Captured Again(The Let Me Go Series)

Chapter 7


“Hey, you... new kid. Where you get those kicks?”

Emma startled, as if she’d just woken, and her eyes shot up to the woman slumped in the corner of the bunk. It was Scary Woman who’d spoken to her. She quickly shuttered her eyes back down to the floor, but not before seeing Hooker and Follower also warily watching her.

Emma struggled to make sense of it. Had she really managed to fall asleep on this cold floor? She must have. Everything felt surreal, as it usually did when Emma awoke normally. She was sure the women had fallen asleep after she’d first come in, and she’d glanced up several times to see them still sleeping at first, but she must have eventually dozed off too. They were all definitely awake now.

Emma could feel the heat from Scary Woman’s aggressive stare burning into her but didn’t want to risk looking directly back at her, even if she had been spoken to.

She took a moment to consider her choices and then looked up, meeting her stare, studying Scary Woman the same way she was being studied.

The woman wasn’t that big, really not any bigger than Emma, which wasn’t saying much at her meager five-foot-one-inch stature, but the woman looked mean—and dangerous. Her sunken eyes were rimmed with black circles and her closed mouth looked caved in upon itself, as if the bones and teeth were withered away underneath, not doing the job nature intended them. With her tattoo-sleeved arms crossed over her chest and her pierced nose wrinkled, looking down with a frown at Emma, she looked street-tough.

“Girl, you deaf? I said... where’d you get those kicks?”

Emma continued to stare back at her, wondering how this scary woman knew of her kicks. Did that cop talk to them before I was brought back? What an unprofessional a*shole, telling them about my arrest... Isn’t that illegal or something? she thought.

“Well... I don’t know. I didn’t learn from anywhere or anyone. I was just pissed off,” Emma finally answered hesitantly, hoping not to sound as if she were bragging.

“What? Are you stupid or something, kid? I’m talking about your boots. I like ‘em.”

“Oh! I thought you were talking about... never mind. I got them on sale at Nordstrom’s... the one at Southpark Mall in Charlotte. Have you been there?” Emma answered cheerily, as if this were just another girl at school, asking about her boots. Maybe these types of people did have some civility, she thought.

The cell erupted in obnoxious laughter. Scary Woman and her follower slapped hands in the air, as if they’d just scored in a game Emma hadn’t realized she’d been a player in. Hooker just held her hand over her mouth, laughing. Emma could feel the heat rising in her face; she wasn’t sure what was so funny, but it was obvious she was the butt of the joke.


Scary woman abruptly stopped laughing. And when she stopped, the other two immediately mirrored her silence.

“No, love. I haven’t been able to stop by Nordstrom’s in the longest time. I must make a point to do exactly that, darlin’. I’ll pencil it in with this week’s shopping tour,” the scary woman said in a fake falsetto. “In the meantime, what size they be?” She continued, switching back to her regular voice—rough and gravelly, a heavy smoker’s voice.

Emma cringed and again wished for Gabby to show up.

“I think they’re a six,” she reluctantly answered.

“That’s my size. Let me try ‘em on, little bit,” Scary Voice demanded.

Emma sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly, realizing she was being challenged. This was no different than grade school. See how far you can push the little kid before she pushed back. This was territory Emma had travelled many times with different bullies. She’d been small all her life, much smaller than all her classmates. Slender, like her sisters, but without their height—even her own sisters had called her munchkin most of her childhood and, unfortunately, still sometimes did, but at least from them it was said with love.

Emma stretched out her legs and crossed her feet, smoothing the hem of her dress across her thighs and slowly placing one boot delicately over the other, not rushing anything.

She then erased all emotion off her face, not letting them see her anxiety ratcheting upward, and nonchalantly rolled her eyes up above their heads to stare at a spot of nothingness on the dirty wall above them. She leaned her head back against the wall, inwardly cringing at what she imagined her hair was coming in contact with but willing her body to maintain a relaxed pose before she answered.

“Not gonna happen. It’s cold in here. I’m not taking off my boots.”

The cell went silent for a moment while the three looked at each other.

Scary Woman jumped off the bunk and was over Emma in two steps.

“Is you telling me no, little bit? I don’t think you understood. I wasn’t axing you... I’s telling you,” she threatened, standing over Emma. “Now, give me ‘dem boots!” she roared.

Emma held her pose, not moving a muscle. She was uneasy, but not afraid. They wouldn’t have let Scary Woman in the cell before searching her, so she probably didn’t have a weapon, and Emma felt sure she could take her in a fight. She’d been in plenty of those in her wilder days. But what she didn’t want was more trouble from the cops. She just wanted out so she could go home and sleep. But she would do what she had to; she sure as hell wasn’t giving up her brand-new boots. She’d worked long, hard hours and scrimped and saved for them... It wasn’t often she bought something for herself, and she’d be damned if she was going to lose them the first night she wore them.

Emma didn’t answer. She’d put Scary Woman on ignore and would wait for her next move and take it from there.

The tension in the cell heightened with each passing second that Scary Woman waited for Emma to answer or give up her boots. Emma could feel the tautness in the air, as if Scary Woman were about to snap. Something had to give or it was going to get ugly. Emma slowly rolled her head toward her, looking her in the eyes, and gave a slow shake of her head side-to-side while maintaining eye contact, hoping the subject would just drop.

Scary Woman snapped. “You little bitch, you don’t come up in here with yo fancy shit and think you gonna tell me no!” she screamed as she reached down to grab one of Emma’s boots, the air moving to fill Emma’s nose with a rotten smell. Something awful she’d never encountered before was coming off the woman in waves with her every movement.

Emma quickly pulled her foot out of her hand, kicking but trying not to hit her, intent on not giving up her boot, but not wanting to fight either. She broke her silence, trying to sound tough and street-smart. “No! You ain’t getting my boots, you skank... Back off!”

Scary Woman’s fingers kept slipping as she tried to get a firm grasp on one or the other of Emma’s boots, while Emma tried to get to her feet, but not able to while fighting off the woman’s hands. She had to use her own hands to hold her in place on the cement floor while kicking as fast as she could to try to keep Scary Woman from gaining any traction.

“I’m telling you, keep messing with me and you’re gonna make an epic mistake!” Emma screamed while trying to keep her boots. The scuffle continued for what seemed like eternity to Emma but was probably only a moment, when a loud voice called out, freezing them both in place.

“Hey! Break it up! You ladies want to spend another night here?”

Emma looked up to see the jerk that had put her here standing at the door to the cell. Although she was mad as hell at him, she was glad to see his face.

“You... come on. Your bail’s been posted,” Officer Rowan brusquely said as he pointed at Emma.

Emma felt relief wash over her. She wasn’t sure if it came from seeing him again, even though her misplaced anger was directed toward him, or if it was just the relief of getting out of this hellhole.

She got off the floor and pushed past Scary Woman, roughly bumping her shoulder on her way toward the door, daring her to say something or try to get her boots with him standing there. Scary Woman stood still. She wasn’t taking the bait.

Officer Rowan pointed in the direction for Emma to go and followed closely behind.

“You okay?” he whispered just loud enough for Emma to hear as they moved away from the cell and down the hall.

“I’m fine, thanks,” Emma snapped back at him. “Took you guys long enough to notice what the hell was going on in there. I nearly had to fight to keep my damn boots.”

Emma couldn’t see the officer grinning behind her back.

What she also didn’t know was he had spent the night, well beyond his shift change, watching her cell through their observation camera mounted from the ceiling. There was nothing he could do about her being put in the cell with the repeat offenders, but he had kept his tired eyes on her all night, on red alert, ready to come through and break it up just as he received notice she was out anyway. It was just coincidental timing.

Emma was glad he was behind her and couldn’t see her eyes shining. Now that she was away from the situation, it caught up with her. She held her head up high and took in a deep breath, then swallowed hard past the knot in her throat, trying to hold back her tears. She could admit to herself now that she had been a little scared, but she didn’t want to give anyone else the satisfaction of seeing her weak, especially him. She could cry later—when she was alone.