False Regret: Pikorua - Book 1 (9 page)

“We
checked in as a married couple, Ellia. Don’t you think it would look suspicious
if I asked for two beds? Don’t worry, I will sleep on the floor,” he said
moving past me, putting my bag on the old saggy bed. “I am going to walk across
the street to that pharmacy and get you something for your fever. Do not, under
any circumstances, open that door for anyone.” He pulled his pistol out of his
shoulder holster. “Keep this near you and use it if needed. I will be right
back. Lock the door behind me.” He didn’t know I’d never shot a pistol, and the
thought made me giggle. I was the daughter of a cop and had never fired a gun; that
seemed hilarious to me in my delirium.

He
went outside. I put the pistol on the night stand and removed the mucus filled helmet,
tossing it to the floor. It rolled away and stopped by the chipped leg of the
sticky table on the far wall. I sat on the edge of the mattress and removed my shoes.
The need to vomit hit me again, and I made it to the toilet just in time to expel
the bile left in my empty stomach. Dry heaves shook me, and when they finally
subsided, I collapsed on the filthy yellow floor. I heard someone come into the
motel room and fear embraced me. I was so weak it scared me, knowing I would
not be able to fight off a flea.  

I
got to my feet, trying to walk back to the bed, hoping to get to the gun before
the intruder, but I tripped on an imaginary crack and fell forward. Cade was
quick, dashing across the small space to catch me before I hit the stained
carpet. He picked me up like a little girl and put me in the bed before
retrieving a glass of water and a couple wet washcloths. The first one, he used
to clean the snot and puke from my face and neck. Then he placed a cold rag on
my forehead which made me shiver harder. He opened the medicine and poured a dose
of liquid Motrin down my throat, followed by another of Tylenol, piggy backing
the two drugs to break my fever efficiently.  

He
set a box of Kleenex down next to me. “We need ice,” he said. “The machine is right
outside, so I won’t be far. Stay in the bed.” I watched him put the pistol in
his holster then head out the door. He returned so fast, it was like he never
left. Cade added water to the ice in the bucket, and then he sat on the edge of
the bed, dipping the wash cloth and putting in on my forehead. I fell asleep.

When
I woke, there was light coming in through the crack in the curtain, and I was
soaking wet with sweat. I pushed up to a sitting position, trying to get my
bearings. It took me a minute, but I finally remembered where I was and why.
Matt
,
was all I could think, and the tears were hot on my cool face. I tried to cry without
sound, but the nasal mucus was choking me. The sobbing made it worse.

Cade
was on the floor sitting with his back against the bed, his head tipped resting
on the edge of the mattress, sleeping. I rolled to the opposite side of the
bed, not wanting to disturb him. Guilt ate my guts as I lamented. Matt had
always deserved better than me, and now he was dead—because of me. He was the
first person I had allowed inside my empty heart after Cade Cantrell had carved
it out so thoroughly. He was gone forever, and it was my fault for letting him stay
with me at the motel. I should’ve forced him to leave, but I was selfish and
weak. I’d never forgive myself.

So
caught up in my self-loathing and grieving, I didn’t even feel Cade take a seat
on the edge of the bed, my own sobs rocking it enough to mask the sensation. He
touched my arm, and I jumped, startled by his touch. I sat up, and he handed me
a wad of tissues. I wiped the snot and tears from my face.  

“Why
did they kill him? He had nothing to do with any of it. Matt was a good man,
the best, and he didn’t need to die. It’s my fault. I should be dead, not him,
not my Matt.” I put my head in my hands and resumed the weeping.

Cade
took his hand off of my arm but spoke in a soothing tone. “It’s not your fault,
Ellia. None of this mess is your fault. You don’t deserve this and neither did
he. I am sorry about your friend. I truly mean that.”

“He
was more than my friend!” I nearly screamed. “That man loved me! He loved me
like you never did!”  Cade made no reply, and I turned away from him, burying
my face in the pillow to muffle my raucous moans. I fell asleep again.

The
next time I woke, Cade was in a chair looking at the floor, lost inside his own
head. I studied him for the first time, without the threat of immediate danger
hanging around me. He had an edgy hardness about him that had never been there
when he was young. Something had gone missing from those beautiful
eyes--empathy, compassion, love? I could not be sure. A stone reproduction of
him would’ve radiated more warmth.

“What
happened to you, Cade? Why are you here? Why did you make me believe you were
dead?”  I choked up again, as the memory of holding his bullet riddled body
overtook me again.

He
lifted his eyes to meet mine and took a deep breath as if getting ready for a
monumental dive. “It was the only way to keep you safe. Don’t think for a
second I didn’t agonize over that choice and don’t ever think you were the only
one that suffered for it.” He stood up and cleared his throat as he paced the
room. “I came into information that put me and everyone I knew, including you,
in grave danger, and I wouldn’t risk your life, Ellia. Every day since, I have
been trying to right the wrongs done to my family and me. I had two choices to
achieve that goal, join my father’s motorcycle club and exact revenge on those
that deserved it or join law enforcement and do things the correct and legal way.
I chose the lawful path.  Leaving you, my music, and my whole identity behind,
seemed the safest way to accomplish this task. Since joining the FBI, I’ve been
mostly undercover, and it’s all geared toward taking down your dad. He is the
root of every fucking thing that has gone wrong in my life, and I plan to make
him pay for it.”

I
started to speak, but he put his hand up to stop me. “Just let me explain, and
then you can ask all the questions you want.” He ran his hands through his hair
and sat down in the chair again. “I insinuated myself deeper into your dad’s
crime organization to ensure I got assigned to your abduction. The purpose was
to protect you. It was no easy task convincing my boss to allow me to pursue
that avenue. Knowing our history, he wanted me as far from you as possible.  He
was doubtful I could handle it and might end up risking the entire operation. To
be honest, I didn’t think it would be so hard to see you again. I was foolish
enough to believe …” His hands formed fists, and he crossed his arms, looking
tortured as a scowl sat on his face. “It tore me up inside to watch that
fucking bastard hurt you, and even worse, when I had to lay a hand on you
myself. Trust me, I’ve done despicable things in my life, Ellia, but that was
the worst. I couldn’t do it anymore. Director James was right--I could not follow
through with my objective. My cover is shot to hell, and I may have jeopardized
several years of effort.” He seemed angry at me for screwing up his life’s work.

“I
wish I could say I was sorry for fucking up your job, Cade, but that was your
decision. Maybe you should’ve stayed out of it like your boss said. I don’t
need you, and I haven’t for a long time now.” It was a complete untruth, but my
anger resurfaced to block out everything else.
How dare he fault me for
this!

He
looked at me and understanding dawned on him. “I am not blaming you--that’s not
what I meant. I am frustrated because I was so damn close to getting closure,
but I don’t want it at your expense.” He exhaled again. “I’m sorry.”

I
didn’t know how to respond.
Is he sorry for hurting me emotionally, or physically,
or both
?  I couldn’t process his words. They were fragile things that
didn’t seem to have any meaning. I still didn’t understand how he could walk
away and leave me. There had to have been another way, yet he chose to just … go.

 I
still had many questions, but they felt like bees buzzing inside my head, the
swarm too large to know what to pull out first.
What the hell did my dad do
to him on a personal level? What is my dad’s involvement in a crime
organization?
I didn’t have the energy to ask anything.  The image of
Matt’s brain matter smeared on the wall, and my culpability in that act,
blocked my curiosity for the moment. The bawling came upon be again—I had no
control over myself.  Cade went into the bathroom and left me to cry without
audience. The old version of him would have comforted me, wanting to resolve my
tears, not hide from them. I was more alone than I had ever been.

“Where
is my mom and brother?” I asked, when he returned to the room.

“I
don’t know, and that is the truth. I tried to get information from Dacks, but he
told me to stick to my own project. It takes a significant amount of time to be
trusted within a criminal operation, and I hadn’t been with them long enough to
be privy to any other details. The FBI can’t locate them, either.”

The
tears came hard again. “Do you think they are dead?”

He
exhaled and rubbed his chin while leaning on the wall. “I hope not. That’s the
best answer I can give you. Gordon and I had orders not to kill you, at least
not right away, so I can only assume if Dacks has your mom and brother, it’s
under the same directive.”

The
thought of them suffering, not having any of Cade’s protection, made me sick. My
stay at that cabin would have been a million times worse if he hadn’t been
there. “This is all so wrong—so unfair. I have a threadbare relationship with
my father, and I can only assume it’s the same for my brother. My mother hates
him. I don’t understand why these people would target us. We obviously mean nothing
to my dad, so all of this seems cruel and pointless.”

“They
are desperate men and will stop at nothing to get what they want. The fact
remains, your father does keep in contact with all of you, albeit not much.
Dacks is hoping to round up enough clues to find him; that’s all he wants from
any of you. Why don’t you have a relationship with your mom or Sam?”

I
could tell him the truth, but I didn’t bother. He didn’t need to know I had cut
ties, for the most part, with everything from the past, including my family. Reminders
of him around me were like termites eating away the wall around my heart. My mom
and brother were there, back then, through all of it, and seeing them was still
difficult. I doubted this new Cade would understand or have an ounce of
empathy. He’d just see it as weak and pathetic, so I stayed quiet. He sat down at
the small table and didn’t push me for a response.

 I
was as emotionally sick as physically ill, and the need to retch took hold
again. I jolted for the bathroom, stubbing my toe on the door frame and crying
out as I hobbled to the toilet. Hot bile burned my throat as I dry heaved over
the porcelain. I’d had nothing in my stomach since the coffee and eggs at the
cabin. It seemed a lifetime ago. The fever was back with a vengeance, and it kept
climbing as my body aches heightened.

“Ellia,”
Cade said, lifting me off the floor. “We need to get you to the doctor.”

“There’s
nothing they can do.” I wanted to fall into the arms of sleep—or death. “It’s the
flu. I have to ride it out, but, right now I’d rather just die.”

He
helped me to my feet and back to the bed. I opened my eyes when the medicine
cup touched my lips, followed by water. The icy cloth was back on my forehead
as my thoughts spun around in a jumbled haze.  As I was dozing off, his phone
beeped. I tried hard to listen to what he was saying, but slumber stole me away
from reality.

When
I woke next, the only light was near the door. It was nighttime, but that didn’t
seem possible.
Did I sleep the whole day away?
 When I sat up, there was
another man in the room, and I didn’t see Cade. I was confused as I muffled the
scream in my blankets--the man was asleep in his chair.  My darting eyes
scanned the area like a frightened animal as I slid to the edge of the bed and contemplated
my escape route. Cade came out of the bathroom and saw my expression of terror.

“It’s
okay,” he said, sitting on the bed next to me. “He’s with me. That’s Special Agent
Roberts. We are transporting you to a safe house at daybreak, and you will be
in Agent Roberts custody until further notice. How do you feel?” He touched his
hand on my forehead to check for fever. “Seems normal at the moment. You’ve
been asleep a long time.”

“I’m
a little better, but I’m still tired.” As if I were a helpless child, he put me
back under the covers, tucking them around me.

“Go
back to sleep. You will be safe, I promise.”  He got off the bed and sat in the
chair near Roberts.  My head was full of questions again. I stared at him, not
able to comprehend all that had happened, and he looked at me too. For a single
fleeting moment, that special connection we’d always had, flared between us.  He
tore his gaze away first, though, reminding me what we had remained nothing
more than a memory. Neither of us would ever be the same.  I turned away to
hide my tears from him.

***

Sam
was in the audience the night of the talent show, and he witnessed the big kiss
at the end of Cade’s performance. He went straight to our mother and blabbed about
my new boyfriend, news she would not appreciate.  My mom had never remarried,
and she worked a lot of hours as a real estate agent to support us. She loved
her work, though, so she wasn’t bitter about her job. Her boyfriend, Randy, also
took up a considerable amount of her time. She was rarely ever home, but when
she was, she liked to prove she was still in charge.