They were seriously intense men and she hoped that she could follow through with her decision. She was truly tired of living in fear and being scared of Frank. Perhaps Dalton and Hank could help her gain some confidence back so she wouldn’t be such a scaredy-cat anymore.
Chapter 11
“Why are you doing this, Frank? Please talk to me. We can discuss the feelings that you’re having,” Sheila pleaded as Frank pulled the restraints tighter. She had opened up a savings account for him after he cried about not being able to get a job as an ex-con. His acting and sob story worked and he was fifty thousand richer. He had withdrawn the money and decided to keep her around for a little longer. He had gotten a little information from Clare about Millie’s ex-lover, Stewart. The little fuck used Millie for her body and now he would suffer. Millie never should have been with another man. She belonged to him and no one else. Hadn’t he made himself clear the last time they were together? He walked over to the piece of shit and tugged on the ropes.
“I know you’re awake. You can’t be that much of a wuss,” he yelled at Stewart, who was tied to chair, bloody and nearly unconscious.
“Please, I don’t know what you want,” Stewart moaned.
Frank looked over at Sheila, who was as white as a ghost and perspiring with fear. The good doctor would see firsthand what he was capable of. No therapy of any kind could truly help a man like him. He wasn’t sick. He was in love and would do anything for that love. No one was going to stand in his way.
“Where is she?” Frank asked Stewart.
“I don’t know,” Stewart cried like a blubbering sissy.
Frank struck him with a backhand across the cheek. Stewart moaned.
“Don’t, Frank. Leave him alone,” Sheila cried out.
He pointed at her from a few feet away.
“Shut up, bitch! You’re next.”
He grabbed Stewart by his shirt and shook him.
“Think, Stewart! Think, damn it. Where the hell is Millie? I want my woman back, asshole.”
“I don’t know. I can’t think.”
Frank punched Stewart in the stomach.
“You worthless piece of shit. You hurt her. You destroyed her with your evil words. I’m going to kill you, Stewart.”
Sheila screamed and Stewart cried out.
“She has friends. Her friends from Texas. She talks to them all the time. Maybe she’s there.”
Frank stopped and stared at Stewart.
Millie used to live somewhere in Texas. Did Stacy and Anna move out there? Is that where my baby is? Stacy probably talked Millie into leaving. That bitch will die for interfering again. I should have killed Stacy then the bitch wouldn’t be such a problem right now.
“Please don’t kill me. Please,” Stewart begged, and Frank smiled as he walked away from Stewart and toward the duffle bag.
He watched Sheila, her eyes red with fear and her body shaking.
“You think you could make me forget about my woman, Sheila? You think you know me and know what it’s like to feel true pain?”
Sheila shook her head.
“Please, Frank. Don’t kill him. Let us go and get the help you need.”
Frank smiled.
“I don’t need any help. I know exactly who I am and what I want. It’s people like you and Stewart here that hide behind your money and education, thinking that you own this world and can manipulate anyone you choose to. He took my woman. He hurt her and now he’s going to die.”
“I can help you, Frank. Listen to me. You don’t want to do this. You don’t really want to take another life. Let’s talk this through. I care about you. I stood behind you when no one else believed that you were cured. Come on, Frank. Put down the knife.” Sheila spoke in that condescending, therapeutic tone that irked him.
“I think you’ve read too many text books, doc. You can’t cure men like me. I like to kill and to cause pain when I don’t get what I want and what I deserve. I deserve Millie. I want Millie. If I have to kill to get her, then so be it. Besides, it makes me feel good inside.”