had to learn the hard way;
there may not be time for forgiveness and goodbyes. Sometimes people leave without
giving you the chance to say everything that needed to be said.” The sadness on
his face tore at my heart. I hugged him harder.
“You
are the most amazing person I have ever known, Cade Cantrell. Your mom is proud
of you, and your dad is too. Even if they are not with you, physically, I know
they are pleased,” I whispered in his ear, and then trailed my tongue down his
neck.
He
shivered, and it excited me. “I should go,” he said but didn’t let go of me
right away. “Maybe I should trade my bike in for a car soon, huh? It’s getting awfully
cold.”
“Yes,
a car with a big backseat so we can snuggle.” I ran my chilled hands under his
shirt and touched his warm, soft skin. He moaned and his lips found mine again.
We both knew it was time to say good night.
“I’ll
call you tomorrow.” He put on his helmet and climbed on his bike.
I
hugged him again. “Good night. Love you.”
“I
love you too, Ellia,” he said. I watched him drive off and missed him at once.
I
woke in the motel room feeling much better. The fever was only slight, and the
body aches were bearable. I sat up, looking for Cade. He wasn’t there, but Agent
Robert’s was standing by the door observing me. “Where’s Cade?” I asked,
wiping the sleep from my eyes.
“Agent
Cantrell went to get you something to eat. He will return shortly,” said the agent,
not engaging in any open ended conversation.
“Can
I take a shower?” I wasn’t sure what they would allow me to do. Being in their
custody felt much like being kidnapped.
“Yes
Ma’am,” he replied, face stoic. Not saying anything else to the serious looking
black man guarding the door with his cleanly shaven head and neatly groomed
goatee, I found my bag and headed for the bathroom. The basics were in there, a
change of clothes, a toothbrush, a hairbrush, and a small bottle of shampoo and
conditioner. The shower, hot and steamy, soothed me, and I stayed in a long time,
washing my hair twice to remove the grime I imagined nestled in there. My only
wish in that moment, was for my mind to be as clean as my body.
Thoughts
of Matt lingered and when it became too much, I shut the pain down,
concentrating on a crack in the fiberglass tub or a moldy spot on the shower
curtain. When the emotion threatened to bubble up, I pushed it away with great
force, refusing to replay that horrific scene again. I had to learn to deal
with it, and I had to get answers from Cade. There was no going back, but I had
no idea how to move forward. I didn’t have a clue how long the FBI would keep
me in custody.
Where is my mom? Where is Sam?
The questions begged
inside my head.
When
I emerged from the bathroom, Cade was sitting at the motel table with Agent
Roberts, both eating a McDonald’s breakfast. He stood up and looked me over for
signs of lingering illness. Though I hadn’t bothered even pulling the brush
through my tangled hair, he said, “You must feel better. You look better.”
“I
probably smell a lot better now, too.” Cade grinned and shrugged his shoulder.
It was such a ‘young Cade’ gesture it ripped at my heart. God, how I still
missed that boy.
“I
got you some food.” He motioned for me to sit in his chair, and he moved to the
edge of the bed. “It’s not the most nutritious but will suffice.”
I
took his offer and sat down across from Agent Roberts. I was so famished that
my stomach cramped as I swallowed the first bite. I moaned and clutched my
stomach.
“Just
take small amounts,” said Cade, watching me with scrutiny. “It’s been days
since you kept down any food.” I did what he suggested and followed each nibble
with a sip of the water he provided. After a few bites, an image of Matt
scrolled across my mind, and the nausea returned. Unable to eat anymore, I
pushed the breakfast sandwich away from me.
I
looked at Cade. “What is going on now? Where are we going? I have a job, and
family, and friends, whom I need to contact. I have to see about …” I stopped
short, not able to mention Matt’s funeral arrangements out loud. It made it too
real. He really was gone. Quiet tears fell again. “How am I supposed to drop
my life? What will I have to return to if I survive this?”
“You
don’t have a choice if you want to stay alive, Ellia. You saw what happened to
Matt. Anyone you might associate with could be in potential danger. We can’t
force you to remain under our protection, but it’s the optimal decision for you
and those you care about,” said Cade. “We have already contacted your place of
employment. We’ve made them aware of minimal details about your detainment, but
they were assured you are safe and will return when possible. We can contact whoever
you require.” He spoke to me as if I was a stranger.
“Cade,
I can’t just NOT go to my job for an unspecified amount of time. They won’t
hold my position indefinitely. I have a house and a car payment, plus a host of
other bills. How can I possibly miss that much work? My savings account is not
adequate to cover more than a month or two at best. Matt’s funeral …” I nearly
choked out the last words. The tears kept coming, and I wiped my eyes on a
McDonald’s napkin, the coarseness like sandpaper on tender flesh.
“If
you need financial assistance, Miss Meyers, we have programs available to help
you. We are offering our protection to you merely as a courtesy. You are not
technically in our custody,” said Agent Roberts, no emotion on his face. “You retain
the legal right to decline our services, but as Agent Cantrell explained, you
may be risking your life, as well as others, by doing so.”
I
didn’t know what to say. I didn’t want to see anything happen to anyone else.
Matt’s demise consumed me with guilt, and I excused myself to the bathroom, not
wanting to break down again in front of Cade and the devoid personality of
Agent Roberts.
As
I sat on the toilet seat for nearly an hour, letting the wet pearls of pain drain
like waterfalls down a mountainside, I was fighting the urge to throw up again,
knowing this time it wasn’t the flu; it was heart sickness. I’d been there
before, when I thought Cade died.
A
sharp rap on the door startled me. “Ellia,” said Cade. “If you are coming with
us, we need to move. Agent Roberts has a vehicle waiting.” He sounded robotic and
cold as if I was nothing to him. He treated me as his job, not a real person.
And
isn’t that what you are to him now—just a job? Don’t ever fool yourself into
believing he cares about you, Ellia. He never did and he never will.
My
inner voice was right, I was a means to an end for Cade Cantrell and nothing
more. I blew my nose and decided I didn’t want to be a ward of the FBI or
anyone else. I would just disappear on my own.
“Leave.
I’ll take my chances on my own,” I said through the door. Terror at the thought
of being left without any protection gnawed at my nerves, but I couldn’t bear
being around Cade anymore.
“Ellia,”
he growled, his monotonic tone replaced by anger. “Don’t be stupid. You are
staying in custody even if I have to tie you up and drag you the car. This
isn’t just about you, so stop being so fucking selfish.”
“I
am the selfish one?” I screamed through the cheap bathroom door. “You take the
blue ribbon and the grand champion trophy in that department.” I was so angry I
wanted to punch him. Creating a scene would not help matters or change a single
thing. It would only draw attention to us. My head was all over the place.
“Please,
Ellia.” His tone dropped to a hushed whisper, and I had to strain to hear.
“Just let me keep you safe. I don’t want to fight you on this. We need to leave.”
“Fine,
I will go with you for now. God forbid I be selfish,” I said as I yanked the
door open, nearly causing him to tumble in on me, but catching his balance at
the last second. I brushed past him and shoved my toiletries and dirty clothes
into my bag like they were the enemy. I could sense his eyes on me, but I
refused to look at him. “You still owe me a lot of answers.”
“That
I do, Ellia, and I will try to answer them for you. Right now we need to go,
though. We have a safe house secured and should reach it by this afternoon. We
can talk along the way,” he said, moving to the door and opening it for me. I
could see Roberts behind the wheel of a Suburban. I brushed past Cade once
again and flung my bag, and then myself, into the back seat. To my surprise he got
in next to me. We rode in silence for the first thirty miles before he spoke to
me again. “Where do you want me start?”
I
seized the opportunity. “What really happened that night in Detroit? I went to
watch you play, and then I helped you and the guys tear down the equipment. We
were getting ready to leave when a car rolled up and fired a gun at us. You
stepped in front of me and took two bullets to the chest. I’ve lived with that
guilt for so long, and finding out it was all just a big fat joke on me, makes
me hate you.” The memory was so painful, it stole my breath, and I gasped to
gain control. My hands were clenched into tight fists, and I wanted to beat him
and force him to feel my pain. The tears returned as my recollections came out
of hiding. “You were bleeding so much and … and I … I didn’t know what to do. I
was screaming for help, and your band-mates were there, and then the police.
You were unconscious by then, and blood was running out of your mouth—so much blood.”
I was crying so hard, my shoulders popped up and down with violent effort. “I remember
my dad showed up and drove me to the hospital. We followed the ambulance with
his lights making the world seem all red and blue. The siren screamed—or maybe
it was me, I can’t remember. I waited what seemed like forever, all alone in
that waiting room, but no nurses or doctors ever came to tell me anything. When
my dad returned he told me you were dead.” I sobbed and rammed my fists into my
temples, rocking back and forth, wanting the pain to go away. I still couldn’t
control my emotions, even after ten long years. “But you weren’t dead. This
pain … it’s all for nothing. My entire life is a fucking lie.”
Surprising
me, he pulled me into an embrace and held me while stroking my messy hair.
“Ellia, Jesus, I am so sorry. I didn’t hear until the next day what they told
you. My very first instinct was to run to you, but I was stuck in a hospital
bed with tubes hanging out of my chest. They took my phone away and had people
guarding me around the clock. I was desperate to tell you it was all a lie, but
then I found out the truth. I had to let you believe I was dead. It was the
only way to keep you safe.” Once I stopped shaking, he let go of me and got a
tissue for my river of snot. “It wasn’t easy for me either, I hope you understand
that.”
“Well,
then why, dammit!” I yelled into the space between us. My emotions swung back
into the anger zone. “Tell me this story of yours, Cade. Explain to me how
leaving could’ve been your only choice. Your death left me in a place that was
so dark I never thought I’d recover. It destroyed me. What was so dangerous
that you could ever justify shattering me so completely … huh?”
He
was quiet at first, looking out the window and gathering his words. “My dad was
the president of The Blackballers, a motorcycle club in Detroit. The group was
involved in serious criminal activity--drugs, guns, human trafficking, money
laundering, you name it. The club worked under the Camerson Cartel, an assemblage
of powerful businessmen and politicians who made millions of dollars, on the
side, through illegals prospects. Thomas Camerson headed the crime syndicate,
and he suspected my father’s club of skimming profits. Camerson was angry and
decided to punish my father. He ordered the hit on my mom, at least that’s what
we believed in the beginning.”
Cade
exhaled and pulled his hand through his hair, as if agitated by having to
explain things to me. “My dad, and the club as a whole, were old-school
thinkers. You know, ‘Mess with me but don’t mess with my family,’ type of men.
It was the one line they would never cross in settling scores with their
enemies. Camerson traversed that line and put the club on notice. My dad
wouldn’t stand for it and sought revenge. As cruel as my father might have been
outside the home, he was a good husband to my mom and a great dad. I never even
learned what he did for a living until I was older. He loved my mom and I more
than anything, and someone was going to pay for her death.”
Cade
cleared his throat and continued. “My dad went after Camerson and managed to trap
him alone in a hotel room one night. He tortured Camerson for hours before
killing him slowly. My dad thought the crooked cops he worked with would protect
him, help him cover up the crime, but they didn’t. He was convicted and
sentenced to life in prison. The act set off a war between the club and cartel.
Camerson’s son, Rodney, took over the business, and he went on a head hunt. The
guy started by killing off all the family members of the Blackballers. He had
innocent woman and children kidnapped, tortured, raped, and murdered, sending
body parts back to the club. Unbeknownst to me, I was a huge target for Camerson
Jr. He planned to make my death quite a spectacle to get even with my dad, and
then he’d take my dad out once he felt the suffering was sufficient. My father arranged
to have me sent up north. My mom had a half-sister that no one knew existed, so
he paid her almost a million dollars to take me in and protect me until I
graduated. The police felt I didn’t need true protective custody since I wasn’t
particularly important in the bigger scheme of things. They never even changed
my name, which blows my mind now that I know how sick these people are. Had he
been looking, Camerson could’ve easily found me up north. I didn’t find out the
real reason I was sent to live with my aunt and uncle until after the shooting.”
He
turned to look at me. “I got damn lucky, Ellia, that he was busy with other
things. We could’ve both been killed. When I came back to Detroit to play with
the band, Camerson got word I had resurfaced. Though the Blackballers were
reduced to minimal numbers by then, and my dad was rotting in prison, Camerson
couldn’t resist following through with the last of his vendetta. He came after
me that night.”
Cade
stopped talking and looked out the window again, his mind traveling the road to
the past; the same path I took care to avoid. “When I was in the hospital, the
police, along with the club, decided it was best to let Camerson think that I
was dead. If he found out I survived, he might come after me again. Your dad
convinced me I needed to let you believe the same thing because Camerson
wouldn’t hesitate to kill you, too. I had several choices to ponder. I could go
back up north and hope Camerson didn’t come around, or I could pack up my stuff
and take you on the run with me. Either of those options kept you and your
family in potential danger. I was seventeen with no money and no way to take care
of you, Ellia. I couldn’t stand the thought of ruining your future or costing
you your life. My other choice was to join up with the Blackballers. They were heavily
recruiting to recoup their numbers, and they were biding time before going
after Camerson. Revenge for the murders became the sole purpose of my father’s
club. This thing was never going to end if I took that route. Instead, I decided
to do things the legal way. I made a promise to myself that I would see these
men pay for what they had done. I changed my name while I went to a private college,
and then I joined the police academy. During that time, my dad was murdered in
prison—stabbed through the heart while he slept. His death made me more
determined in my career path, and I was recruited by the FBI to work in their
organized crime division. I took my name back after I was securely inside the Bureau.
When these fuckers go to prison, I want them to know who helped put them there.”