If you're just joining us, you can get caught up by reading Part I and Part II.
I've been stalling writing this part, so please forgive me if it's kind of choppy and vague (I'll try to write cohesive sentences). I didn't realize, until I started this series how tough it was going to be to re-visit the past.
Part of the reason that Crazy B wanted to become a certified Protection Specialist was that he'd already wrangled up a client; the wife of a prominent doctor who was being stalked. Her husband knew of Crazy B's law enforcement background and approached him about his wife's little stalker problem. Crazy B even managed to talk the client into paying for his certification.
We did the paperwork to become an S-corp and went into business.
I complete his course work, he completed his Resident Training and our price went up. The plan was for us to get the business off the ground and then I would attend ESI.
During the brief period of time we were in business, he'd purchased a little Beretta Bobcat .25 caliber for me to carry while we were working. Keep in mind that we didn't have CCWs, we didn't have a Sheriff who supported the CCW law. Crazy B managed to talk a friend of his, who happened to be Chief of Police in another city, into issuing him a CCW so that he could carry legally. I could not, which was the reasoning behind buying me the Noisy Cricket.
Very long story short: Crazy B ran up a lot of bills, slept with our client, pissed off the other protection agency in town and ended up running off to Texas, where he spent some time in jail and I got to deal with the FBI (and the very pissed off other protection agency).
When he ran off to Texas, I kept my gun. Turns out that was a very smart move.
I chalked it up to a tough lesson learned and wrote him off.
And then he returned. The man who slept with our client, destroyed our business (not to mention what little relationship we'd had), came back and had the audacity to get upset when he found out I'd moved on. Like upset enough to start threatening my new boyfriend. Like upset enough to start slashing my tires. Like upset enough to start being a royal pain in the butt and make me start carrying 24/7, CCW be damned.
I went everywhere with that Noisy Cricket, it never left my hip. I had it within arm's reach when I showered. I kept it in my CD holder above my sun visor in the car. When I was on campus, it was in a small, easily accessible compartment in my computer bag.
I. Was. Never. Unarmed. Ever.
Thank God for de Becker. I found him while I was doing Crazy B's coursework for ESI. I kept the books. They were such a great help during all of this.