Anna made a funny-sounding noise with her mouth. “You are so full of shit, Millie. I saw your cheeks blush when Jeremy shook your hand then lowered the map so you could see. That was mighty sweet of him.”
“Yeah, and Anthony looked like he was memorizing your e
very feature. I nearly offered him a hankie to wipe his drool,” Stacy added and both she and Anna chuckled.
“You two better cut it out. I’m not planning on entertaining any men for quite some time. I’ve been burned and burned again and this woman needs to regroup. I’ll get an update from Detective Flynn tomorrow and see what the plan is. In the interim, I’ll try to help you as much as possible with the women’s shelter.”
Anna clapped her hands and squealed, and Stacy smiled wide then gave a fist punch in the air.
“Yes! We are going to make an awesome team. I can’t wait for you to meet Lena, Millie. You’re going to love her. Most importantly, the crew is back together again after years of being apart,” Stacy stated, and the three of them smiled as tears filled Millie’s eyes.
Chapter 6
Detective Flynn had the landlord unlock Millie’s apartment for him. He entered and scanned the area, not noticing anything out of the ordinary. Millie appeared to be a neat freak. Further investigation in the bedroom initially brought him some concern. He sniffed the air and smelled both perfume and men’s cologne. But he dismissed it. He knew nothing of Millie’s love life and didn’t want to assume the worst. He knew that Millie had left in a hurry and had packed some suitcases and jewelry. Things were knocked over, including a photo album that lay on the floor. He glanced around the room and noticed a desk in the corner. The narrow drawer was tipped over and all the contents were spread out on the rug. That didn’t seem like something Millie would do as she gathered her things for a quick escape.
His gut instincts kicked in and he was in police mode as he moved closer, trying to find out if the culprit had been Frank.
He took out his handkerchief and picked up the photo album. Flipping through the pages, he noticed a torn picture and then a page that seemed to be missing a picture. She could have taken them with her instead of the entire album, but that didn’t sit right with him. He would have to ask Millie.
He looked around the room and nothing really stood out, so he entered the kitchen. Detective Flynn didn’t like the feeling he had. Frank Bennett was slick and conniving.
He walked into the kitchen and noticed some things on the counter. Moving closer, he saw what appeared to be a long, thick stick that had one side wrapped in thick electrical tape like a handle and the other end was narrower. There was a note on a piece of paper that said, “Pain equals submission and respect.”
Detective Flynn swallowed hard. Millie was in trouble and it appeared that Frank had been in her apartment. He knew this weapon. And indeed it was a weapon. Detective Flynn recalled the scene of the attack on Millie. Frank had been beating her with a similar weapon. He had come onto the scene after a desperate call from Stacy. That woman had been incredibly brave and determined to save her friend.
The detective shook his head as he looked at the weapon. He had to find Frank before Frank located Millie.
* * * *
It was six o’clock in the morning and Millie sat on her front porch looking out toward the fields. She inhaled, smelling all the old scents of country life and the thick indicator that the horse stables were just beyond the row of large trees and her Aunt Marie’s home.
She missed those scents and strangely enough, they provided some comforting feelings. She took another sip of the fresh-brewed coffee and exhaled. Last night had been fun hanging out with Stacy and Anna, but once she got back to the cottage and settled in, fear began to ride her mind hard. Both Anna and Stacy noticed her reservations and offered for her to stay at one of their houses until Millie was ready to be by herself. But she didn’t want to admit to that weakness, especially with their men nearby. Millie didn’t want to be that weak, fragile female she had been years ago when involved with Frank. No, things were different. She was different.
She took a shaky breath, her subconscious reminding her about her faults and about how easily Frank put fear into her. Did that make her the same weak woman from two years ago? As much as she hoped not, the reality was clear as day. Apparent in her shaky hands, her rapid heartbeat, and the anxiety that he was out there, he was looking for her and he wanted her dead.
She had had little sleep and mostly tossed and turned last night because of similar thoughts. She didn’t miss the sounds of living in the city, the slight hum of traffic outside her apartment complex, and the bright city lights invading the blinds in her apartment. Surely the quiet sounds of night in the country on a ranch were more appealing and better for a good night’s sleep. However, that same quietness that once brought her peace and relaxation had her anxiety levels higher. The creaking of the old porch as the wind blew and the sounds of bugs in the night had her straining to hear what she really feared—the footsteps of a man coming to get her, the crackling of leaves beneath his feet as he approached the cottage, ready to strike. Crazy thoughts like that had kept her up most of the night. She knew that she wasn’t completely alone out here and that her aunt’s workers were yards away in their sleeping quarters, but still, her mind played tricks on her. It became apparent that she was still deathly afraid of Frank.
She swallowed hard, feeling her heart rate increase and her throat clog up. Then she took a sip of coffee to try and alleviate the sensation.
Then came the anger. She had worked hard after surviving the attack. She never wanted to be a victim again. Now images of Stewart jumped into her mind. She shook her head and sighed. So much for gaining back self-confidence and taking all those martial arts classes. She had been just shy of achieving her black belt when Stewart demanded that she quit messing around and act more ladylike. She, of course, didn’t stand her ground and she caved in. Her instructors were disappointed and so was she.
When will I gain a backbone and learn to stand up for myself? Where do I go from here?
She heard the horses approaching and glanced up to see two cowboys in the distance. She smiled at the sight. It appeared the men were hours into their work already and here she was sitting around feeling sorry for herself.
She shook her head as enthusiasm for the day ahead motivated her movements. Standing, she stretched, took a breath of fresh country air, and headed inside the cottage to start her day. Anna and Stacy were picking her up at nine to go into town.
Change begins within myself, and today is a first step toward that change.
Chapter 7
“Jacob Frost, is that any way to treat your brother, a fellow student?” Dalton Lewis asked his student as Jacob tripped his brother, Thomas, then sat on him. He had to hide his chuckle. They were young and quite the handful. It was tough sometimes teaching martial arts to children, but Hank and his brother loved doing it.
“Sorry, Sensei Dalton, but he’s annoying,” Jacob responded as he continued to sit on his five-year-old brother.
“Get up off of him now, Jacob, and get serious.”
“I am not annoying. I do better front roll dan him, dat why Jacob mad at me,” little Thomas replied as he attempted to wiggle his way from under Jacob.