Like Father Like Son

 

Chapter 24

“Nigel McKenna! Nigel McKenna! Get your things!”

He heard his name and he heard the instruction but he didn’t move. Three days ago he had been attacked in the shower room; as the inmates punched and kicked him they called him a ‘wife-abusing sissy’. No one had ever beaten him up like that before and as he lay bloodied, battered and bruised in the infirmary, he thought of all the times he had beaten and abused Dorothy, and he cried. He had fractured her ribs twice and broken her arm. He had called her every derogatory name known to man and animal and he had laughed at her when she had cried and begged him to stop.

“Nigel McKenna, I told you to get your things; you’re shipping out today! Come on, man, get a move on!”

“What? Shipping out to where?”

“Just get your things,” the officer said and unlocked the holding cell.

Nigel quickly grabbed his things and followed the officer. They walked out of the isolation section where he had been held for two days for his own protection and into an office. He was told to sign some papers by an officer who sat at a desk typing; he promptly obliged. It felt strange when the officer called him ‘Sir’. It felt even stranger when he turned and looked out of the opened, bar-less window to the freedom beyond. The window was big and Nigel thought he could easily fit through it and escape. The officer stopped typing and studied him for a few moments. Nigel froze as he tried to conceal his thoughts. The officer looked down and checked the papers. He indicated where another signature was required and passed the papers back. Nigel quickly signed. The officer pressed a button and a door opened. A man dressed in a frail flannel shirt and blue jeans walked in. Nigel stared at him as if he were seeing a ghost.

“You’ve been released, let’s go,” the man told him.

“Dad! What are you doing here?”

“We’ll talk later, son. I brought you some clothes. Go change I’ll wait for you outside.”

 

They drove in complete silence. Nigel had so many questions he wanted to ask but each time he tried to formulate them in a logical manner his words failed him. After nearly an hour, they drove into a trailer park and pulled up in front of a trailer. His father turned the ignition off and climbed out of the truck. Nigel followed him into the trailer. He grimaced at the untidiness of the trailer and the stench of stale food, beer, and foul body odor. His father dropped his keys on a cluttered worktop and faced him.

“How could you do what you did to that woman?”

“I didn’t kill her. If I had killed her they wouldn’t have released me, would they?”

“The only reason they released you was because Dorothy phoned the police last night and told them that she was alive and well. She could have stayed hidden and let you rot in jail but she didn’t because she is a good person.”

“She called the police last night? Where has she been all this while and why didn’t she call them sooner?”

“That, my son, is a question that I doubt you’ll ever know the answer to because, if she is as smart as I think she is, you’ll never see her again.”

“We are still married, she is still my wife!”

“Not according to the divorce papers you signed when you were ‘stoned’ out of your mind in the psychiatric ward. She is as free as a bird right now and you, my wife-beating-son, have lost everything.”

“You have the nerve to call me a wife-beater after everything you did to my mother? You hypocritical bast—”

His father’s hand swung back then struck him hard across the face before he could finish. “That is exactly why I have the nerve to call you a wife-beater. I messed up, I did wrong! Look around you son, this is how I live now. I threw away the best woman that I ever knew for cheap thrills and when those thrills got tired of me I ended up here, in a trailer park. I live worse than the hill-billy trailer-trash I used to make fun of. My pride and my arrogance brought me here, the same stupid pride and arrogance I see in you.”

“No thanks to you—”

“Here we go, here we go with the blame-the-father routine,” he dramatically threw his hands in the air, “I see men like you crying into their beers down at Barney’s Shack nearly every single afternoon. Men who always need to blame someone else for the crap in their life. You want to know who to blame for your crap?” He pulled Nigel towards a greasy mirror which hung on the side of a cupboard and held him in front of it, “Blame the man in the mirror.”

In stand-offish silence, Nigel looked at his father’s reflection in the mirror; his father looked at Nigel’s reflection.

“When your mother threw me out, in a way I thought that I was doing you a favor. At least you wouldn’t have to be like me, you could be different,” he shook his head, “You’re worse than me. You knew better! You were right there; you saw how things ended up with your mother and me. You had the ‘blueprint’! You knew what to avoid!”

Nigel turned sharply, “You think I wanted to be a man who beats his wife? You think I didn’t want to make my wife happy—”

“Yes, I think you wanted to be a man who beats your wife and I think that you didn’t give a damn if your wife was happy or not. If you wanted your marriage to work you would have made it work! You would have tried harder! If you treat a woman well she will stick with you through thick and thin. I spoke to your mom and she told me how you spent Dorothy’s money on other women. You made your wife work two jobs while you sat on your fat ass and beat her when you felt like it and took her money when you felt like it. Well now she’s gone and this is your new home.”

“I have a house. I don’t need to stay in this dump.”

“Didn’t your lawyer tell you about the house?”

“He mentioned some rubbish but I didn’t believe him—”

“It’s true, son, the house that your wife paid for has been sold and your car has been repossessed because she stopped paying for it. We tried to get some of the women you’ve been seeing over the years to help you out or put you up but they all refused. Looks like you threw away the only good woman who ever crossed your path and that is something, like me, you’ll have to live with for the rest of your life.” He shook his head and studied his son for a few moments. “So this here dump is now your dump. Welcome to my world, son.”

Taken from Blood Borne Connections

 

 

 

 

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Truths, Lies And Untold Secrets

Blood Borne Connections

U Murder U (Suicide)

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Blood Borne Connections – Chapter 9

DSCN1170[1]

 

Chapter 9

 

Inside Interrogation Room 15 LAPD

 

“Mr. McKenna, can you hear me? Nigel McKenna, I need to know what drugs you took last night,” the doctor on call asked. Pen poised to write, he waited for Nigel to tell him.

Nigel didn’t answer.

“Mr. McKenna, I’m asking as a doctor. Just tell me so that I can fill out my paperwork. I’m not going to report you.”

Nigel heard the voice as he slowly floated back to earth. The effect of the ‘spiked’ Indian hemp he had smoked last night coupled with the sedation the paramedic had administered was fading. He knew that he was sitting down but for some reason he couldn’t feel his legs. He saw his hands searching for his legs but couldn’t feel anything. “Maybe the aliens took them,” a voice mockingly whispered. He looked around the room to see who had spoken but the two men in the room were looking at him, waiting for him to speak.

“Doc, will you excuse us a minute?” Detective Kowalski asked. He walked over to the door, opened it, and indicated with his head that the doctor should leave.

“Detective, I need to fill out my paperwork-”

“Doc I need to find out where this man’s wife is. Go talk to the inspector if you’re not clear on what is more important at this stage, a human life or your paperwork!”

“But-”

“Come back later, Doc,” Kowalski told him as he gently shoved him out and closed the door.    “Now Mr. McKenna, it’s just you and me. My name is Detective Kowalski and I need to know where your wife is. Do you remember what happened to Dorothy?”

“Who?” Nigel asked.

“Dorothy, your wife, Dorothy, where is she?”

“The aliens took her,” Nigel replied, smiled and closed his eyes as he continued to float.

Detective Kowalski kicked at the chair Nigel sat in. Nigel’s eyes flew open as he fell back. He cried out in pain as he hit his head on the wall behind him. Kowalski pulled him up and kicked the chair out of the way. He grabbed Nigel as he tried to back away and pinned him up against the wall. “You’re not so tough now are you? I hear you like hitting women. What say you and me go out back, one on one, right now! You think you can take me on? Or is it just defenseless women that you like to hit?”

“I don’t know where my wife is, the last time I saw her was last night before I went to bed. I went to sleep and when I woke up this morning I saw signs that the aliens-”

“Ah, ah, ah, ah, no bull, I don’t want to hear about your drug induced aliens. Did you hit your wife last night?”

“Last night?”

“Yes last night, did you hit her?”

Nigel frowned as he tried to remember, “Last night?”

“Did she decide that enough was enough and she wasn’t going to put up with you beating her anymore? Did she stand up to you? Is that why her blood is all over your bed sheets? Did you stab your wife to death? Did you dump her body somewhere?”

“What? No! I didn’t stab her!”

“But you beat her?”

“I don’t remember beating her last night.”

“But you remember beating her on other nights?”

“I don’t really beat her, I just give her the odd slap now and then to keep her in line, let her know who the boss is.”

“I hear you like being the boss. According to our records you’ve fractured her ribs, broken her arm, and you beat her whenever you pretty much feel like beating her.”

“I don’t remember beating her last night, in fact I’m sure I didn’t beat her last night, maybe I slapped her the night before but not last night and I didn’t stab her!”

Detective Kowalski pushed him against the wall and turned away from him, disgusted. He had two daughters and the thought of one of them marrying a man like this filled him with dread. He turned back quickly, raised his hand and slapped Nigel across the face. Nigel staggered backwards and he grabbed him and slapped him again. “Is that how you used to slap her in the past to keep her in line? Did you go too far this time?”

The door swung open; both men turned.

“Can I see you out here for a second, Kowalski?” Inspector Carter Goodman said and waited for him to walk out of the room.

As soon as the door closed Kowalski braced himself for what he knew was coming.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Kowalski?”

“Trying to do my job, Sir.”

“By hitting him? By pushing him around? How does that constitute doing your job? Once his lawyer gets here, sees the bruises and talks to him, he can get him to file an assault charge against you.”

“Sir-”

“Listen, don’t you think we have enough trouble with lawyers and journalists accusing us of being violent and in bed with the Mafia? I’m sick and tired of the stories written about the men in blue being just as corrupt as the Mafia and just as brutal as well. I’ve lost a number of good men who made bad choices. I don’t want to lose you, Kowalski, but I won’t stand back and let you do this. As your boss, I’m telling you now, question him with your mouth and not your hands, do you hear me?”

“Yes Sir.”

Ebooks from GLL Publishing available at Amazon, Smashwords etc – Books also available via http://www.gllpublishing.com

Despite all odds: A Dream Fulfilled Part 1

Despite all odds: A Dream Fulfilled Part 2

Truths, Lies And Untold Secrets

Blood Borne Connections

U Murder U (Suicide)

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Blood Borne Connections – Chapter 5

Two Plants

Chapter 5

 

Julius gently picked up his sleeping son and placed him in the crib next to the bed. He quickly glanced at his wife to make sure he had not disturbed her. She was still asleep. He looked down at his son as he slept with one tiny hand rested against his cheek. Julius wondered at the human heart and its propensity, how it could grow to accommodate more love as and when required. He loved this child more than he could have ever fathomed. He touched his son’s hand with his finger and marveled at how his son instantly wrapped his tiny hand around his finger even as he slept. His heart fluttered at what he perceived to be a smile from his son. ‘He knows that I love him’, he thought as he caressed his tiny cheek. “I will always love you, Tyrone,” he whispered as he bent and kissed his son’s cheek.

“I guess it’s going to be Tyrone, then,” Cara said softly as she looked at him, “my dad will be pleased we’ve given his first grandson his name, Tyrone Julius Kempton, I like the sound of that.”

He looked at her and smiled, as always she stirred his heart and took his breath away. “I love you, Mrs. Kempton.”

“I love you too, Julius Maxwell Kempton,” she smiled at him as she stifled a yawn and started to sit up.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting up-”

“Oh no you’re not, the nurse said that you need to rest.” He took off his jacket, hid his gun in the pocket, kicked off his shoes, climbed onto the bed and pulled her gently against him.

“What are you doing?”

“Making sure you rest, close your eyes-”

“Maxwell-”

“Close your eyes, you need to rest.”

“But I’m not really that tired.” She buried her face in his chest as she yawned.

“Baby, I can feel you yawning.”

“How can you feel someone yawning?” She yawned again.

He yawned, “You’re using up all the oxygen in the room and you’re making me yawn as well.”

She wrapped her arms around him, “Talk to me so that I can fall asleep.”

“Are you trying to tell me something?”

“Like what?”

“Ummm, like the sound of my voice sends you to sleep.”

“The sound of your voice makes my senses tingle, it is sexy and soothing; your voice is like a silky kiss on a beautiful summer day and a luxuriously warm drink on a cold winter night.”

“Of all the women in the world I had to fall in love with a beautiful journalist who writes poetry. I remember the first night I saw you, there was this confidence about you, and this inner beauty that I knew I wanted to be in my life.” He looked down at her. Her eyes were closed and she was smiling.

“I’m listening,” she whispered.

“Remember the first, second and third time I asked you to marry me and you turned me down?”

She nodded.

“The day you agreed to marry me was one of . . .”

***

The neighbors heard the screaming, the sound of breaking glass and the banging of a hammer. Juanita Ortega lived in the house next door. She heard the sound of fear and she smiled. As instructed, she waited for five minutes then dialed 911. She told the female operator who answered her call to send the police, paramedics and a fire truck because she didn’t know what the problem was but it sounded like someone was being murdered and she could smell smoke. She couldn’t really smell smoke but she knew that this was the only way to get an immediate response. Last week when a young neighborhood girl had been knocked off her bike by a joy-rider, the police and paramedics had been called and it took them twenty-seven minutes to turn up. The fact that the nearest police station was two blocks away and the local hospital was three blocks away made a mockery of the motto ‘Protect and Serve’. Juanita took the latch off the door and went out onto the street where some of the other neighbors had already gathered. No one had made the attempt to get into the house. Then again no one wanted to be accused of breaking-and-entering. A man on Fifth and Strasberg, which was five blocks away, heading in the direction of Pomona, had forcibly gained entrance into the apartment of a female neighbor when he had heard her screaming for help one night. He had kicked the front door open and rushed in swinging a baseball bat in front of him. He saw the assailant beating the woman up and immediately swung at him with the bat. He fractured two of the man’s ribs and knocked out one of his teeth. He was only trying to be a good neighbor but for his reward he was arrested for assault and given a suspended sentence. He lost his job while he was being held in custody and his marriage fell apart because the perpetrator’s lawyer had insinuated the hint of a possible affair between the hero and the victim. The perpetrator who had broken into the woman’s house to rob and kill her, however, spent two weeks in a private hospital and then walked free. There had been a public outcry, people protested at the injustice done to the hero who had only tried to help a neighbor but he didn’t get his job back and his wife moved out of state.

 

People stood outside the house and waited for the law enforcers and paramedics to come. No one made an attempt to get into the house. No one wanted to be a hero.

Inside the house, Nigel McKenna was in a deep state of drug-induced madness. He saw aliens everywhere he looked and, as a result, he ran around breaking things, cussing and screaming that he would kill them. He saw their twisted silver faces in the mirrors on the walls, so he broke the mirrors. He saw their shiny eyes staring at him from the TV screen, so he smashed the TV. He had to destroy them before they destroyed him. They had taken Dorothy and he would not let them take him.

 

Ebooks from GLL Publishing available at Amazon, Smashwords etc – Books also available via http://www.gllpublishing.com

Despite all odds: A Dream Fulfilled Part 1

Despite all odds: A Dream Fulfilled Part 2

Truths, Lies And Untold Secrets

Blood Borne Connections

U Murder U (Suicide)

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Blood Borne Connections – Chapter 4

Blood Borne Connections - book cover

 

Chapter 4

 

He farted. All the pungent gases that had accumulated deep within his bowels were released in one loud bellow. He waited for a brief moment and then did what he loved to do: he inhaled the aroma. He savored the carbonated garlic and refried beans and let his senses wander merrily among the toxic levels of hydrogen sulfide. Even though he knew she hated him farting in bed, he didn’t care. It made him feel exhilarated and alive; like a ‘man’s’ man. He rubbed his large, blotchy red belly then patted it in appreciation for a job well done. He smiled to himself at the thought of her lying next to him and covering her nose or, better still, holding her breath until the rich aroma dissipated. ‘This is indeed a man’s world’, he thought to himself as he held back the laughter that bubbled deep within him. He waited for her complaints and moaning but none came. She didn’t even move. All the years he had treated her mean to keep her keen had paid off with interest. She was now like a little mouse – so anxious for a morsel of cheese that she would do anything. He slept around just like his daddy had done and came home reeking of the evidence and she had given in and stopped fighting and complaining. He took her money and spent it on whatever and whomever he chose and she kept quiet. He had trained her well. He sighed contently. Today she was going to get a loan for him in her name because his credit was bad. He told her that he needed the loan to start a business with a friend in San Diego but in actual fact he was planning to take nineteen year old Tatiana, a girl he had just met, to Disneyland in Anaheim. She had not long arrived from Czechoslovakia and had not yet been to Disneyland. She had said on the night he had met her at the ‘Singles’ bar he often visited that ever since she was little she had dreamed of going to Disneyland and seeing the real Mickey Mouse. So far nothing had happened between them but he figured that if he obliged her and fulfilled her dream, she would have to oblige him and fulfill one of his dreams. He had no qualms about using his wife’s hard earned cash or the money she often borrowed for him and had to pay back in monthly installments, to pay for his extra-marital affairs. As far as he was concerned he and Dorothy had taken wedding vows and the words ‘For richer or poorer’ were read on the day – he literally took the vows, well, those four words, seriously. His wife was currently richer than him (because she worked two jobs whilst he only did one part-time job) and on account of him being poorer she had to take care of him and everything this encompassed. He closed his eyes and thought about Tatiana’s young, firm and nubile body. His breathing became shallow as images of her talking dirty to him in her vibrant Czechoslovakian accented voice and pressing herself seductively against him filled his mind and made his senses twirl. ‘First things first’ he thought to himself as he pushed the images out of his mind and concentrated on what lay ahead. He needed to get his wife up, dressed and off to the bank to get the loan or he could kiss Tatiana goodbye. He braced himself, the smell of the fart had faded, she had no evidence to hold on to and he would do what he always did – deny everything she accused him of.

Why do you have to break wind in bed, Nigel?

“I did no such thing, woman. You’re dreaming. It must have been you that farted while you were asleep.” He would say. It often made him laugh, the way she referred to farting as breaking wind – like it was a gust of fresh air.

You’re snoring again, Nigel.

“Woman, I do not snore, it must be you snoring in your dream. As a matter of fact, you woke me up with your damn snoring just the other day. You know you snore like a farm animal, I’ve told you so many times. Next time I’m gonna use my tape recorder to record your snoring ass.”

Treat her mean to keep her keen was his motto, his way of life. It had paid off over the years and he had no intention of changing. He inhaled deeply, turned over and faced his wife. Slowly he opened his eyes. He knew that he would see her lying next to him with her thick, polyester, flower-printed, old-fashioned nightdress on (which he had purchased from a dollar store as a birthday gift), her headscarf adorned like a hill-billy farmer’s wife and a frown apparent; she was as predictable as the rising sun. He needed her money so he had to be nice today; he smiled and opened his eyes fully. The shock hit him hard as he stared at the sight in front of him, his heart fluttered and his tongue struggled to formulate words. He could barely breathe as he started to shake uncontrollably. “Aliens! . . . Aliens!” He whispered before his mind went blank, darkness descended and he passed out.

***

Julius followed Nurse McKenna down a poorly lit corridor. His hand rested on the butt of his gun, which was tucked into the back of his pants. He had still not made up his mind as to whether or not he could trust her. She had now stopped muttering to herself and walked briskly as one did when they had a sure destination. For some reason he couldn’t imagine that she was on his grandfather’s payroll, but he had seen so many things in his life that nothing surprised him now – nothing shocked him anymore. With each step he took he became more and more anxious at the thought of his wife, Cara, and their baby being held somewhere and used as a bargaining tool. He was sure that no one in his Mafia family knew they were married let alone how important Cara was to his very existence. He knew his grandfather wouldn’t harm Cara or the baby, but he had given up on trying to predict Johnatus and the things he did or the reasons behind the things he did.

“They are in here,” Nurse McKenna said as she stopped in front of a large door. She pressed some numbers on a keypad by the side of the door. “This is our old Intensive Care Unit. It became redundant when the new one was built a couple of years ago. Since then we have put private patients in here or patients who we think need an extra bit of attention. Right now, except for your wife and son, it is empty.”

“Why did you move them here?”

“When I came in this morning your wife said that she felt like she had the flu, really hot and then cold. I could have taken her to another ward but they don’t take babies there and she didn’t want to be separated from your son. I figured that right here would be the best place, plus it’s quiet, warm and safe. I hope you don’t mind? Something kept telling me it was the right thing to do. Anyway, I got her started on some antibiotics and I’ve been monitoring her temperature. She is fine now. Did I tell you that your wife is a lovely lady? She is beautiful and kind and she was so concerned that you would go to room 14, not find her there and panic. She made me promise that I would let you know where they were as soon as you came in. She said you might not believe me but I was to get you alone and call you Maxwell, then you would know that I was telling you the truth because she is the only one you allow to call you Maxwell.” She frowned as if the thought suddenly hit her, “I guess I probably should have mentioned that part earlier, shouldn’t I? Then you wouldn’t have been walking behind me with your hand behind you like you have a gun tucked away back there.”

Shocked at her perception, Julius removed his hand from the butt of his gun. “Is she okay?”

“She is fine, they both are,” she told him as she pushed the door open.

He followed Nurse McKenna through the door and into a spacious, colorful corridor. There were several doors situated along one side of the corridor. Nurse McKenna stopped in front of a door mid-way along the corridor and gently pushed it open. She looked inside and smiled. She held a finger against her lips as she turned and beckoned Julius. He walked quickly towards her and looked inside the room. His heart fluttered at the sight of his wife and son, both wrapped up warm, both asleep, on the hospital bed. Tears stung his eyes and his throat constricted.

“Thank you,” he said as he discreetly brushed a tear away and walked into the room.

“You are welcome. I’ll go and put these flowers in water and bring them in later,” she said as she closed the door.

 

Jealousy can wear many hats and display itself in many forms. Anger, hate, fear and resentment are a few of the common ones. As Johnatus walked along the corridor of the Maternity ward of St. Matthew’s Hospital with a big bunch of flowers and some balloons, he felt anger and fear deep within him. He had told himself over the years that he was not jealous of his older brother. He was not jealous of the affection his grandfather openly displayed towards Julius. He could live with being second best as long as he was in the running, as long as there was a chance that he might one day do something to earn his grandfather’s love and respect. He knew that getting rid of Julius was not an option. The thought had crossed his mind many times but he never acted on it. Why? Because Julius wasn’t the problem – Julius had no interest in his grandfather or his grandfather’s business. And, Julius was the only reason his grandfather tolerated him. He had figured out years ago that getting rid of Julius would ultimately mean getting rid of himself. He stopped outside room 14 and pushed the door open. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the darkness the room held. He noted that the room was empty and the bed devoid of covers. There wasn’t a crib in the room either. He stepped back and rechecked the number on the door. He had had his men search every single hospital in Los Angeles for the last 24 hours in order to find this mystery woman that was going to have his brother’s baby, then, thirty minutes ago, someone who knew someone he knew had said that they had seen something strange in this hospital. They had heard a baby crying in room 14 but when they had checked on the computer system to see who the mother was the room was logged on the system as being empty. Johnatus quietly walked over to the nurses’ station. He stood for a few moments and studied the nurse as she typed something onto the computer. He cleared his throat and she immediately looked up.

“I’m sorry, Sir, I didn’t see you there,” she told him.

“The lady in room 14, where is she?” Johnatus asked her.

She looked at the naturally tanned, handsome face of the man in front of her, his dark curly hair and his slim athletic frame. Her gaze wandered back to his dark, cold eyes. “Room 14, let me check the computer,” she told him and pressed a few buttons. “I just came on duty a couple of hours ago and when I got here there wasn’t anyone in that room. I think the heating on that side of the building isn’t working properly so they had to move some of the patients.” She stopped typing and read the information on the screen. “It says here that several mothers and their babies were transferred to St. Andrew’s Maternity. The note here also says that all their families were contacted,” she added.

“Are you sure that the woman and baby in room 14 got moved to St. Andrew’s?”

“They must have been because they’re not in there now are they? Who exactly are you looking for Sir?”

“Ummm . . . the girlfriend of my . . . of a friend . . . of a relative.”

“Well which is it? The girlfriend of your friend or the girlfriend of your relative?”

“Excuse me?” Irritation set in, “who the hell do you think you’re talking to?”

“You’re the only other person that I see here,” the nurse replied as she mockingly looked around. She had no idea who Johnatus was or who his grandfather was.

“Was there a lady in room 14 and is she still in the hospital?”

“No and no, so I suggest that you try St. Andrew’s, I can get you their address,” she turned and pretended to look for the address among the papers and medication cards on her table.

“I know where St. Andrew’s is,” he turned and quickly walked away.

“Sir, you forgot your flowers and balloons, excuse me, Sir,” she called out after him.

“Toss them in the trash,” he said over his shoulder.

 

The nurse waited for a several minutes then picked up the receiver and dialed a number. “A man came in asking for the lady in room 14 and I did exactly what you told me to do. He left a few minutes ago,” she whispered.

“Thank you,” Nurse McKenna told her, “and remember Susie, if anyone asks, you don’t know anything.”

“Don’t worry, Sister McKenna, I really don’t know anything.”

 

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Message from Tatiana taken from the Prologue of Blood Borne Connections

Blood Borne Connections - book cover

 

Before getting into Chapter 2 of Blood Borne Connections I thought I would share some words from Tatiana, a 15 year old girl that was sex trafficked from an orphanage in Czechoslovakia. She was taken to LA in California where she was promised a better life but within a month she was forced into prostitution.

 

Prologue

 

There is a memory that I used to cling to but sadly it is beginning to fade – I am running in the field next to my house in Czechoslovakia as fast as my little legs can carry me. I am three or maybe four years old and to me the field seems to go on forever and ever. It is as though I am running to the end of the world. I am happy! I am free! I am free! I am not in this vile place where married men with wedding bands on, single men, old men and young men used my body every day. Seven days a week the door would open and a man would walk in at any time of the day and have sex with me. At first I refused, I tried to reason with them, I told them I was only fifteen. I tried to fight them . . .

Once I scratched an old man across his face, punched and kicked him as he undressed. Dazed he stumbled around the room, his fat belly flapping about and his trousers at his knees. He went crazy, called out for help and the next thing I knew, I was beaten, held down and raped by four men. The old man laughed and goaded the men on as he watched; afterwards he slashed my arm with a knife, called me ‘Tatiana the tiger’ and said now that I had been tamed he would come back for his turn the next day. As he walked towards the door he laughed as one of the men urinated on me and another kicked me several times in my stomach so badly that for days I passed blood in my urine and I thought I was going to die from the pain. After this happened I realized it was easier to just obey the men and do whatever they asked me to do. I would look at some of the older men and think, ‘Don’t you have a sister, a cousin or a daughter? Is this something that you would want them to go through? Is this something that I look like I enjoy doing? Can’t you see that I am a prisoner in this house being forced to have sex with you? How can you not see this? My blood is on your hands! You are paying a man who has threatened to kill my sister if I don’t lie on this bed and let you do as you please with me!’ I didn’t voice my thoughts because I knew what would happen if I did. I often wondered what would happen if I had a knife . . .

 

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Blood Borne Connections – Chapter 1

Blood Borne Connections - book cover

GLL Publishing the publishers of the kindle version of Blood Borne Connections is giving a portion of the money raised from the sale of  the kindle copies to the Dream Centre in LA California where trafficked victims are looked after and given a chance to get their lives back together.

We are sharing some chapters of Blood Borne Connections with you starting with chapter 1 below.

CHAPTER 1

Knife gripped tightly in her hand, Dorothy McKenna stood next to her matrimonial bed and looked down at her sleeping, soon-to-be-dead husband, Nigel. So many thoughts and memories ran through her mind; some of them collided into each other leaving her consumed with sickening emotions. Wave after wave of these emotions, these hurts that she had kept at bay for so long, swept torrentially to the surface and demanded to be acknowledged. Loneliness . . . hate . . . betrayal . . . anger . . . pain . . . insignificance – it was as though her mind was a labyrinth that had captured her sanity within its walls. Each turn her sanity took was met by one identical path after another and no sign of the way out. Her face was flushed, her hair damp from anxious perspiration and her hazel-green eyes – crazed. The knife in her hand felt heavy, but not as heavy as her broken heart; she had seen years of physical, emotional and verbal abuse at the hands of Nigel.“You’re not good enough, you’re not pretty enough, you’re not sexy enough. You’re so stupid, Dorothy, you make the dodos sad they’re extinct! A baby dodo would look at you and think –‘Why us and not her?’ and ‘Man is she dumb!’ Of all the women in the world, I had to go and marry a dumb-ass.” A kick, a punch or the occasional slap would often accompany his cruel words. As Nigel’s wife, the years had not been kind to Dorothy; indeed they had brought her to this very day and this very moment.

It was nearly 3 o’clock in the morning and the room, though mostly dark, was slightly illuminated by shafts of moonlight that peered between the partially opened louvers of the plastic blind in front of the window. Feeling suddenly exposed, Dorothy moved to the other side of the bed that was hidden in darkness and stood there with her hand raised and knife poised, ready to plunge into her husband’s chest. She had been a nurse for over fifteen years and risen to the position of sister in charge at California’s prestigious St. Matthew’s Hospital. She knew exactly where the human heart was located in the chest and that it comprised of the left and right atria and left and right ventricles. Using the knife, she pointed at the vena cava, aorta and pulmonary artery then the right atrium, right ventricle, left atrium and left ventricle. As she pointed she named, and as she named she visualized. She knew just how many inches she needed to push the knife down to cause irreparable damage and maximum pain. She had even added a few more inches because she was sure that his heart was now so hard and cold that it would require a little more force to destroy it. The extra pounds he had gained over the years also played a factor.

Dorothy looked at her husband’s face and wondered, as she had done over the last few months, how things had come to this. After so many years of marriage was this how things would end? She would kill him and feel no remorse. Her lawyer would defend her in court by saying that Nigel had abused her and beaten her and debased her for years, and that she had had a moment of madness where she simply snapped. There was more than enough evidence locked up in a filing cabinet at the local police station to substantiate that this was all true, but deep within her heart, she knew the real truth: Nigel had killed her. She had made him her life and he had taken her life and thrown it in the gutter. She gave him love and he abused it. She gave him money and he misused it – mostly on other women. She paid all the utility bills and even bought the gas in his expensive car, the car she was still paying for – a direct debit of $199 each month.

She did everything she thought a good wife was supposed to do to make her husband love her, but in Nigel’s eyes, it was never enough. Had there been children, she might have been able to continue with the charade of their marriage, but they didn’t have any children because Nigel had said that he didn’t want to share her with children. He even said he loved her too much to share his affection and his time with anyone else. He lied to get what he wanted and when he got it he abused her until he needed something else – then he lied again.

“Are you going to stand there all night, woman, or are you going to kill me?” Nigel asked.

Shocked by his words, Dorothy froze momentarily; her heart literally stopped beating for a few seconds.

“Well, are you going to kill me or are you going to get into bed? Why does everything with you have to be over-emphasized and damn melodramatic? Either you’re going to kill me, woman, or put that damn knife away, get into this damn bed and get some damn sleep. I need you to be alert when you go to the bank tomorrow to get the loan for me. You hear me, woman, alert! This is California, not that hill-billy town in Arizona that you come from.”

Dorothy looked at Nigel; he appeared to be sleeping. She looked around the room. If he was sleeping, who had just spoken to her? Had he finally succeeded in driving her mad? Was this the moment of madness her lawyer would use in court to defend her?

“Nigel,” she whispered as she lowered the knife and leaned towards him. She could hear him snoring and saw the even rise and fall of his chest, which indicated he was still fast asleep. “Nigel,” she whispered again. He didn’t move.

“You see, this is what happens when a man like me marries a woman like you. I could have had any woman I wanted but I had to go and marry a stupid dumb-ass woman like you. Stop wasting my time, woman, kill me or go to sleep.”

She heard the words; they were his mean words spoken in his mean voice, but she could see that he had not spoken them. His lips had not moved and he was still asleep. She panicked. She put the knife down on the bedside table, ran her hands through her hair, banged her hands against her head intermittently and rocked backwards and forwards. She was scared. She wasn’t sure if she was dreaming or if she had already killed him and his spirit was talking. Suddenly a sickening feeling washed over her as she thought that maybe she was dead, maybe he had seen the knife in her hand and they had fought viciously – smashing and breaking things, he had overpowered her, grabbed the knife and stabbed her. Frantically, she checked herself for stab wounds – nothing. She looked around the room: nothing had been disturbed and nothing was broken; confused, she started to cry. Tears coursed down her face as her whole body trembled and she sobbed. After a few moments, her nursing instincts kicked in as she realized she was going into shock. She sat on the floor, put her head in-between her legs and breathed deeply. As she breathed, she reasoned with herself, “I can’t be dead; dead people don’t go into shock. Come on, Dorothy, take control of this . . . take control of this,” she whispered to herself.

“Take control Dorothy, take control Dorothy, take control Dorothy,” Nigel mimicked. “You don’t have control – I will always control you,” he said and laughed evilly.

Scared, she looked up, “What did I do wrong? Why do you hate me so much, Nigel?”

“Who said I hate you? I may not love you, woman, but like any good pet, you have your uses.”

“You hit me, you abuse me, and you cheat on me-”

“Why do you always have to be so moralistic? Look, my dad’s dad probably cheated on his wife. I sure know my dad cheated on my mom and I cheat on you, Dorothy, why can’t you just accept it? All men cheat-”

“That’s not true!”

“Yes it is – all men cheat,” he insisted.

“No, all men don’t cheat! Decent men don’t cheat! Only weak pathetic men like you cheat. Men who have no morals, no family values, no backbone or standards; men who do not see beyond their selfish needs to the damage they inflict on other-” she stopped and looked at Nigel. He was still sleeping.

“Why can’t you just accept the truth – you were too frigid for me and there was no chemistry between us? You couldn’t satisfy me. The truth is it takes a real woman to satisfy me, Dorothy.”

Like the pain of a fresh paper cut, his words stung for a moment then she shrugged their familiar discomfort off and braced herself. “You came to bed with bad breath expecting me to kiss you. You came to bed smelling of sex and cheap perfume expecting me to sleep with you. The truth is, Nigel, you repulsed me.”

Liberated, she stood up. She had never told him this before because, ironically, she had not wanted to hurt his feelings. She would make the odd comment now and then to him about brushing his teeth before he went to bed to keep them healthy or about having a shower when he got back in the evening. He never listened to her, and for years she had to endure his disgusting smells. “Sex with you, Nigel, was pathetic. There was no intimacy, no affection from you, and no lovemaking. It was less than two minutes of ‘stop-start-stop-start’ torture and you know what I did during those less than two-minute sessions? I would pray that you didn’t infect me with a sexually transmitted disease again! You talk about truth; can you handle the truth? You have called me frigid so many times; well most normal women would be frigid if their husbands smelled of old sex, broke wind like a pig in bed, snored like a dog and dribbled like a baby when they slept. You think that those drunks, those drugged-up, desperate women you’ve been sleeping with are normal?”

He didn’t respond

“Oh you have nothing to say now, do you?”

“Dorothy, listen-”

“No, no you listen; you have cheated on me with five women that I know about. You think I didn’t know that two of those women have had children for you? ‘I don’t want to share you with children, Dorothy’, you said to me time and time again. You didn’t allow me to have children! You lied to me! You took my money and spent it on other women. You made me work two jobs while you did one part-time job. You took everything from me, Nigel, including my self-respect! No more, you hear me? I will not live like this anymore – I have had enough!” She screamed.

At the onset of an act of madness, some scientists say that there is a moment of lucidity, almost like a way out of committing the act. This bizarre moment, however, can be lost in a blink of an eye. Is science really exact? Did this moment really exist? Dorothy McKenna was sweating, shaking and had just had a conversation with a man who was asleep. Her symptoms depicted that she was having a mental breakdown and was on the verge of committing an act of madness. She picked up the knife from the bedside table and looked at it for a few seconds, and then she took a deep, exhilarating breath and plunged the knife down with all her might. She let go of the knife, exhaled and smiled her first ‘happy’ smile in years.

Calmingly, Dorothy arranged some things around the room, collected a few personal belongings then walked out of her bedroom for the very last time.

Special offer: Get a free copy of ‘Despite all odds: A Dream Fulfilled Part 1’ when you buy any book from the GLL Publishing collection. Contact me at gladyslawson@hotmail.com for your free copy.

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A Good Woman is like a Rough Diamond – Extremely Valuable!

A Good Woman is like a Rough Diamond – Extremely Valuable!

Dorothy McKenna stood next to her matrimonial bed with a knife in her hand moments away from killing her husband Nigel. She was having a nervous breakdown and in the middle of what her lawyers would later describe as a ‘moment of madness’ and use in her defence. Nigel abused Dorothy mentally, emotionally and physically on a regular basis. He made her work two jobs while he only worked part-time and he took her money and spent it on other women and young girls like Tatiana (a 15 year old girl from Czechoslovakia trafficked to America and forced into prostitution).

Many women today are being abused by husbands who took vows to love and cherish them. You will have to read Dorothy’s story in ‘Blood Borne Connections’ to see what happened to her and Nigel.

Questions

Why do we live in a world where men abuse women?

Why do men think that it is okay to abuse women?

I find it sad when a man grew up with a father who cheated on his mother, abused his mother and saw all the pain and heartache his mother went through only to cheat on his wife and make his children grow up in the same situation. It is wrong and a cycle that needs to stop if we want to produce children with good values.

Secret 1: A good woman is like a rough diamond and all a man has to do is polish her with love and she will shine and captivate him forever.

Here’s how to polish her:

Tell her you love her.

Show her you care.

Don’t cheat on her or prefer others to her because this only makes her angry and unresponsive to you. The more you show her kindness the more she will respond with love to you and the more your relationship will flourish.

Women are simple creatures; they want affection, kindness and love.

A rough diamond when polished becomes a thing of beauty. Polish your woman with love and see her shine and your home become castle and you a king in love with her, your queen. Your relationship will be a thing of beauty and value because good begets good!

Secret 2: The cost of the rough diamond determines the price of the polished diamond!

Times are changing, so do something different and don’t be like Nigel in ‘Blood Borne Connections’ polish your woman with love and make her shine.

Check out ‘Blood Borne Connections’ to see what not to do!

Blood Borne Connections - book coverBlood Borne Connections - book cover

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Click on link to read chapter 1 –  http://www.bookdaily.com/book/5322500/blood-borne-connections

Promotion: Get a free copy of ‘Despite all odds: A Dream Fulfilled Part 1’ when you buy a book from the GLL Publishing collection. Contact me at gladyslawson@hotmail.com for your free copy.