Captured Again(The Let Me Go Series)

Captured Again(The Let Me Go Series) By L.L. Akers


Book 2 of the LET ME go series


DEDICATION:


To all survivors, especially those suffering from the

invisible illness, PTSD: Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

You are not alone.

And you can still have your happily ever after—it’s never too late.



“THE world breaks everyone.

It’s afterwards that some are strongest in the broken places.”

~Unknown





Chapter 1


“How much do I have to blow, officer?” she asked, flipping her long, chocolate-colored hair over her shoulder and putting her hands on her hips. She looked up at the sexy cop.

“I’d say about five grand by the time you’re through,” the tall officer mumbled under his breath as he put the equipment back in its bag.

“Excuse me? I didn’t hear you. Did I pass?” Emma stubbornly asked.

He sighed, making it obvious he didn’t want to tangle with her anymore. Emma chewed on her lower lip. She wasn’t too drunk. She could see his patience wearing thin. She had, after all, demanded a do-over on every field sobriety test, whereas he’d tolerantly told her she’d failed again and again, until she’d been stupid enough to demand the Breathalyzer.

The cop had been broody and mysterious through this whole thing, but strangely accommodating. She was still hoping she’d beaten him down enough he would just drop the whole thing with a warning, and they could both go home to bed. She really didn’t feel very drunk and he could see from checking her license she was only two miles from her apartment. It was just her luck getting pulled over on the one night a year she usually allowed herself a drink—or few.

“No, ma’am, you did not pass. You blew just over the legal limit,” he said. The officer tilted down his chin, finally meeting Emma’s eyes again, and frowned.

Emma crossed her arms, gripping her elbows as she stared up at the officer. She could feel her pulse picking up, speeding with her pounding heartbeat. Oh shit, he’s actually gonna take me in, Emma thought. This is for real. Maybe I’ll flirt. No, I am not flirting... I refuse to freakin’ flirt. Shit, shit, shit!

She felt her temper flare and her mouth run before her brain thought it through. “Dammit! Let me blow again! Or... or can’t you just let me go? Just this once! I don’t even drink—usually—I mean, I don’t anymore... It was just this one night!”

The officer pulled in a long breath, then slowly released it. “You’re also under the legal drinking age. I’m sorry,” he said while rubbing his hand through his hair.

Emma brought her arms in tighter, crossed against her chest now. She drew in a deep, calming breath and looked away from him, speaking quieter. “I promise I’ll drive straight home... You can follow me. Just give me a break this one time,” she finally begged.

The officer sighed heavily and fumbled with his equipment. He walked back to his cruiser and tossed it in and then turned to look at Emma, his jaw fixed and his hand hovering over his gun belt. She knew then he was taking her in; she just hoped he wasn’t reaching for the cuffs. This is so freakin’ humiliating.

He slowly walked back and looked down at her sternly.

“I am going to give you a break, miss. I’m going to walk over to the side of your car and hide your keys in that McDonald’s cup you see over there, in the ditch. And I’m going to give you one minute to pull out your phone to call someone to come get your car. That will save you the towing expense and a heap of trouble. When you finish the call, put your purse and any valuables in the trunk and don’t forget to hit the lock button.”

“But... wait!”

“Lock it up tight, or take your purse with you... your decision,” the officer called over his shoulder as he walked away with Emma’s keys.

Emma stomped her foot.

The officer marched toward the ditch while her brain scrambled through her options. Pulling out her phone, she chewed on her bottom lip while thinking about who would be the best person to help her out of this mess. It would have to be one of older sisters—the twins—because she didn’t have anyone else that would, or could, come get her after making such an epic, stupid mistake as this.

Gabby would normally give her the most amount of hell but could probably break through any red tape faster than anyone. At least the old Gabby would—she’d always been the fixer, trying to fix everything for everybody, and the livelier of the two. Olivia was the calm twin—she tended to be passive. She knew there was no chance of Olivia arguing any charges. If there were any possibility at all of getting the charges dropped or of keeping her out of jail tonight, she’d have to just take her tongue-lashing from Gabby and hope for the best. But she could get Olivia to pick up the car and be the one to tell Gabby... Let her poke the bear.

Emma peeked over her shoulder to see the officer now standing at the trunk of her car, arms crossed, alternating between watching her closely and looking down to kick at the loose pebbles of asphalt around his feet. She knew he was acting out of normal procedure; she could see that from his nervousness. At least she got lucky being pulled over by a young cop—not to mention a hot one—but she needed to hurry, before her luck ran out. She quickly called Olivia.

The call connected and Emma closed her eyes and took a calming breath as she listened to it ring. Oh my God, what if she doesn’t have her phone near her? What if it’s charging in another room? Emma paced in short rows, throwing quick glances over her shoulder at the cop, trying to measure how much time she had... It rang several times. Just as it seemed it was going to roll into voicemail, she picked up.

“Hello?” Olivia answered sleepily.

“Olivia, it’s me... Emma. Wake up. I need you and Gabby,” Emma blurted out.

“Emma, this better be good. I had court all day today and again tomorrow at nine a.m.... I was up late all weekend, working on the case. What do you need?”

“I’m sorry. I’m in trouble. I need you to call Gabby to pick you up and come get my car. It’s two miles south of my apartment... on the same road. The keys are in a McDonald’s cup in the ditch beside the car. Have Gabby drop you off there so you can drive my car to your house, and tell her to come straight to the police station and get me out.” Emma spit out her instructions as quickly as she could—and in one breath—before Olivia could start yelling.

“What?” Olivia shrieked, wide-awake now. “What did you do? No... wait a minute. You’ve been drinking, haven’t you? I can hear it in your voice. For God’s sake, Emma, it’s after... it’s after midnight! When did you start that back up?”

Okay... maybe not so passive... Shit! Emma looked up and locked eyes with the officer. He gave her a nod and started walking toward her. She would have to talk fast or Olivia might not come get her car—or her. Her sisters didn’t want her drinking at all, even if only once every year or so... Emma wasn’t sure what they would do. They just couldn’t understand how she sometimes gave in to the need to numb her pain. They worried too much—she wasn’t stupid enough to let it begin again... She couldn’t; she had too much to lose now.

She quickly turned her back on the officer, hoping to get an extra moment to talk before he reached her. “Please, Olivia... just listen to me. I’m not really drunk. It was just a few drinks tonight—I guess a few too many. You know I have to face it once a year or so—remind it I still have power over it. So that’s what tonight was about, I know you don’t agree with the way I handle it, but it’s my way of celebrating my freedom... any maybe a little bit of mourning our loss tonight, too. I don’t know—” Emma’s gaze flicked upward. She knew she was babbling and the cop was behind her, only a few steps away. “Anyway, I know I screwed up tonight, but I got this. I do. It’s the first time in over a year, and I’m still in control. Olivia... Please believe me,” she begged, hoping to convince her sister.


The line was silent... Emma waited another heartbeat.

“Olivia! Say something... He’s coming! I gotta go... Please call Gab—”

The officer reached over Emma’s shoulder and plucked the phone out of her hand, ended the call, and reached for her purse.

“Geesh, could’ve let me finish there,” Emma grumbled under her breath as she slowly turned around to face him.

He dropped the phone into Emma’s purse and handed it back to her.

“Put it in the back floorboard. Stick it as far under the seat as it will go. You should’ve locked it in your trunk, but we don’t have time for that now. I’ve already called this in and we’re expected at the station shortly. Lock your doors. Let’s go.”

Emma did as she was told, locking up her bag in her car, and quietly shut the door. Think, Emma... think, think, think! She slowly turned around, looking up at him with pleading eyes, knowing it was too late but still holding a little hope he might have mercy on her.

“Please don’t take me to jail,” she shamelessly begged. “I’ll walk home from here.”

“Ma’am, I’ve already been extremely lenient with you. Don’t make me cuff you and put you in the car like that. It’s mighty uncomfortable that way.”

“All right, then!” Emma snapped, completely losing her composure as she realized defeat. She swiped at the ground with an angry kick, scuffing her cowboy boots and scattering loose asphalt pebbles of her own before stomping away toward the patrol car, her long hair bouncing with each step. When she reached the back of her own car, she hesitated, then twirled around and hauled off with a good kick to the side of it. Better to vent now than after the official arrest—she didn’t need any other charges.

She definitely wasn’t feeling drunk now. If the finality of being arrested hadn’t sobered her up, her throbbing toes did. The officer gently turned her back around without a word, leading her to his car. She tried not to limp under his stare. She couldn’t believe she was actually going to be arrested, and she was seriously pissed.

At the patrol car, waiting for him to open the door, her shoulders slumped forward, and she looked down at her feet, guilt washing over her for going out tonight and for drinking, always... always a bad idea for her, but especially right now. She wished for the thousandth time she’d have just given in to Rickey when he’d asked her to hang out with him and see a movie. If only she had, she might be home right now, where she should be, curled up on her couch—safe and out of trouble.

This would be her first time going to jail. Her face felt the burn as heat followed her shame.