Captured Again(The Let Me Go Series)

Chapter 3


Gabby startled awake in the dark. She sat up quietly, listening, trying to find what had awoken her. She looked at the window, surprised to see it was dark outside. She must have slept the entire day through. Guilt pinched her conscience. She knew her boss was getting close to the end of his patience. Dammit, I hope I don’t lose my freakin’ job, she thought.

That morning she’d gotten up with all intention of going to work. But she’d made the mistake of glancing out the window and seeing her swing dangling in the early morning mist. She’d walked out to sit for just a minute—she had told herself—but minutes had turned into an hour as her mind convinced her she should just call out of work one more day. She was late anyway, and she could just go back to bed and sleep... and dream of Jake.

A breeze had tickled her toes. She had still been in her pajamas. She hadn’t found the energy to dress for work yet. So she had sat and swayed, not swinging... feeling bared—stripped of all the goodness in her life. She’d shivered uncomfortably. But this was the place she felt closest to Jake. He’d hung the swing the same day they’d moved into their new house, seven years before. It was his special gift to her.

As she’d sat on her swing that morning, she’d gotten lost in remembering the day Jake hung it, her giggling as he grew tired and sweaty trying to throw the bundle of rope over the lowest limb of their oak tree—which was quite high—and missing over and over again as she’d yelled out, “I’ve seen better throwing in T-ball! You got about as much control as two rabbits on their first date! You couldn’t throw a party! Come on!”

She’d cracked Jake up with her pitcher repartee, and he’d stopped throwing the rope and started chasing her with it instead. They’d wrestled and he’d tickled her relentlessly until she had finally promised no more heckling. He looped it over on the next throw. When the rope finally made it over the branch and fell back to the ground, she had run to him, thrown her arms around his neck, and kissed his sweaty, grinning face. She’d been so happy she’d have her swing.

That was a fun and special day. One of many she’d had with Jake.

Gone now.

He’d been gone six weeks. She couldn’t remember the first two weeks at all. It was a blur, a dark spot in her memory. She couldn’t... or wouldn’t go there. All she could say for sure was during that two weeks, she scarcely remembered crawling out of the unquestioning sanctuary of her bed. She didn’t leave the house. She’d watched the empty swing from their bedroom window and thought how lucky she had been; her time with Jake had been a gift. He’d saved her—twice—the first time when she’d had nowhere to go after giving up her baby at age seventeen, an event that had left her alone and homeless. But he’d scooped her up, married her, and helped her build a life, a good life, together.

Jake saved her again when the family cycle of abuse finally caught up to her and shattered her life—cracking it into fragments. She had tried to hold the pieces together alone, not wanting to hurt Jake, but she wasn’t strong enough. She was the victim of a sociopath, forced to endure sexual abuse in fear of her marriage and her freedom. It was a puzzle she couldn’t put back together again, so she tried to escape it. Escape life. He’d saved her, not just by rushing her to the hospital, where she’d nearly died, but by standing beside her after finding out why she had wanted to die.

He had stayed with her for five years after that nearly fatal night.

Gabby had thought once Jake knew she’d been with another man—repeatedly—he wouldn’t want her, regardless of the circumstance. But he had. He had believed the truth and not only stayed in the marriage, but helped her recover.

She’d wake up nearly every night, for years. Screaming from nightmares of being held captive in a wooden box. She’d awoken countless times swatting and swearing there were spiders in the bed, and too many times to count she’d been so adamant that René was in the room—yelling that she wasn’t asleep; he was there—that she’d convinced Jake, too. He’d jump up and grab his ball bat, searching under the bed, in the closet, the bathroom, before he finally realized Gabby was having a night terror again—eyes wide open but asleep.

He’d held her. Rocked her back to a peaceful sleep. Never losing his temper, even after so many sleepless nights. And he’d given her space to heal, mentally and physically, supporting her through it all. So patient, never letting her go.

How could she let him go?

Gabby hadn’t been able to go to work. She’d dropped down from the swing and slowly walked up the steps leading into the house. She’d made her call to her disappointed boss and crawled back into bed, covering her head to block out the sun shining through her window, and slept through yet another day.


She shook off her replay of yet another wasted day and looked at the clock. Damn, chick. You did sleep through another day, she thought. It was the middle of the night. I’m definitely dragging your lazy ass to work tomorrow, so get some more shuteye. She dropped her head onto her pillow, forgetting about the noise that had woken her up, and fell instantly back to sleep.