“Asshole, asshole, asshole!” she yelled.
Just then her phone rang again.
“What do you want now?” she yelled.
“Now is that any way to greet your man?” Frank asked, and Millie grabbed ahold of the counter with her free hand.
“Ahhh, now that’s more like it. There’s my submissive little angel. I missed talking with you. I can’t wait to see you, Millie.”
“I don’t want to see you. You belong behind bars,” she stated, filled with anger. She shouldn’t antagonize him. But she was in a mood. Her entire life was falling apart.
“How can you say that? You’re the only woman I ever loved, Millie. My life isn’t complete until I have you again.”
“That’s not going to happen, Frank. I don’t know how you connived that therapist to get you out early, but you’re not going to get away with this. I called the police. They’re watching you.”
She stood up and began to pace.
“No one is watching me, Millie. No one can keep me from you.”
Her heart began to pound against her chest. She recognized that tone of his. She knew he meant business and she wouldn’t survive another one of Frank’s beatings. She ran the palm of her hand across her waist then down to her groin where the scar was.
She glanced around her apartment, frantic.
“Your silence is telling me that you know there’s nowhere to turn. We belong together, you and me. We’re a team, Millie, don’t you forget that.”
“We’re not a team, Frank. You nearly killed me.”
She hurried toward her bedroom and packed her suitcase. Detective Flynn had told her to get out of town for a while. Perhaps for good was a better idea.
“I’m going to make that up to you, baby. I had a lot of time to think things through. I know what I need to do.”
“Stop it, Frank! Just stop it now!” she yelled at him.
“Sounds like my baby needs a little discipline. You know I’m the man to do it.”
She hung up on him. Her hands were shaking, the tears streaming down her cheeks.
She recalled his beatings—his so-called disc
iplinary actions when she was “out of line,” as he liked to call it. A smack there, an unexpected jab to her stomach. All in the name of his authority and control. She realized too late that he was abusive, and she was stuck, too embarrassed to tell her friends or get the help she needed. She was scared of him, more scared than anything, including death itself. When she was dying, because that was surely how she felt two years ago, she had given up on life when Stacy showed up and saved her.
Stacy? Oh my God, Stacy and Anna could help. They’re building that new women’s shelter. I would be safe in Pearl.
Chapter 3
Stacy and Anna stood side by side as Jeremy Lewis went over the plans for the set of cottages to be built near the recreational center. Lena was speaking with Anthony, his brother, about the computer images they had worked on.
“I think this will be the best spot. It’s not too far from the ranch and we can tie in the electrical, well water, and so forth pretty easily, Stacy,” Jeremy stated, and she nodded her head but then glanced at her watch. She was worried about Millie, and so was Anna. That’s when she felt the hand on her elbow.
“She’ll be fine. She called before she boarded the plane. She should be here shortly. Wyatt picked her up so we know she’s safe and nearby,” Anna told her.
“Who’s that?” Jeremy asked.
“Our good friend from New York is moving back here. Do you remember Millie Donovan, Marie Lamorte’s niece?” Anna asked Jeremy.
“I don’t think I do. You said Marie is her aunt?” Jeremy asked.
“Yes. She practically raised her.”