Dictator s Daughter Read online

  The Dictator’s Daughter

  Scars of Defiance: Book Two

  By Lorena Angell

  Copyright 2011 Lorena Angell

  Smashwords Edition

  Second Edition 2011

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Lorena Angell.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is entirely coincidental. The names, characters, places and incidents are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  For more titles by Lorena Angell:

  http://lorenaangell.blogspot.com

  Chapter 1

  In the dark cold room, Eliwese sat nearly naked on the floor with her back against the wall and her knees pulled close to her chest. She shivered from the coolness, due to the fact she’d been stripped down to her bra and panties before being shoved inside, which perplexed her. Why was she being treated this way? This was supposed to be a safe location. And yet, upon arrival she was treated like a prisoner, even though her identity was well known to all.

  Another shiver wracked her body. Her petite shoulders and neck might have been a little warmer at present if she hadn’t chopped off her long auburn locks that had taken most of her twenty-two years to grow to the small of her back. However, she knew cutting and dyeing her only pride and joy was a necessity to further her disguise and complete her mission.

  The dank room was void of furniture and the color of the walls reminded her of the pond at the sewage treatment plant. The dusty hardwood floor held no heat and gave zero comfort. Her eyes traveled up to a minuscule window set high on the wall on the other side of the room letting in a small amount of light. Oddly enough, security bars were attached to the outside of the opening. The chance of anyone escaping through such a small gap was depressing enough. What purpose did the bars serve?

  She heard low male voices outside the door, her whole body tensed with fear and she pulled her knees even closer to her chest.

  The rusty hinges on the door squealed as it was pushed open. Her eyes squinted shut due to the extreme difference in lighting. Once they adjusted she saw the silhouettes of three muscular, broad-shouldered men stalking toward her while a fourth stood in the doorway. She inched away from them as much as she could. She smelled rank sweat and strong liquor and heard the low rumble of their collective breathing as they stood over her like sentinels, blocking her in and preventing her escape.

  The man at the door issued the two-word command the three men were waiting for.

  “Do it.” He said with little more than a rasp as he turned away and closed the door.

  Pain beyond measure ripped through her small body. She would have screamed if the first kick to her ribs hadn’t taken her wind away. Never before had she been beaten like this, and she had had her share of beatings. Her mind settled on the all too familiar place of tranquility, the place she took her mind when her surroundings were too much to handle —a beautiful beach with crystal blue water and cloudless skies, perhaps it was somewhere in the Caribbean— She fell over sideways and curled up in the fetal position in an effort to protect her body as much as possible. Darkness overtook her as she lost consciousness.

  Eliwese awoke on a small cot in the same dark room with every inch of her body in pain. She lay perfectly still taking mental inventory of her injuries when she became aware of a presence in the room. A man sat on a wooden chair, leaning back on two legs against the wall.

  Everything she’d been told about the underground led her to believe she would be safe here. No one had warned her of a possible attack or beating. She would have prepared by bracing her mind to think of it as a small price to pay for the end results, or rationalized the abuse as a means to an end, but this had caught her off guard. This place proved to be no different than any other place she’d gone.

  She tried to focus on the man’s face but she couldn’t make her eyes cooperate, and she realized one eye had swollen completely shut. She couldn’t take deep breaths because of the excruciating pain in her ribs. Her left leg between the knee and ankle had sharp pains and was most likely broken. She tried to wiggle her left hand and fingers but it was no good, too much pain. As she finished up her evaluation of her physical condition, a wave of relief flooded over her body; she had not been raped.

  She let out a small sigh which caught the attention of the man against the wall. He leaned forward, bringing the two front legs of his chair down to the floor with a thud. Eliwese jumped with a start, which in turn, sent pain coursing throughout her body.

  The man stood up and walked over to her side.

  “Eliwese, Eliwese…. what am I going to do with you?”

  His all too recognizable voice resonated through her small body. Why was he here at the secret underground compound? This place was where people fled to in order to hide from him. Somebody must have ratted her out; and now her plan had failed before it had even begun.

  “I warned you, I threatened you, but you wouldn’t listen to me. Somewhere deep inside is a constant churning of senselessness and you should be smarter than this, Eliwese.” His breath reeked of tobacco and whiskey and sickened her as each burst of air hit her cheek. She had never been able to tolerate his smell. The memories associated with his aroma nauseated her and bile began to climb up her throat.

  She tried to talk but only a gurgle would come out. Her tongue seemed to fill her entire mouth and she tasted blood; fear overtook her body and mind. She thought about how this man had been such a significant part of her life up to this point, the one man she was truly running from, and now he knew of her plans. She wondered if he would return her home, or simply kill her.

  His size out-measured hers, along with his age, by a long shot. He bent low over her cot and placed his hand on the side of her face, caressing her gently as a lover would. She cringed at his attempt of tenderness and was disgusted at the thought of what would come next.

  “You think by cutting your hair and changing its color you can hide from me?” He ran his fingers through her short black hair. Her scalp hurt in places that, no doubt, were bruised and swollen from the attack. She flinched away from his contact and squeezed her one good eye shut in an effort to get him to stop. He leaned even closer and whispered in her ear, “You’ll never be rid of me, little one. I know where you’re going, hell, I arranged everything.” He laughed sadistically.

  “You?” Her throat wouldn’t let her say anything else, she didn’t need to.

  “Does this shock you, Eliwese?”

  She closed her eyes in resignation.

  “I will keep my eye on you and I will always know what you are doing. I will always know who you are with and if you think for a second you can escape my grasp, I’ll kill your mother and sister.” He straightened himself upright towering over her.

  “Father?” She attempted to ask if her father knew about the underground.

  “Oh, Victor will get what’s coming to him. I’ll handle him when it will best suit my endeavors. You see, once my place is secured in the palace, he will no longer be needed.”

  His comment both answered her prior question and gave her an all new one. Clearly, her father didn’t realize what his closest confidant was up to.

  “
So, go take your little vacation, Eliwese, but never forget I will,” he said emphatically as he unfastened his belt, “father the next ruler of Rendier.”

  **********

  Sean Cutler sat on the bench at Bill’s Pharmacy waiting for his order to be filled. He ran his fingers through his dark brown hair, realizing he needed a haircut soon. He preferred his hair to be short, trim and clean cut.

  He watched the other customers with amusement as he waited. A young mother wrestled with her son who couldn’t have been more than four years old. He wanted candy but his mother refused. By the way the little boy carried on, Sean figured the candy would win out in the end. It did.

  An elderly man stood in line with the aid of his walker, smiling at the young female cashier. The girl chomped on her bubblegum and threw flirtatious glances to a handsome young man who happened to be standing behind the elderly man. Poor old guy, Sean thought, he thinks she’s flirting with him.

  Sean glanced over to the newspaper magazine rack and read some of the headlines: ‘Record Trout caught on Slater Lake weighing nineteen pounds.’ Another title read: ‘Northtown gears up for visit from Rendierian leader, Victor Rawlings.’

  Great, Sean thought to himself sarcastically, Rawlings in our back yard; that’s just what we need. He wondered what would bring the dictator to their country.

  Another headline read: ‘Jaime Knutson’s exclusive interview with Victor Rawlings and the state of his country.’ The smaller print read: ‘Pres. Rawlings gives an inside look into his country’s largest diamond mine, deep in the Trejo Mountain Range.’

  Sean walked over to the magazine and thumbed through to find the article. He skimmed through the story touching on the absurd claims that the nation was in the best financial situation in one-hundred years. The individual comments of praise and admiration for Victor Rawlings made Sean think that perhaps behind the camera stood a soldier toting an M60 for gentle persuasion. Right, like Rendierians need persuasion to say kind things about their leader; if they said anything negative today they’d be missing tomorrow. Still, most people around the world believed this insane propaganda.

  Even in Slaterville, the closest town to the border of Rendier, most residents weren’t aware of the dangers lurking nearby. Sean understood all too well because of his upbringing. His own mother Sara Cutler escaped from Rendier when she was eighteen.

  He put the magazine back and his eye caught a men’s magazine featuring a well known shirtless movie star on the front. Sean compared his own body with the picture. The only thing the movie star had over Sean was about fifty-million dollars.

  At twenty-four years of age, Sean’s features were chiseled and well-defined. His physique was anything but wimpy and he didn’t have an ounce of fat on him. Unfortunately, a hunky body wasn’t always enough. In fact, the cute young cashier probably drooled over the pictured movie star, but would she think the same of Sean?

  “Cutler,” the pharmacist called out and Sean walked over to pay for the prescriptions. He caught the attention of the cashier and smiled at her. She didn’t give him the time of day. Yep, nailed that one on the head, Sean mused to himself.

  Sean exited the building into the cool fall air. The late afternoon sun shone brightly, illuminating all of the changing colors filling the valley where he lived. Many trees were still green but they wouldn’t stay that way for long. He took a deep lungful of the crisp, clean autumn air and walked to his truck. He climbed in and emptied the bag of medications on the seat. He scanned the contents to make sure the entire order was filled correctly. Everything checked out and he crammed the bottles back inside the bag. He put it with the other supplies he’d collected on his errand run for his mother.

  Today’s errand running had also involved driving a man to the Northtown Airport. ‘James’ escaped from Rendier a little over a month ago and had been ‘in hiding’ at Sean’s home. Today, ‘James’ began his new life as a Baylend resident under a new assumed name and identity.

  Sean’s family, including his mother and father, younger brother and older sister, all worked together in the dangerous and illegal business of housing border crossers. For four generations the Cutler family has continued to help crossers, and if Sean’s parents had their way, they’d continue until death.

  He started his truck and began to drive back home. Sean loved the small town he lived in with the impressive mountain ranges framing the valley. The northern Seojo mountains were spectacular and beautiful, and the southern Trejo range were rugged and ominous; Rendier lay beyond the thirty mile vastness of that range along with Victor Rawlings, his dormant military and all of his submissive countrymen.

  Sean looked to the Seojo Mountains and imagined the wind in his face as he raced down one of the many ski slopes. Winter would arrive soon and he hoped he would be able to hit the slopes at least once. Maybe his fiancée, Chandra, would try to learn this winter.

  Sean signaled to turn into the parking lot of The DoubleScoop ice cream parlor. Chandra worked today and Sean had a hankering for some Double Chocolate Fudge. After parking, he entered the busy shop and got in line. He saw his fiancée serving customers and she caught his eye. He winked and she smiled. From a reasonable distance, she was every man’s dream.

  “How may I help you, sir?” she spoke in her super sweet voice as Sean stepped up to place his order.

  “The usual, ma’am,” he announced formally.

  “You always eat the same thing. Why don’t you try something else like this Pistachio Dream?” She tried to tantalize his senses with the wave of her hand.

  “Nope, I stick with what I know, and I know Double Chocolate Fudge is good.”

  She scooped up his serving. “So, what are you doing here?”

  “What time do you get off tonight?”

  “Really? Are you finally free?” Her eyes lit up with excitement.

  “Yes. I took him to the airport this morning.” He smiled even though she’d just jabbed his chosen form of employment. The all too familiar nagging voice in the back of his mind told him once again, like it had so many other times, run, stupid, run.

  “Well, it’s about time. Six o’clock.” She handed him the ice cream and he gave her money.

  “Do you want me to pick you up?” He asked.

  “No, I’ll come to your house.”

  “Alright, see you then.” Sean left the store with his dessert and sat in his truck to eat it. His mind wandered to Chandra and their relationship. He met Chandra Stevens at The DoubleScoop earlier that spring when he stopped in for his favorite Double Chocolate Fudge. Her beauty and smoking hot body sucked him right in. She was new to the area with plans to attend the community college in the fall. Their dating relationship accelerated and before Sean knew it, he was engaged. He technically didn’t even propose to her. She simply convinced him it would be wonderful to be married to him and persuaded him to purchase a pricey diamond ring for her.

  Whenever Sean thought about Chandra, his thoughts would get muddled. He couldn’t sort out exactly what he felt for her, and it was too exhausting to try to talk to her about it. She had a way about her that seemed to smooth out all the rough edges, yet expose all new ones. Sean attributed most of her behavior to the fact they didn’t get much time together. Housing border crossers didn’t allow for much quality time.

  Her ambitions of going to college never materialized. Whenever Sean brought up the topic, she’d say, “I think the woman’s place is in the home with the children, like your mother. You’re the man; you should provide me a home to raise our children.” Nothing made Sean squirm more than the thought of little ‘Chandras’ running around. Yet, she was beautiful, so Sean should just be happy she wanted him, or at least that’s what she said.

  Sean turned out on the road leading him home. He passed small businesses and shops on his way and a couple of bed and breakfast establishments. It was interesting how this small group of businesses had successfully kept the larger hotel chains out of Slaterville. However, what amazed him furt
her was how these bed and breakfasts’ helped disguise Sean’s family business. Anyone watching closely would assume the Cutler’s operated a bed and breakfast too.

  Sean drove his truck down the road toward his home. He gazed out to the right, at the crisp, blue water of Slater Lake. Its surface was perfectly calm, like glass, with one lonely fishing boat situated in the middle. Sean looked out his left window at the many houses facing the beautiful view. He slowed his truck down and turned left, into the driveway of his parents’ home.

  Sean remembered something Chandra had said when he first brought her home to meet his family, “You still live with your parents?” Her rebuke had insulted him. He worked here. This was not only his home, it was his place of employment, whether she liked it or not. However, once they married, he’d have to figure something else out. She had said, in no uncertain terms, that she would not live under his parent’s roof.

  Sean turned his truck off and with graceful efficiency gathered all of the bags and sacks from the errand run. He bumped the door of his truck with his hip to close it and inhaled another deep breath of the clean air. This time the air had a slight taste of moisture from Slater Lake.

  Sean’s muscular build and tall frame easily carried the load to the kitchen. After he put everything down, he proceeded up to his room to begin the standard cleaning performed every time a crosser left. James had stayed in Sean’s room like all the other males and the female crossers stayed in his sister Lyndee’s room.

  The cleaning process was the same; change the bed, clean the bathroom, vacuum and air out the room. The thorough cleaning had therapeutic benefits for Sean. It gave him time to reflect on the life of the crosser who’d moved on. He would ponder on their futures and find himself hoping they would be able to throw off the heavy weight of their past life.

  As Sean flipped open the fresh sheet on his king sized bed, he felt like he was opening up a fresh page in the ever-continuing saga of defectors from Rendier. Who would be the next visitor to their home? What kind of life would they be fleeing? What kind of effect would the next one have on him?