Defensive Instructor - Debra Parmley Read online

  “I’m done playing,” he’d said. She hadn’t been aware they were playing. Might’ve been nice if he’d informed her.

  Her confidence and self-esteem had hit rock bottom.

  Enter Phineas.

  But this was not the real Chyna. So in a way, she wasn’t really herself, just as he wasn’t really himself. And when a marriage starts out that way, it doesn’t stand a chance. But that was over now, and it was time to move on. She forced her thoughts to a more pleasant topic.

  One of the perks of this trip was the limo ride from the bus station out to the ranch, like the celebrities who visited Montana. This would be so very nice.

  No more high walls with keypad entries. No more staying inside, except for the screened in porch behind those high walls, which didn’t feel like being outside at all. Though it did give fresh air. It was a shame women and children hiding from abusers had to stay inside when they’d done nothing wrong, while their abusers, who’d done horrible things, roamed free. Here in Montana, they’d see clear skies and wide open spaces.

  She’d been six months preparing. There’d been follow up visits to the doctor after the hospital released her, months of counseling, and a few court appearances. Phineas was still in jail, and that would’ve made her safe if not for his cousins, Albert, Trey and Micah, who’d hid that body. He could easily send one of them after her, and then she might disappear forever.

  “I’m out. Thanks, man.” Barrett finished sparring with Swede and Gunny, dripping with sweat, and reached for his water bottle.

  The men from Brotherhood Protectors often trained together, and when they practiced martial arts and other attack and defense movements, they went more than one-on-one. Because in the real world, attacks often came from multiple opponents, and they didn’t play fair. In the real world, attacks didn’t usually happen in air-conditioned surroundings either. Today, they were outside in the Montana August heat. Extra water was essential.

  As the men stood catching their breath and rehydrating, Gunny’s phone rang. He took the call. “Hey, Lucy. Want me to pick up anything on the way home?”

  Barrett half-listened while he wiped his face and neck with a hand towel, rubbing it over the two days' growth of stubble and wondering if he should shave the two-day short beard look off. Would he appear intimidating to the women who were soon to arrive at the center? He was a tall guy, worked out and was bigger than the average guy, and the intimidating look came easy to him.

  “Hey Gunny, before you get off the phone…”

  Gunny’s head turned in his direction. “Hold on,” he said into the phone.

  “Ask Lucy if I look too intimidating. See what she thinks about if I should shave my beard.”

  Gunny, going back to the phone, asked Lucy. He listened for a minute, then frowned and said, “I’ll tell him.” Turning back to Barrett, he said, “Lucy said to tell you the beard is sexy and not to shave it off. You’d be just as intimidating without it.” Then he went back to the phone. “Sexy, huh? Something you want to tell me?”

  Barrett could tell Gunny wasn’t happy to hear his girlfriend thought Barrett looked sexy. Well hell, no man wants to hear his woman say that about another man.

  When Gunny hung up the phone, Barrett said, “When are you gonna propose?”

  Still frowning, Gunny said, “Soon.”

  “Sooner is better than later, with women,” Swede said. “You’ve told all of us you want to marry her, so why haven’t you told her?”

  “I was waiting on the ring,” Gunny said. “Waiting on them to finish it.”

  “All right, then,” Barrett said. “Be sure to tell her I’m hoping she’ll invite her hot single girlfriends.”

  Barrett’s last three girlfriends hadn’t worked out. The first, he’d dated the longest, but couldn’t get over her chain smoking. They had fun, but she was never going to quit, not for him. She’d as much as said so. He liked her a lot but got tired of kissing her smoke-flavored lips once the initial attraction and chemistry wore off. No more dating women who tasted like cigarettes. That was too big of a turn-off.

  His second girlfriend decided to marry an old boyfriend, and his third, a flight attendant, moved to London; with her new route and schedule, he’d hardly see her. They’d both decided to call that off. So, Barrett was currently unattached. Probably why Gunny wasn’t comfortable hearing that from his girl.

  Gunny ought to know I’d never in one hundred years sleep with one of my buddy’s current girlfriends. You don’t stab your brothers in the back like that.

  “Yeah. Okay,” Gunny said. Barrett had no idea what Gunny was thinking.

  “Did you get the ring?” Swede asked.

  “Picking it up tomorrow,” Gunny said.

  “Great,” Barrett said. “Best of luck, bro.”

  “Thanks,” Gunny said.

  “Hey, you ready?” Swede asked. He and Gunny had ridden together. They were planning to go talk to Hank next so he could fill them in on an upcoming job.

  “Yeah,” Gunny said. “Later, bro.”

  “Later,” Barrett said.

  He had to run over to Three Cs to check out the new gun range and talk to George about their set up. Everything needed to be in place before he’d start teaching the self-defense class. Hank had put Barrett in charge right after he volunteered, and he was looking forward to the challenge. Helping abused women stay alive was moved to the top of his priority list. He’d even offered to teach on Saturdays, when his schedule was free. Since he wasn’t dating now, there was no one to object.

  Chyna Taylor got off the bus in Montana and adjusted her wig. The hot, itchy thing had been on her all the way from Cincinnati, and though Bertha had kept her mind off it for a while, she’d only ridden halfway before she got off at her destination.

  Montana was hotter than Chyna had expected, though it was August and she’d known it would be hot. This was the first time she’d ever seen heat rising up through the air. She blinked several times, thinking to clear her gaze, but the heat waves remained in front of her.

  Picking up her backpack and carry on, which held all her belongings now that she’d sold everything, she moved off the bus and onto the hot sidewalk. Everyone from the bus headed the same way, toward the bus terminal.

  The limo will be here any minute, if it isn’t here already.

  Outside the terminal, she looked left and right but didn’t see a limo. Disappointed, she headed into the building. It would’ve been reassuring if the limo had been there already, waiting for her.

  Everything had gone well so far, but this was a crucial point in her trip. She wasn’t supposed to draw attention. She needed to change out of her disguise in the ladies room without letting anyone know she’d done it. She needed to be almost invisible. Just another woman passing through and forgotten. Her stomach was in jitters.

  A man wearing jeans, cowboy boots, a black T-shirt and a cowboy hat who’d been on the same bus followed her into the terminal. She moved toward the ladies room, and he was still following her. Hopefully, he was headed for the men’s room.

  She stopped for a drink of water at the drinking fountain to watch him. Bending, she took a drink and noted behind her that he’d leaned against the wall. His gaze was on her.

  He hadn’t gone into the men’s room. He was following and watching her.

  Oh no. This was bad.

  She finished her drink and then turned to head for the little store without looking backward but feeling as if he was back there, watching, maybe following.

  I have to look normal. I need chocolate. Thin mints.

  Her mind was racing. Her stomach was now doing flips.

  Mint is good for tummy troubles. Thin mints. There they are. But where is he?

  She was afraid to look. Finding the mints and paying for them, she didn’t turn to look until she was done.

  Oh no.

  He was headed for the shop right where she stood. She moved away from the shop and decided to step outside to look for the limo agai
n. How long had it been? Everything felt like it was happening so fast. She had the urge to run, just as fast as she could, away from the terminal.

  Where was the limo?

  She wasn’t supposed to enter it wearing this. She had to get changed. She had to make sure no one knew.

  Heading back into the terminal, she looked for the man. Her heart was racing. He was leaning against the wall again, in the same position as before. Was he connected to Phineas? Had she been followed onto the bus? Was he watching for her to come out of the restroom? Did Phineas somehow know her plan?

  Her mind was racing. She glanced back through the door and saw a limo had just pulled up to the curb. It slowed and then drove away again.

  Oh no. Did they leave me?

  Sweat was pouring down her neck, down her back. Beneath the long black wig, she was hot, itchy and frightened. Glancing back at the man, who stood leaning against the wall, she saw him glance her way.

  What should I do now?

  Chapter 2

  She wanted to run, but she couldn’t. She was frozen on the spot as her heart raced. She dropped her package of candy.

  The man glanced from her to the door of the ladies room, then back again as she bent to pick up the bag.

  Don’t draw attention.

  But she had. Others had glanced at her as she bent to pick up the bag.

  Damn. I don’t know what to do.

  Run! her body screamed.

  Grabbing the bag, she stood, looking at the man.

  The ladies room door opened, and he turned to look at it.

  A tall, bubbly blonde came out the door and threw her arms wide, and he moved into them. They hugged, and he handed her the candy. His attention was all on the blonde now.

  Chyna let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding. The stress that filled her body began to back off, slowly. Her heart still raced. She took a step and a breath, moving toward the ladies room, hyperaware of everyone around her.

  Thank God. He wasn’t. Thank God. With each step she took toward the ladies room, she wondered, Are people watching? Have I drawn attention?

  The couple moved past her, ignoring her completely as they exited the building.

  She entered the ladies room and watched a few women move in and out. She washed her hands nervously, still watching, then dried them and stepped into a stall. She leaned her head against the door, waiting for her heart rate to slow.

  Chocolate. I need that chocolate. Now.

  Fumbling with shaky hands, she opened the package and popped a thin mint into her mouth. Closing her eyes, she simply ate the chocolate and took slow, deep breaths.

  Calmer now, she began her metamorphosis. She was hot and sweating and couldn’t wait to get these things off her. The hot, itchy wig was the first thing to go. Removing it, she felt ten degrees cooler. Next was the long sleeved white blouse with thin blue stripes. Removing a dark plastic trash bag from her backpack, she placed both items inside. Beneath the blouse, she wore a white cotton tank top that now clung to her body. Air-conditioned air moved over her body, cooling it. She removed the tank top, rolled it up and stuck it into the bag. She wanted to lose the bra because she’d gotten so sweaty, so she pulled it off and stuck it into her backpack. She’d wash it later. She only had two, but she’d have nothing clean to change into when she arrived if she wore it now, and no one was going to see her in the limo. She pulled on another a black tank top and then a fresh gray T-shirt. It might be cool in the limo, not hot. If it wasn’t, she could pull off the T-shirt. Taking off the white tennis shoes, she pulled on a pair of thin sandals. All the while, her scare had her thinking.

  There was a chance Phineas would try to find her. He was crazy, unpredictable, and still considered her his wife; even after the divorce papers were signed. She’d had to wait six months because he wouldn’t sign. The judge forced the divorce.

  You couldn’t make someone stay married to you, but Phineas thought you could. Till death do you part. He kept repeating that. He would never give up.

  Finn paced and thought again about his wife, Chyna. He needed money, and he didn’t need a wife who wouldn’t obey him. But he had a wife, and he was going to have to force her to obey.

  Hell, it said in the marriage service the wife had to obey. Women did it all the time. All the women in his family did it. Just what the hell was her problem?

  All he’d wanted her to do was put his name on the house. He’d married her, given her his family name. Not every woman was lucky enough to be a Robbins. And anyway, her tits weren’t big enough. He’d offered to pay for a boob job once they were married and she was finally his. Stupid bitch should’ve taken him up on it.

  Where the hell had her sudden defiance come from? She’d been so agreeable before.

  It was true what his father had said. Stick a ring on a woman’s finger, and she stops trying. Doesn’t even care if she’s attractive to men anymore. Thinks she’s got you right where she wants you. Next thing you know, she’ll be putting on weight and stop putting out on a regular basis because she thinks she doesn’t have to try anymore.

  You have to show the woman who wears the pants and keep the pants off her.

  Pants off and legs spread, that’s how a woman should be. And make sure she understands that and doesn’t ever forget it.

  Probably why his dad had eight kids and his wives hadn’t lived long. There’d been several infant deaths the family never brought up. Couldn’t bring 'em back, so it was best to move on and plant another baby in the woman.

  Dammit. Chyna should’ve been popping out our first baby any day now. He needed to sow more seed in her. Damn woman hadn’t stuck around long enough, let alone stayed on her back with her legs spread. He knew she’d liked it, because he’d made it good for her so she’d come first. You had to do that with a new wife till she got used to how things were going to be. So what the hell was her problem?

  He knew three women who’d do anything for another taste of his cock. He could call them, and they’d come running. But Chyna carried his name, and she was his wife. Yet, he couldn’t get her to do a damn thing. Like putting the house in both their names. He wouldn’t let anyone hear about that. Whatever the hell had gone wrong, he needed to turn this thing around.

  I’m going to show that bitch who's in charge. Hell yeah. She asked for a divorce and made the courts force it through. But this isn’t the end. We were joined in a church, took vows before God, and there’s not a man or woman on Earth who can break that. No, she’s still mine. No woman ever divorces a Robbins. And my wife sure as hell isn’t going to be the first.

  Chyna wondered if she’d be on the run for the rest of her life, looking over her shoulder. She’d thought one bus ride and a stay at the center would be enough.

  One step at a time. That’s what Anita always says. One step at a time.

  Finishing, she came out of the stall and dropped the plastic bag into the trashcan.

  “Learn and burn,” she said. “Learn and burn.”

  She hadn’t been the only one with burn on her mind. He’d been so furious with her, he’d set her house on fire. Now it was her turn to burn something, and she was determined to burn everything in her past. Those were not bridges she ever wanted to cross again.

  After wearing that wig for so long, her long blonde hair was a sweaty mess, even pulled up and pinned up. She took a light grey ball cap out of her backpack and pulled it onto her head. The cap had an embroidered horse on it. Once outside, she’d add the sunglasses. She pulled them out and held them in her hand.

  Walking at a normal pace so as not to draw attention, Chyna moved toward the front door.

  There was the limo. It had that same horse emblem on the side. Good. It’s the right one. I just have to make it to the limo, and then I’m almost there.

  She put the sunglasses on and walked toward the limo as casually as she could, when all she really wanted to do was run to it, dive in, and say, “Home, James.”

  The driver was out and ope
ning the door for her. He knew to look for the girl in the grey ball cap. She knew the code word.

  As she approached, he said, “Welcome to Montana. I hope you’ll enjoy your stay, and remember to wear sunscreen.”

  Sunscreen. That’s the code word. Good. It must be safe.

  “Thank you. Yes, I packed sunscreen, but I’m not sure it’s strong enough for this sun.”

  She’d let him know she knew the code and wasn’t sure if she’d been followed or not. She’d tell him what happened once they drove away.

  He held the door, and she climbed in and shrugged off her backpack. He closed her door and put her carry on in the trunk and then went around to the driver’s side to get in.

  Now her past could stay in the past. She’d made it through six months of therapy and had enough funds to move somewhere new and start her new life. Here in Montana, starting with this moment, she’d begin a new life. More than a new chapter in her life, this was a new book. She wouldn’t ever open the old one again if she could help it.

  The limo driver looked into the mirror, and they made eye contact. “I’m Sam. Buckle up, Ms. Lacey.”

  Chyna liked the sound of that. Never had she appreciated her maiden name so much. “Thank you, Sam. I’m glad you’re here. I looked before when I got off the bus, but you weren’t here yet.”

  “I circled before I picked you up,” Sam said. “That’s the protocol. Then again when you weren’t out front. We check the perimeter and watch who might be watching us and check if anyone is following.”

  “I appreciate the safety precautions.”

  “Now, tell me why you aren’t sure if you’ve been followed,” he spoke as he drove and checked his mirrors for a tail.

  “I was real nervous going in to change, and I thought a man was following me. Well, he was following me a little bit.”

  Sam’s gaze met hers in the mirror. “Don’t ignore your intuition. Go on.”