Pain

by Amanda Mackey

  PAIN

  BY AMANDA MACKEY

  PAIN

  Copyright © 2015 by Amanda Mackey.

  All rights reserved.

  First Print Edition: January 2016

  Limitless Publishing, LLC

  Kailua, HI 96734

  www.limitlesspublishing.com

  Formatting: Limitless Publishing

  ISBN-13: 978-1-68058-434-9

  ISBN-10: 1-68058-434-0

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  Evil had a face. It arrogantly sat beside me, teeth a buttery yellow from excess nicotine. Red-rimmed, deep-set eyes that scared the crap out of me when I looked into their abysmal depths. Pasty, sallow complexion with saggy jowls reminded me of one of those dogs with too much skin on their face and body.

  It didn’t make small talk or even acknowledge I was in the car until we pulled into a parking lot outside the local Quickie-Mart, a convenience store open all day and night in our seedy little part of town.

  My eyes surveyed the scant streets, hunting for something or someone that could help me flee, but the unkempt teenagers smoking cigarettes, tattoos like graffiti on their skin, loitering outside the boarded-up hair salon didn’t look like the savior type.

  “Do you know why we are here, boy?” the evil asked.

  Stealing my gaze from the rebellious boys outside down to my trembling hands in my lap, I shook my head.

  Burning pain struck my scalp as my hair was wrenched hard, forcing me to turn toward the vile voice.

  “Look at me, and fucking answer me when I speak to you!” It was deep and caustic, scalding me with its acidic menace.

  My eyes were watery, mouth pulled tight, trying hard to remain closed to stop the scream from spewing out. My hands were curled tightly, thumbs tucked into my fingers, braced against the agony in my skull. I didn’t want to look or speak. I just wanted to fold in on myself and pretend I was somewhere else. With someone else. Someone nice, who talked to me and not at me. A hug every now and then to let me know that maybe I wasn’t the pathetic shithead I’d been told I was. To experience an emotional connection with another human being. I’d seen it. People holding hands, laughing and smiling. It’s not like I didn’t know what it was. It’s just that I didn’t know what it was like to experience it.

  A backhand to the face snapped me back to the present real fast, and I couldn’t hold back any longer. “I hate you!” I whimpered, not knowing which was worse, my hair being pulled from its roots or the blistering sting on my jaw. The salty swell of tears broke free, and a metallic tang of blood slid past the corner of my mouth.

  “The feeling’s mutual, you little asshole! Now get out of the fucking car, and get in there and nab me a goddam Playboy magazine! I don’t care how you get it. Use that thick skull of yours, and figure it out.”

  “But it’s stealing! I’ll get caught!” Why didn’t he just go in and buy it? Why get me to go in and take it without paying?

  “Quit back-chatting me, boy, and get your sorry ass into that store now, or you’ll be spending another week in the cellar.”

  Aiming a panicked glance at the monster beside me, I took in the familiar twisted folds of his thin-lipped mouth that was permanently set into a scowl and the prominent hooked nose, separating his two maniacal eyes, one blue and the other hazel. I knew I was about to become a thief. To steal for him in order to prevent what I dreaded most in the world. The dark, dank concrete room under the house that held my worst nightmares.

  At nine years of age, this was the first time I’d ever been asked to break the law. I knew it wouldn’t be the last.

  Slowly opening the door of the rusted old Camaro with its squeaky hinges, making sure not to slam it or I’d notch up another strike against me, I shook at the thought of what I was about to do. The evil must have noticed my hesitance.

  “You ungrateful no good for nothing pussy! Harden the fuck up! Life stinks, and the sooner you learn that, the better! You’ve got five minutes to get back out here, or it ain’t gonna be pretty.”

  And so it began. My introduction into a world of crime, forcefully bestowed upon me by the immoral, malicious fiend I called my legal guardian.

  Chapter One

  Ten Years Later–Lil

  My home was nestled in some six hundred acres of virgin wilderness bordered by lofty barbed wire to keep out poachers and game hunters. My sanctuary, or more to the point, The Sanctuary. Not just my Heaven on Earth but a safe, substantial oasis for the four elephants, eight lions, and six Bengal tigers that we’d rescued from lives of abuse and/or unethical living conditions. Snuggled into the heart of Sierra County, California, our haven was tucked away from the mainstream population, accessible by a snaking, stony road about a half mile from the high automatic gates marking the entrance. Dad and I were attempting to make a difference in the lives of the exquisite animals that had suffered at the hands of unscrupulous humans. Two people on a mission, passionate and dedicated. Warriors, fighting for those that couldn’t fight for themselves.

  Sometimes, it felt like us against the world, but as long as we had enough funds to keep the place running and continued to successfully rehabilitate our animal friends, we were okay with that.

  Having to rely solely on generous donations and the nest egg dad had inherited from his folks when they passed, it was a constant worry forged by the very real notion that if money dried up we’d be forced to close. That would kill us both, having to send the very animals that we had rescued, raised, and cared for, away.

  Our lives were invested in this place. In this way of life. We wouldn’t have it any other way. We were lucky enough to be able to work doing something that was as precious to us as the very air we breathed.

  A frigid breeze nudged fall into winter, picking up some dead, withered leaves and gently dispersing them onto the windscreen of my pickup. I was driving toward the tigers I knew would congregate near the perimeter fence to await their meal. It was a ritual with all the cats. Their inbuilt clock similar to a human’s let them know I was coming with food. It was the highlight of my day, when I got to see th
em all together in one place. The elephants were separated from the lions, as were the tigers, so that each species could begin to repopulate should they so desire. We already had one heavily pregnant female tiger due any day now, which was causing great excitement not only between my father and me, but also between the two volunteers who worked at The Sanctuary on a rotational roster.

  Sheba was the first to react to the sound of the truck, rising intimidatingly off the ground, held firm by two fully-grown, muscly hind legs, leaning her belly and front paws against the fence and growling with anticipation at what my arrival represented. The others reacted instantaneously, and before I’d even stopped, they were pacing and jumping, vocally telling me to hurry up—all except for Mia, who we’d segregated from the others into a smaller enclosure within the rescue center in case she went into labor.

  I couldn’t stop the smile that pulled at my cheeks. The glorious creatures that were both deadly and terrifying to most accepted me as one of their own. Family. My gaze landed on Sheba as I swung the truck around so I could reverse up to the gate. Her heavily lined yellow eyes never left the truck. It invoked something within me akin to religion, feeling closer to God whenever I was in their presence. I certainly wasn’t a devout Christian, not after living through my mother’s addiction and death, but being here close to these intelligent, breathtaking creatures, it was hard to desist from the idea that they had been crafted by a hand far superior to anything on Earth.

  I parked and scrambled out, walking around to the tailgate, turning the levers that would open it and allow me to haul out the dead carcasses I’d picked up from Jim’s Meat Works a few miles south.

  “Hey, my angels! How are you doing today? I’ve got dinner. I hope you’re all hungry.”

  I was met with some more growls and heads nudging at the gate. Their acute sense of smell was working overtime as I dragged their feast down onto the dusty ground and over to the fence, my scuffed boots digging into the dirt to gain traction.

  “Okay, you guys are going to have to let me in. You can’t feed if you’re blocking my entry.” I knew they wouldn’t run if I unbolted the gate and left it ajar. They were only focused on what I had beneath my hands and would follow me to the outskirts of the property to get it.

  The males, Zeus, Tango, and Jonas were getting edgy, pushing Sheba and Simba out the way in a display of dominance.

  Any regular person approaching a gate surrounded by fierce, roaring tigers would cower away in fear, but I knew better. I’d learned over the years to read their body language, and in turn, they knew mine and didn’t consider me a threat.

  With the latch unfastened, I pulled the metal gate wide and could barely turn to collect their meal when Zeus leapt forward, positioned his lethally piercing canines around the limp throat of the deer, and hauled it past my feet to about a hundred yards away with the rest of the group following, trying to clasp onto any part of the meat.

  I stood at the gate and watched them all drop to their haunches in a circle of gluttony, sinking their teeth in, the growling instantly ceasing, replaced with the distinct sound of the ripping and tearing of flesh.

  Like a mother satisfied when her children were fed, so too was I when my babies were getting their fill. It was an emotional sight, knowing that I was a part of their freedom and contentment.

  As much as I could have stood and watched them for hours, I still had the lions to feed, so I locked the gate and drove around to the second checkpoint, where they would be waiting just as expectantly.

  They failed to disappoint as I repeated the procedure, this time dragging two carcasses through the gate and watching them get hauled away to be mauled. There were six males and two females in the pride, all fully grown, each with their own personalities and temperaments. I generally didn’t hang around for too long when they were eating, because they weren’t interested in interacting until their bellies were full. Play time was reserved for early mornings when I could drive through the property until I found them and spend more quality time, either one on one or as a group.

  The elephants were pretty much self-sufficient, feeding on plants, grass, roots, and their favorite, tree bark. I did like to spend time with them too, though, just to keep a check on them and make sure they were happy and healthy.

  By the time I finished my rounds, the sun was wearily lowering itself from the dusky sky, the cool temperature cutting through my long-sleeved shirt.

  Dad was already in the kitchen with a pot of coffee on and dinner started, which pleased me to no end. We tended to take it in turns or whoever ended up back at the house first started cooking.

  “Hey, Lil. How did the feeding go?”

  “Great. You’d think they hadn’t eaten in a month. They literally dragged the deer from me and started chowing down.” Removing my brown boots, I moved over to the stove to smell the delicious aroma of Dad’s one-pot wonder—it was my favorite. A bit of this and a bit of that thrown in, some herbs and spices, chicken, and veggies, and it was the best thing anyone would ever taste.

  “That’s what we like to see. If they’re eating and happy, we know there’s nothing we have to worry about.” Dad began stacking the dishwasher and wiping down the countertops as he talked.

  “How’s Mia?” I asked.

  “She’s lying around, not too comfortable, so I’m expecting her to go into labor within the next twenty-four hours. I’ve got Nate watching her until midnight so I can eat and get some shut-eye, and then I’ll take over for him until morning when Daniel starts his shift.”

  “If you need me to sit with her for a while, just let me know.” I poured a mug of coffee and sat down at the table.

  Dad turned to face me, allowing me to see his weary face. He’d been running on vapors since we’d segregated Mia. Even with Daniel and Nate taking turns to watch her, I knew my father slept fitfully, expecting to be woken with the news that she’d gone into labor. We were all so excited about the two new arrivals it was hard to fully relax.

  He combed a hand through his curly, dark hair that was flecked with grey. “Here’s the thing, Lil. Remember me discussing with you the idea I had about starting a program for troubled youth?”

  “Mmm hmm,” I answered on a swallow of my brown, caffeinated tonic. Dad had been talking of this nearly as long as The Sanctuary had been created.

  “I submitted the forms months ago and didn’t hear back. I figured we were unsuccessful. Well, I got a call from the parole board based in LA a few days ago, and it seems they have someone for us to try out. He’ll be twenty in three months and has been in and out of prison for breaking and entering, theft, and drug charges. Part of his parole conditions are that he enrolls in some sort of program that might help put him on the straight and narrow. Sheriff O’Keefe got wind of my proposal that I sent to the LAPD and wants us to give this guy a trial.”

  I whistled at the amount of crimes the guy had racked up at such a young age. “You think you can help him?” My dad was too good. He wanted to change the world. Not just animals but people too. I admired his selfless attitude, but at the same time, I knew that it was unrealistic to think everyone and everything could be changed. Surely a guy who had lived half of his life in trouble with the law didn’t want to clean up.

  “All we can do is try, Lil. I can’t promise anyone anything. Most of it is up to them, but I’d like to think we can help in some way.” Dad opened a cupboard and pulled out two dinner plates, placing them on the table before getting the cutlery.

  “And how do I fit into all this?” I knew something was coming, but I wasn’t sure what.

  “He’s around your age. I’ll be busy with Mia and the new cubs when they arrive, so I’d like you to take this kid under your wing and show him the ropes. Introduce him to the animals and see if we can get him involved.”

  I sputtered the remains of my coffee back into the cup. “You want me to work with this guy? This…this…criminal? Dad, I really don’t think I’m in any position to take on someone who is fresh ou
t of jail and probably doesn’t want to be helped.”

  Attempting to placate me with his hands up, he said, “Now I know it’s a big task, and I wouldn’t throw this on you if it weren’t for the fact that most of my time is going to be taken up with making sure the new cubs get the very best start at life. Once I know that Nate and Daniel can handle things, I’ll have more time to spend getting to know the new guy. Just do what you normally do. The only difference will be you’ll have someone else with you for most of the day.”

  I groaned. I really didn’t need some smart-ass punk dragging his ass behind me all day. Not that I didn’t think the program was a great idea. I did. It’s just that it was my dad’s baby and I wasn’t aware I’d actually have to get too involved.

  “Please, Lil. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t really important.” I hated it when my dad begged. He knew I would cave. God. Why did he have to put this on me? Why couldn’t I refuse my father? I loved him more than anything—that’s why—and if it was so important to him, then I’d just have to shove aside my pigheadedness and agree.

  Pressing out a sigh, I nodded. “Fine, but if he gives me too much grief, I want him either gone or in your care.”

  “Agreed.”

  “So when’s he arriving?”

  Dad gave me one of his “please don’t go mental when I tell you” looks and blurted out, “Tomorrow.”

  “What? What do you mean, tomorrow? No! That’s way too soon.” Ugh, suddenly my happy little bubble was about to be burst by a criminal I had to babysit. My night officially began to suck.

  Chapter Two

  Justice

  Fuck this shit! I was sitting in the back of a middle-aged, jaded parole officer’s car on the way to some goddam zoo. Seriously? It was so pathetic it was laughable. What the hell did they think it was going to achieve? By talking to the freaking animals I’d miraculously become some goody-two-shoes who was going to go to church on Sundays and help old ladies onto busses? Bullshit. Nothing could change who I was. The whole fiasco was just a waste of taxpayers’ money. I didn’t give a damn about anyone or anything, because they sure as hell didn’t care about me. Did they think sending me out into the middle of nowhere was going to save me? I was way beyond that. My heart had frozen over long ago, buried beneath ice so thick it was a wonder the organ still rattled in my chest. I had a skewed view of the world. Twisted out of shape by those that raised me. Pain had become my friend, something I clung to. The last piece of humanity that let me know I was still alive.