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

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U Murder U (Suicide)

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Blood Borne Connections is part of the GLL Publishing Collection

 

 

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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 13

 

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Books by GLL Publishing  –  www.gllpublishing.com 

 

Blood Borne Connections - book cover

Chapter 13

 

‘Tatiana’

 

On the bus that took us from Czechoslovakia we were shown our passports, we all had new names. According to my passport my name was now Tatiana Nikols. I didn’t question this, none of us did. Neither did we question how the passports were obtained so quickly, we were so happy to be chosen, so happy to be going to a new life that you could have called us Humpty Dumpty and we wouldn’t have bat an eye. ‘Bat an eye’ – what does that really mean? How does one bat one’s eye? This is not something that we readily say back home. I heard Tommy, one of the eight men who guards us tell Hanna this. Hanna is one of the girls who traveled from the orphanage with me; she is the same age as me but looks much older and is more physically developed than me. Tommy told her that he wouldn’t bat an eye if she died. He had raped her so many times and she had tried to kill herself so many times and on the last unsuccessful attempt he said this to her as she lay on the ground covered in blood that slowly seeped out of a new cut on her wrist. He became hysterical when he found her that day, the other men tried to calm him down but he wouldn’t listen to them. He tried to beat her but they wouldn’t let him so he spat on her. Two days later he was begging her for sex and when she said ‘no’ he raped her. How can you spit on someone one minute then want to sleep with her the next? You spit on something when you think it is dirty and beneath you. If this is what you think, is it not logical that you would not want to touch that thing?

 

America is a capitalist country. Growing up in Czechoslovakia you are told that capitalism is bad and corrupt. You are told that too many people have too many thoughts in a capitalist country and nothing substantial in their thinking. Their thoughts lead to confusion and a division between the rich and the poor. The rich have too much money and too many cares and the poor have too little money and care about nothing in their attempt to get rich. This is why the poor readily kill and steal in their attempt to be rich and then they get rich and they have too much money and too many cares, so much so that they wish they were poor again. It’s hilarious! This is a word I picked up from Hanna. She says that life is hilarious and if she weren’t always crying in pain she would be laughing at her good fortune of being in America – the cause of her pain! Hilarious!

When we first arrived in America we were moved from one house to another, several times and we immediately saw the difference between this country and ours as we were driven in a van with darkened windows. The skyscrapers – the fast food restaurants – the big cars – the big houses – the homeless people who lived out of supermarket carts – the overdressed shops – the underdressed women. It was very different from Czechoslovakia. The music was so different. We would spend hours watching music videos on the television, our favorites were Whitney Houston ‘Saving All My Love’, Debarge ‘Rhythm Of The Night’, Foreigner ‘I Want To Know What Love Is’, Kool &The Gang ‘Cherish’, Ashford & Simpson ‘Solid’, Madonna ‘Crazy For You’, New Edition ‘Mr. Telephone Man’, Billy Ocean ‘Suddenly’, Sade ‘Smooth Operator’, Jermaine Jackson ‘Do What You Do’ and Tina Turner ‘Private Dancer’. I loved Michael Jackson’s ‘Thriller’ and would watch it over and over again when it was played on the television. We were fifteen and sixteen year old girls exposed to music we had never heard before and we would dance and dance. We didn’t know the words but the videos spoke their own language and we would sing along as if we did know the words. Although short lived they were fun times that united us and gave us something to talk about and write about. You see we were encouraged to write letters to our siblings and friends back in the orphanage. I wrote long letters to Tereza, Leona and Eduard. I told them my name was now Tatiana as this was more Americanized. I also told them about the many things we had seen, the food, the television shows and the music. I tried to describe the things I saw as best as I could in detail so that they would feel as though they were here with me, and seeing what I saw. We were given a Post Office Box address to give them so that they could write to us. I remember waiting for letters from home but never receiving any. After a few weeks of being moved from one house to another the blonde American woman came to the house we were in and told us that we were all going to a final location. We were all excited about this and packed our few belongings.

The say evil has a humorous side and just before it strikes it can’t help itself; it lets you know it is coming. Moments away from our final location we were told the sad news of Mrs. Svobodová’s death and told that we should work hard and do our best to make her proud of us in America!

Our new home was a large three-story house with many darkened windows. There were no other houses next to it on either side, it stood alone, almost sinisterly so. From the outside it looked like a house that could accommodate many families. Once we got inside the house the doors were locked and bolted and the men who guarded us immediately changed in the way they behaved towards us. You see when we first got to America we were told that these men were protecting us from the corrupt American men who exploited innocent girls like us. We were told to regard them as bodyguards and that they didn’t understand our language and as such we should avoid interacting with them, but if we had to speak to them we were to speak only in English. Hanna noted that when we spoke in our language some of the men would stop talking. She suspected that some of them could understand and speak our language and didn’t understand why they pretended they couldn’t. In our first weeks in America they hardly spoke to us and they never touched us; they acted like we were their little sisters. Once the door of the new house closed behind us they grabbed hold of us and pushed us down steep stairs into a large room in the basement of the house. We screamed, we cried, we tried to make sense of the sudden change in our treatment but the men told us to shut up and do as they said. They took our belongings from us and locked us in the room, which was dark and smelled of urine and vomit. I remember feeling sick and trying to hold my breath but everywhere I turned the smell followed and made my insides churn. We were kept in the room for two days with no food and a dripping tap as our only source of water.

What did we do during this time? We sat on the cold floor and waited. You have to understand; none of us knew what was going on, our upbringing in Czechoslovakia had been very sheltered in the orphanage. Communism had sheltered us from the wicked ways of so called modern civilization. Of course we cried and cried, some of us banged on the door and begged to be released, begged for food and begged for mercy. For two days we were ignored. It was during this period that I learned something; I learned that Leona had been the first girl selected by the American woman and she had turned the woman down. Despite the American woman begging her and offering her money, Leona had refused to go with her because she said that the woman did not look sincere. She had told the American woman and Mrs. Mertle that she had prayed to God for direction and God had shown her in a dream that the American woman was not to be trusted. I cried when Hanna told me this. I cried when I thought about what I had said to Leona, how I had accused her of being jealous because I had been chosen and she hadn’t and I cried when I thought about the fact that I might never again see her, my sister or Eduard, we would never again be the four musketeers. I would die in this dark cold basement from starvation. Looking back that would have been a luxury compared to what lay ahead.

On the third day, the men who had guarded us during our first weeks took us out of the room one by one. I don’t know what scared me the most, the fear of seeing a girl taken and knowing that it would soon be my turn or the thought of what they were going to do to the girl they had taken and what they would do to me. One of the girls had said during our two days in the basement that they were going to kill us and sell our organs – again that would have been a luxury.

I remember two men grabbing my arms and pulling me out of the room, I remember being blinded by the light as I was dragged up the stairs. Then things start to get blurry. I was dragged into a room and told to take my clothes off when I refused I was slapped several times. I heard girls screaming from different areas of the house and my mind froze with a fear that I have never felt before. Hands ripped and pulled off my clothes and threw them onto a pile already on the floor. One of the men held a hand over his nose while another one said I smelled like shit and needed to wash. I was pulled naked out of the room and thrown into a room with a shower. I was told that I had two minutes to wash and that I should make sure I washed in-between my legs and my mouth properly. Amid the instructions I heard screaming, I heard shouting and I heard the quiet sound of someone weeping as if her heart were being shattered. It took some moments before I realized that the quiet weeping was coming from me. I could taste blood in my mouth from where I had bitten myself when I was repeatedly slapped. I tried to pick up the soap from the floor but my hands were shaking so much. I had never been naked in front of a man and I felt ashamed at this. I felt ashamed and scared. The men were looking at my body and grinning at each other. They told me to hurry up or they would ‘do me’ right there. I didn’t know what they meant but from the evil glint in their eyes I knew that it wasn’t good. I remember picking up the soap and standing under the shower, the water was freezing and I washed quickly thinking that if I did this I would be given some clean clothes and some decency. I brushed my teeth and someone threw a towel at me. I used the towel to cover myself and the men laughed at me and called me a stupid bitch. All this time I knew I was so hungry and cold but the fear in my heart seemed to paralyze my brain. Someone pulled the towel off me and threw it on the floor. I was dragged out of the room naked and taken to a room filled with about ten men. Music played in the background; it drowned out the noise of the screaming girls.

“Have you slept with a man before?” A man I didn’t recognize asked me in my language.

Hearing my language from this man made me cry. I spoke to him in my language, “Please help me, I only came to America to-”

He slapped me, “Answer my question bitch, have you slept with a man before?”

“No,” I replied stunned.

“If you are lying I will know and I will kill you and I will send one of my men in Czechoslovakia to go to the orphanage and kill your little sister, Tereza.”

I panicked at the mention of my sister’s name, “It is true!”

“I know everything about you so tell me the truth!”

“It is the truth, I have never slept with a man,” I begged.

He turned to the men in the room, “Okay gentlemen we have a virgin here; two hundred bucks for two hours!” He told them in English. I saw what looked like money being waved in the air and then I was handed over to an old man with very little hair and a fat gut. He told the man who had sold me for two hours that he would add ten bucks not to use a rubber. The man called him Emilio Russo and told him to make it twenty bucks. He nodded gave him the money then smiled at me and walked out of the room. Two men dragged me out and we followed the old man up the stairs. The screaming seemed to intensify with each step I took. I heard girls screaming in my language, in Polish, in English – girls like me, begging for their lives. Terrified, I was taken into a room with a bed, a sink and darkened windows. The two men dragged me towards the bed and threw me down. They laughed as I struggled to get up and mocked me as I tried to run. They grabbed me and held me down on the bed. I could hear my heart pounding as fear stole my breath and paralyzed me. The fat bald man called Emilio Russo, took off his clothes slowly and smiled at me as he did so. I begged and I cried, I told them that I was only fifteen but the men holding me down told me to shut up. Naked, Mr. Russo climbed on top of me and I screamed. I screamed at the pain of his thrusts. I cried and begged him to stop but he wouldn’t stop, the men wouldn’t let me go. I screamed until my throat ceased and shock took control. When Mr. Russo had finished the men who had held me down took turns in raping me. They did things to me that I cannot bear to think about and as you are reading my thoughts you will not read the things they did. When they left the room I was battered and bleeding. My face was swollen and my lips cut  from where they had punched me several times and . . . I was angry . . . Before I came here I had plans! Plans that I would one day meet a young man and flirt a little, fall in love, have a first kiss, hold hands, go for walks, get engaged, get married, give myself to him on our wedding night, have children and live happily ever after. I had plans! I had dreams!

These animals had taken my plans and destroyed them, contaminated them. Who would want me now? My innocence had been taken away by a man old enough to be my grandfather, a man who had lived his life to old age and had now destroyed my young life. I was angry . . .

I had to clean myself up. The pain was unbearable as I held onto the bed and walked slowly to the sink to get some water to wash myself. I stood by the sink with a wet towel and tried to wipe away their dirt and their smells. When I had finished cleaning myself I looked around the room for some clothes to wear; there was nothing. I heard the door open and frightened I backed away. The man who had sold me walked into the room; he had some clothes, some food and some tablets in a transparent bag in his hands. He placed them on the floor and talked to me in my language. He told me he had paid a lot of money to get passports for us in the Czechoslovakian black market and spent many Koruna (the currency in my country) for us to be taken across Europe to Yugoslavia and then brought to America. He said that he needed to make sure we repaid him all the money he had spent and that it was only fair that we did so. He asked me if I was hungry, if I wanted to wear some clean clothes and take some drugs to stop the pain. I nodded. He told me that I must listen to him and obey him. He said I was chosen like the other girls because I had family that they could get to in Czechoslovakia if I disobeyed him. He told me he had someone in the orphanage watching my little sister Tereza and he could easily arrange for Tereza to be brought here and go through exactly what I had just been through and that afterwards he would kill her in front of me. My heart froze when he said this because I believed him. He had mentioned my sister’s name three times today and I knew he could do what he said – when someone mentions someone’s name three times in relation to a bad thing it is seen as a bad omen in my country. He undid his belt and told me to get on my knees in front of him. When I didn’t move he walked over to me and punched me in my stomach then dragged me by my hair around the room. I cried and begged him to stop but he told me to shut up, he told me that when he spoke to me I had to obey him before the words were out of his mouth. He told me his name was Vitto and he owned my ass. Then he pushed me down on the floor in front of him and unzipped his trousers.

 

 

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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https://www.facebook.com/gllpublishings.co.uk?ref=hl

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Blood Borne Connections – Chapter 10

Measure of a Friend

 

Chapter 10

 

“You said that he treated you badly for years, what happened to make you finally take a stand against him?”

Dorothy had not told anyone about the phone call she had received two days ago. She had not been able to trust anyone, but she knew without a shadow of a doubt that she could trust Julius. “I was getting ready for work two days ago when the phone rang. I was running late and sort of knew that it was someone calling for Nigel so I wasn’t going to answer it but it kept on ringing and something made me pick the receiver up. A young girl was on the other end and she asked if I was Nigel’s wife. I said I was and she told me her name was Tatiana and she was fifteen years old. She had met Nigel at a ‘Singles’ bar, told him she was nineteen and flirted with him. He said that he was going to take her to Disneyland. He told her that I was going to borrow some money from the bank and give it to him and he would use the money to spoil her. She said that when she asked him why I would borrow money from the bank and give it to him to spend on her he told her it was because I was stupid and desperate to keep hold of him. He said the only thing I was useful for was giving him money.” She paused as she thought about the number of times she had given him money or bought him something or done something he had asked even though she had disliked it.

“Dorothy?” Julius encouraged.

She cleared her throat, “Tatiana said that she wasn’t calling me to tell me about the loan and if that was the only thing she wouldn’t have bothered. She said that she was calling because of something Nigel had told her when he was drunk. Something that the man in charge of her had heard and planned to use her as bait to get as much money as possible from him. He told her that after he got his hands on the loan he was going to cash in a life insurance policy he had taken out on me. I didn’t want to believe her, I kept telling her to stop lying to me. Over and over again I kept begging her to stop lying to me. Then she told me something that tore me up – it ripped my heart out,” she paused again.

“What did she tell you?”

“She told me it was Nigel who had hit me on my head with a hammer. She told me he had practiced how he would kill me and part of his plan was to make it look like I had been accident prone for months.”

“What?” He stared at her, shocked and confused.

“I . . . umm, I,” ashamed, she looked away.

“Dorothy, you don’t have to tell me if it makes you feel uncomfortable-”

“No, I do want to tell you. God knows I need to tell someone,” she took a deep breath. “One night I woke up and saw blood on my pillow, my head was throbbing and I panicked. I remember the look of shock and fear on Nigel’s face when I started screaming. He took me to the hospital and told the doctor that I must have been sleep walking again, fallen and hit my head. He said that I had been falling a lot recently. I knew that was a lie but I was confused and my head hurt; I felt dizzy and sick. The doctor examined me for bruises consistent with falls but couldn’t find any. I couldn’t understand what had happened. This stranger on the phone explained that my husband had used a hammer and hit me twice on my head then calmly hid the hammer and went back to sleep. She told me where he had hidden the hammer. I found it exactly where she said it would be, covered in my blood. She said I needed to leave him before he killed me. She said there had been a glint in his eyes when he spoke to her and she knew he was going to kill me. She said that she couldn’t live with herself if she didn’t tell me because she didn’t want my death on her conscience. That was what pushed me to take a stand. Her words were like a compass directing me to what I had to do in order to survive. I searched and searched until I found the life insurance policy he had taken out.” She took a deep breath, held it for a few moments, and then released it. “It was all true; everything Tatiana said was all true.”

“Tatiana? Is she from Europe?”

“Czechoslovakia. She came here for a better life. She was living in an orphanage in Czechoslovakia with her little sister, Tereza; their parents had died in a car accident and they had no one to take care of them. One day a woman from America visited her orphanage. She told the manager that she wanted to take some of the girls to new homes in America and she had contacts with many families in America who were looking to adopt children. Tatiana and four other girls who could speak and understand English came over to America. She was full of hope and wanted so badly to be adopted and then help get her little sister adopted too. It wasn’t until after the first few weeks of their arrival that she suspected that something wasn’t right. They were moved around from one house to another house and watched by a group of men.”

Julius’ heart began to beat rapidly as he held his breath. He knew what was coming and he would give anything not to have to listen to the words.

“Within weeks Tatiana had been repeatedly raped, beaten and made to sleep with at least twenty different men. She said she lost count at twenty and thinks that it could have been more. Two of the girls she came with disappeared one night, she has not seen them again and thinks they may be dead. One day she saw a uniformed police officer in a squad car outside the house she was held in and ran to him for help. She didn’t realize that he was a customer. The police officer took her back inside and told the man in charge of the house to control his whores. She was beaten so badly that night with a baseball bat that she thought she was going to die. Now she does as she is told and trusts no one, especially the police. With everything that has happened to her at fifteen she still had the courage to phone me and warn me about my husband. She had one phone call which she could have used to save her life and she chose to use it to save my life! If that’s not Divine intervention I don’t know what is. So now I have a new purpose and I’m going on a mission.”

“What is your purpose and where are you going?”

“My purpose is to stop the exploitation of children. I’m going to Europe. I’m going to make sure Tatiana’s sister Tereza and Tatiana’s best friend Leona are safe and I’m going to help the orphanage in any way I can. And I’m going to stop this happening. I don’t care if I can only help one girl at a time. I’m going to help as many as I can. I can’t do anything for Tatiana. I tried to find her. I thought about calling all the ‘Singles’ bars and clubs that Nigel goes to but if I do that and the men watching her get spooked they could really harm her. I can’t go to the police, especially if some of them patronize brothels – they won’t help me find her.”

***

Inside the police station Detective Kowalski pretended to study the arrest sheet in front of him for a few moments then looked up, “Mr. McKenna, you have been arrested for the possible murder of your wife as well as assaulting two police officers. My men have found papers in your house which indicate that you took out a life insurance policy on your wife. You added a clause to include ‘missing’. How do you explain that? How do you explain that your wife is missing and you added a last minute clause to include payment if she is missing or if her body is never found?”

“I didn’t do that. I took the policy out, sure, but I didn’t add a clause. Someone else must have done that! It wasn’t me!”

“So who did it?” Kowalski asked. “The aliens?”

***

 

“I sold the house two days ago. The buyer has been after it for years and offered to pay within twenty-four hours. I stopped payment on his car and told the car people to take it back. Now I have about fifty thousand dollars in a private account and I’m going to disappear.”

“What if I can make that happen, Dorothy?”

“How?”

“I know an Agency that could use people like you in Europe to help stop human trafficking. I’ll help you get a new identification and disappear.” He thought of Elaina and he felt a surge of anger followed by . . . hope.

Dorothy stared at him, “You’re serious aren’t you?”

“When it comes to helping to save innocent children, I’m very serious. The question is Dorothy, are you?”

“Yes.”

“That’s all I need to know. First, let’s get my wife and son out of here. Cara’s brother is in London. He has a house in Oakland that we can stay in for a few months. You need to get a new perspective, I need to get some rest and then we need to get you to Europe.”

 

 

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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https://www.facebook.com/gllpublishings.co.uk?ref=hl

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What Gives A Man

 

Blood Borne Connections – Chapter 9

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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.”

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Blood Borne Connections – Chapter 6

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Chapter 6

 

Julius had held Cara tightly and stroked her hair as they talked – well, he had done most of the talking. She was now fast asleep. Their son was fast asleep. He gently untangled himself, got up, picked up his shoes and walked out of the room. Nurse McKenna sat at the nurses’ station; he walked over to her pulled out a chair and sat down.

“I made you some coffee,” she picked up the bubbling percolator and poured him a cup.     “Careful,” she told him as he took the cup, “it’s hot.”

“Thank you, Nurse McKenna-”

“Please call me Dorothy.”

“Thank you, Dorothy,” he placed the cup in front of him.

“Are they both sleeping?”

He nodded, “We talked until she fell asleep. Thank you for taking care of them. I owe you so much. I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”

“You can repay me by taking care of your wife and your son. I talked to your wife earlier – she is a beautiful person, inside and out. Never hurt her, never cheat on her-”

“I would never do that!” Julius interrupted.

“You know, I’m surprised that she is married to you-”

“Why, because she is Black and I’m White?”

“My, my, aren’t we defensive. No I meant because she is so beautiful, so articulate, so educated, obviously has had a good upbringing and is so genuinely nice. Her room was really cold downstairs but she didn’t get nasty and kick up a fuss like some women, she was so polite. She saw that I was upset and she took the time to talk to me and listen. When you came in and saw that your wife and son had been moved I watched you on the monitor as you talked to the nurse at the reception. You seemed so rough and aggressive, almost like one of those Mafia guys you see in the movies.”

“What?” He asked, again shocked at her uncanny perception.

“I know from talking to Cara that she is an investigative journalist. What do you do?”

“I’m a human rights lawyer and a business man and I work with people who understand the secret of money.”

“Money has a secret?”

“No, the secret of money just means having an understanding that money should be used for good and not evil, not hoarded, worshipped or misused, because when you use it correctly it brings happiness. My maternal grandfather and my father taught me the secret of money, now I use it to help people.”

“Wow, you’re a lawyer, a business man, a philanthropist and a wise man, you could have fooled me. When I saw you on the monitor the first thing I thought was-”

“You saw me on a monitor?” He purposely interrupted.

“Yes, this one,” she indicated with her hand where the monitor was. “Your wife described you but when I watched as you spoke to the nurse downstairs I wasn’t sure it was you so I sat and watched you for a few moments. I had to be sure you were not connected to the men who came earlier. Then I saw something in your eyes that you were trying to hide – you looked scared and genuinely worried, so I figured it had to be you.”

Julius looked at the screen. He saw the nurse he had met earlier seated at the nurses’ station; he also saw the corridor of the Maternity ward. “I thought you said this was the old I.T.U, how comes you have a monitor connected to a camera in Maternity here?”

“Let’s just say I borrowed it from my husband. He works, or should I say, used to work, part-time in the security department downstairs. I took his ID pass and keys before I left the house. I figured he wouldn’t need them anymore.”

Julius studied her for a few moments then asked the question that had sat hidden in a corner of his mind waiting for the right time to come out, “Did you kill your husband?”

Dorothy looked at him for the longest of moments then threw her head back kicked out her feet and laughed. She laughed until tears ran down her face. She laughed until her chest hurt. When she finally managed to compose herself she looked him squarely in the eyes. “There are many ways to end someone’s life,” she told him and smiled.

***

“Help me, I’m dying!” Nigel screamed.

“Mr. McKenna, this is the police, you need to remove the barricade you have against the door. My men need to come in but you have blocked the entrance!” Detective Jefferson Kowalski shouted through the door.

“No, if I open the door, more will come in. This is a state of emergency, call the President, call the Prime Minister of England, they’re supposed to be good friends!”

Kowalski tried a calmer approach, “Mr. McKenna, let us come in. We need to gain access so that we can see you’re okay. We just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m dying, I tell you! I’m dying! The aliens are here they are everywhere. They have made contact. They took my wife now they want to take me. They took Dorothy! They took her; now they want me!”

Seth O’Hara, a senior paramedic, rushed over; he held a sheathed syringe in his hand. “Do you think we will need to sedate him, Kowalski?”

“I don’t know, O’Hara, we may need to wait until we find out where his wife is. I saw you talking to the neighbors earlier; any news on her possible location?”

“I thought the aliens took her,” O’Hara smirked.

“Don’t even go there!” Detective Kowalski warned and frowned. “I don’t get it, the neighbors say he is usually a mean old bastard to his wife but she put up with him. What happened to make him snap this morning? He’s been screaming and shouting for nearly twenty minutes now.”

“Maybe she changed, maybe she stood up to him this morning and told him to go to hell, who knows,” O’Hara offered.

“And he got so mad he started seeing aliens? Or was he so shocked by her change that to him she’s now an alien?”

“I don’t believe in aliens so your questions don’t make sense to me, Kowalski, however I do know a shrink that makes a hundred and fifty bucks an hour who may be able to help you.”

“It’s cases like this, where I need the input of another intelligent person, that I value my partner.”

“Where is your highly intelligent partner today?”

“He’s at the forensic lab working on a case.”

“That’s a bummer; I could use some of his expertise.”

“Lose the grin, O’Hara, work with me here.”

“Okay, I’m sorry, what do you need?”

“I need answers; I hate working blind. I need to know what I’m dealing with here, where is his wife?”

“You think she’s in there?” O’Hara asked.

“Her car isn’t out front. No one has seen her since yesterday. My men are still trying to find out if she’s at work. We know she’s a nurse and she drives to work.”

“What’s the name of the hospital? I’ll ask one of the other paramedics if they know her.”

“One of my men said a neighbor told him it could either be St. Matthew’s or St. Andrew’s.”

“I’ll get one of your guys to put out an APB on her and ask my guys if they know her.” He turned to leave, “rumor has it that Nigel McKenna has a gun. There is the option that Mrs. McKenna is in there with him. She could be injured and slowly bleeding out, each organ shutting down one by one as she cries out ‘help me Detective Kowalski, help me!’ or worst still, she could be dead.”

“Remind me again, why did you become a paramedic?”

“To serve the citizens of this state, to render medical assistance when required and to save lives,” he quoted.

“No really, why did you become a paramedic?”

Both men smiled at an old joke.

“Look, Kowalski, I know you want to close this up but he sounds really out of it, plus we can’t get in.”

“I know. I just don’t want the Feds getting involved and taking over. This is supposed to be a ‘Domestic’, if they think that we can’t handle a simple ‘Domestic’, we’ll never live it down.”

They both heard a loud crash followed by loud shouts then unfamiliar silence. Both men turned to the door and tried to kick it open.

 

5 Hours Earlier

Blood stained hands knocked on the door. “Please be in, please be in,” the person whispered.

“Who is it?” The woman inside asked.

“Juanita, it’s me, Dorothy. I need your help.”

“Dorothy! Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did that monster hurt you again? Hold on, let me open the door.” Juanita Ortega quickly unlocked the door. She took one look at her friend’s face and pulled her inside. Then the smell hit her hard; she backed away and held her chest as she tried not to look at the blood on her friend’s hands. Juanita suffered from what some doctors classified as a form of a neurological disorder called hematophobia, the fear of blood. Her condition, which manifested itself after her fiftieth birthday, rendered her paralyzed and made her faint at the sight of blood. First, when she smelled blood saliva would fill her mouth and then her breathing would become labored. Next her heart would palpitate and she would literally freeze, in the absence of immediate rectification she would black out. “Is that blood on your hands, Dorothy?” She asked as saliva poured into her mouth and her breathing became labored. She tried to move forward to help her friend but her feet were frozen.

Dorothy looked at her hands, she hadn’t seen the blood on them if she had she would have washed them and spared her friend the discomfort. “Juanita, please stay calm. Please hold your breath, go over to the window, put your head out and take some deep breaths. I’ll go and wash my hands okay.”

Juanita held her breath, gathered every ounce of will power she could muster, rushed over to the window, stuck her head out and breathed in and out several times. The cool air calmed her.

Dorothy ran to the bathroom and washed her hands until there was no visible trace of blood. She put a large waterproof plaster over the cut on her hand then helped herself to some of Juanita’s expensive hand cream and rubbed it into her hands. She knew that it wasn’t just the sight of blood that affected Juanita it was also the smell of blood. For some reason Juanita had the ability to smell the copper in blood; doctors said that she suffered from post-menopausal selective hyperosmia, an increased ability to smell certain things. Not many people could smell copper in a glass of blood but Juanita could smell it in a drop of blood. Juanita often joked about her condition; she said that if she were a vampire she would be forced to be a ‘vegetarian’ because of her ‘HH’; she would laugh at herself and call herself the Hyperosmic – Hematophobic – Chick.

Satisfied that both the visible and olfactory evidence were gone Dorothy left the bathroom and went to see how her friend was doing. “How are you feeling?” She asked her.

“Like someone took all the oxygen out of the room and told me to breathe.” Juanita replied.

Dorothy held up a key, “I need you to take this key and do what I ask you to do. Will you please do it?”

“You are like a baby sister to me – of course I’ll do anything for you, as long as it doesn’t involve blood.”

They both smiled. Tears shone in their eyes; the day they had fantasized about many times in the past had finally come – The day of Dorothy’s escape.

“I may not see you in a while but I promise I’ll try and call you when I can, Juanita.”

“You better call me,” Juanita said as she hugged her tightly. Sadness washed over her and she struggled to compose herself, she had to be strong for her friend. She knew if anyone deserved a good life, free from the pain of abuse and violence, it was Dorothy. Knowing it didn’t stop the pain she felt at the imminent loss of their close friendship. “Okay, before I start crying, tell me what you want me to do.”

Juanita listened intently as her friend told her what she wanted her to do and exactly how she wanted her to do it.

 

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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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