Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 113934 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113934 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
The door to my apartment flew open. I slowly hopped around on one foot and saw Mitch. He looked at me, down to Zeb, and then back to me.
I finally let my tears fall as I whispered my brother’s name, “Mitch.”
***
Two Days Later
“How’s she doing?” Mitch asked in a hushed voice.
Michelle replied, “She’s good. I’m honestly surprised at how well she’s doing.”
Stepping in from the balcony the best I could with my sprained ankle, I glanced between my best friend and brother. “I can hear you both talking, you know.”
Michelle jumped and turned to face me. “I thought you were sleeping in your room.”
I shook my head. “It’s two in the afternoon. Why would I be sleeping?”
With a tilt of her head, Michelle shot me a look I would have expected from my mother. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because the crazy, insane guy I was dating, who was only using me to get to you, tried to attack you two days ago.”
Limping past them, I headed into the kitchen. “I’m fine. I wish everyone would stop treating me like I was a piece of glass. I’m not going to break.”
Mitch walked up and turned me to face him. “We know you’re not going to break. You can’t blame us for loving you and wanting to protect you.”
I smiled as I looked up into his eyes. “Hey, you never did say why you were here that day.”
Mitch chuckled. “I never saw Michelle’s text saying she was staying behind since I was already driving to Waco. I’d decided to come surprise her since our football meeting was over sooner than I’d thought.”
Warmth spread through my chest. “I’m so happy the two of y’all are back together.”
“Me, too,” he said with a wink. “If we weren’t, I probably wouldn’t have been here. And I don’t even want to think about what could have happened.”
One of my neighbors had heard me yelling for help and had called the police. Mitch had arrived seconds before they did. He’d had enough time to punch Zeb, who was still stunned from me hitting him. Even if I hadn’t hit Zeb with the bronze statue, he still wouldn’t have been able to assault me, not with Mitch and the police showing up when they had. But knowing I’d hurt him enough to take him down filled me with a sense of pride.
The door to the apartment opened, and Wyatt walked in. He’d gone out for a run to blow off some steam, something he had been doing since this whole thing happened. He was still beating himself up because he’d had a feeling that something was wrong and he hadn’t insisted I wait for him to head back to Waco. Of course, he knew I would have told him he was being silly, and I’d have come back anyway.
Smiling, I asked, “How was the run?”
He walked into the kitchen and grabbed a water from the refrigerator. “I did a lot of thinking, and I’ve got an idea.”
Mitch sat on the sofa with Michelle sitting next to him. She cuddled up into his side, and I couldn’t help but get giddy at the idea of us each getting married. Thank goodness I’d brought back the dream-wedding shoebox.
“Oh, yeah? What’s your idea?” I asked as he took my hand and led me into the living room.
He motioned for me to sit. He stayed standing as he drank nearly all the water before clearing his throat and looking at us. “I’ve been thinking about all of this—what happened to you before, the bullying in school, and the lack of help from the school, plus the type of counseling you got here versus a different type of counseling that might have reached you in a different manner. As much as I disliked your therapy guy, he really did help you to move on. But what if you had had more earlier?”
I raised my brow. “More? What do you mean?”
“I mean, what if there was someplace out there for victims of abuse that offered more than just the normal office therapy? A safe place to go and figure out a way to get from the bottom back to the top. To regain their self-confidence by gaining it in other areas, not just through counseling.”
“What do you have in mind?” I asked while leaning forward, my interest clearly piqued.
“Dad mentioned something to me a few weeks back when we were talking on the phone. He said healing comes in all kinds of ways. What if we started a center for young kids and teenagers who had been abused, but it was more than just a place that offered sitting in a room and talking? They could learn how to horseback ride, cook, paint, or weld a piece of art while learning to heal. Learn how to deal with bullying alongside other kids facing the same problem, so they wouldn’t feel like they were alone. We wouldn’t only be building their confidence and trust back up, but we’d also be teaching them how to do it in an abundance of ways. Teach these kids that they weren’t alone and do it in a nurturing atmosphere. Where victims of abuse not only got help, but also gave help. Kids who had been through a program could have the option of coming back and helping at the center.”