Page 5 of Stormy Knight

“You’re safe now,” one officer said, their voice low and comforting as they approached her, kneeling beside the bed.

But even as she nodded, even as the rush of safety sank in, Stormy knew this was far from over. The attack had been stopped, but the aftermath, the fear, the uncertainty... that was just beginning.

Once the cops had taken Paul away, Stormy had been brought to the ER where she received stitches to close the gash along her temple area.

Touching the scar, she wondered how long could it go on? Tired, she was tired. Between the unwanted admiration, the constant phone calls that were nothing but someone breathing on the other end. And horrible dreams of her being kidnapped and tortured. She needed some sleep. She needed to be somewhere safe, with people she trusted. She knew in her gut that Paul was behind all of it. The cops told her there was no proof he’d been behind the stalking. She filed a restraining order for when he got out of jail.

The trial had been a joke. Ninety days for domestic abuse was what Paul had been sentenced. What about the attempted murder or rape? Her lawyer had been an idiot.

Letting out a deep breath, Stormy picked up her phone from the kitchen counter and waited for her best friend to answer. “Hello stranger”, came the excited voice of the one person Stormy could count on.

“Hey beautiful, how’s my goddaughter?”

“Fussy. How are you?”

“Honestly.”

“Yes.”

“Not good.”

“Come to the ranch and stay with us.”

Stormy’s resolve was now clear and she was determined. She could almost see Whiskey grinning on the other end of thephone, the ever-present optimism in her voice. Stormy had been reluctant to admit it, but going back to Texas Creek, back to Whiskey’s world felt right. There was comfort in knowing that no matter how crazy the ride got, Whiskey would always be there, ready to steer her through the chaos.

“I’m coming to Texas Creek, and I’ve decided to attend motorcycles, mobsters, and mayhem book signing.”

“Motorcycles, Mobsters and Mayhem, huh?” Whiskey’s voice was a low chuckle. That’s your excuse to come to Texas Creek? Are you sure you’re ready to do the signing again?” She knew Whiskey couldn’t help harassing her.

“If you’re ready to do it, so am I.” Stormy kept her tone even not wanting to bring up the past. Although it hung in the air like a foul odor.

“I’m excited to do the event. Maybe we could sit next to each other.”

“We could share a table.”

“We could. Okay, tell me when you’re coming so I can make sure everything’s ready for you.”

“I don’t have the dates yet. I just decided five minutes ago.” Stormy heard the baby start to fuss. “I’ll let you go take care of Effie. I’ll call later tonight with the details.”

“Sounds great,” Whiskey said over her screaming daughter. “I gotta go, babe.”

“Kiss the princess for me,” Stormy said before hanging up. Stormy sighed, staring at the phone in her hand. She called Whiskey to be honest, to reach out. But the thought of telling her everything that had been happening in her life made her feel raw in a way she wasn’t ready for.

The clock on the wall chimed, letting her know it was time to head to work. Shrugging on a jacket, Stormy realized she needed to take back her life. She just didn’t know how to stop the merry-go-round her life had become.

Giving herself a pep talk, she grabbed her purse and keys. Stepping outside the door, she kicked a package that lay there. As it went flying across the front steps, the thing unraveled as it landed on the lawn. Peering down at it, she looked in horror at a dead rabbit. The poor thing had been mutilated.

“This has got to stop.” Taking out her phone, she dialed the local police. It was time for them to take this shit serious.

Standing frozen on her doorstep, she stared at the lifeless creature sprawled in front of her. The violent sight of it made her stomach twist. Who would do something like this?

It wasn’t the first time…no, this was the third strange occurrence in the past month. The dead animals. The strange symbols scratched into the ground near her porch. The feeling of being watched when no one was around.

As the phone rang, her eyes darted around, hoping to see someone, anyone, who could explain what was happening. But as always, there was no one.

“Police, what’s your emergency?” The dispatcher’s voice broke through her thoughts.

“I…I think I’ve got a serious problem,” Stormy said, her voice shaking despite her best efforts to sound calm. She could feel the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. “There’s a dead animal on my front step. It’s been mutilated. And I’m pretty sure it’s not the first time this has happened.”

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