Captured Again(The Let Me Go Series)

Chapter 31


JUMP turned into the driveway and slowly rolled down the hill. His headlights revealed a car parked at the bottom of the driveway, near the garage. He slowed to a stop midway.

“That's her car,” Dusty whispered.

“The light’s on in the house, dude. She's in there.”

Dusty pursed his lips together, blowing out a long breath. Relieved but still tense. She may not be alone. He rubbed the back of his neck, digging his fingers into the knots that had built up since his drive to Emma's earlier. What am I supposed to say if she’s got Rick in there? He stopped rubbing his neck but rubbed his chin as he grew very still, staring straight ahead at Emma’s car.

Dusty felt Jump's eyes on him. “Relax, man. What's up with you?” Jump asked.

“Nothing!” Dusty snapped back, pulling his hand down quick. “Keep driving. Take me all the way down there.”

Jump snickered. “Dude... you're like all twitterpated with this chick!” Jump said, leaning over to flutter his eyelashes in an exaggerated fashion at Dusty.

“Twitterpated? What the hell is that?”

“You know, man... Like on Bambi?”

Dusty shrugged and shook his head. “What the hell are you talking about, Jump?”

“Bambi, man... It's a cartoon movie,” Jump answered excitedly. “In the forest, mating season causes all the animals to fall in love and act all goofy. Then they mate,” Jump said, leaning close to Dusty and lifting his eyebrows up and down. “They called it twitterpated.”

I've seen that movie—by accident and only parts of it. How did I miss animals mating on a kid's movie? Dusty wondered. Definitely gonna turn on the Netflix and check that out. Probably Jump was jacked when he watched it. They say you see all kinds of crazy shit when you watch a cartoon while high.

“Yeah, well... You ever seen Mickey Mouse? This chick might be with Goofy,” Dusty answered, doing his part to try to break the tension. Jump laughed. Dusty cringed at the loudness of it. “At least she was earlier.”

“So why they need you, then?”

“Like I said, he's Goofy, not Brutus. I guess her sister wanted to bring in the big guns.”

Jump slowed to a stop and turned off the car. He killed the lights. Dusty chuckled as he watched Jump’s head dart side to side in paranoia. He looked like a chicken in a ditch, looking all around. Scared of the dark much? he thought but didn’t say it aloud. Jump was a friend—although a twitchy one—always watching shadows.

“Yeah, man, about that. Don't leave me sitting here with no protection, dude.” Jump’s eyes darted to Dusty, pleading. “This shit goes sideways or something, I might need a piece.”

“A piece of what?”

“You know, man... a gun!” Jump made the universal hand sign for a gun. “Pow, pow!”

Dusty rolled his eyes, although Jump couldn't see him. “Damn, Jump. This ain't the movies. We don't call it a piece, and I sure as hell don't carry more than one, especially since I'm off duty.”

“No shit?”

Dusty shook his head slowly. “Yeah. Seriously, dude. I got this. I'm going to go and check the house. You just sit tight.”

Dusty reached up to turn off the dome light and then quietly opened the door. Before closing the door, he leaned back in and said, “Just watch the house, man, okay? If there's any trouble at all, call 9-1-1.”

“Don't worry. I got yo back, Dust.”

Dusty stood up before rolling his eyes once again. Not my best plan, bringing Jump into this. What if shit does go sideways? My ass will probably be in a sling, but at least I’m not driving. Drinking's not illegal... Neither is checking on a friend, he reminded himself.

He slapped the heavy flashlight against his palm and turned it on. The moonlight here in the clearing around the house was bright, but you never know when you might need a good heavy flashlight—like a billy club—much safer than spitting bullets at people. But if all else failed, he’d do what he had to do. He reached behind him and patted his concealed carry gun, stuck down into the back of his pants under his shirt. Never hurts to be too prepared.

Hopefully Emma was just asleep—alone—on her sister's couch. Gabby was probably overreacting because of all the stress she'd been under, not to mention losing their mama less than two months ago. She'd called him again just as after he'd left—on his way to drive by Emma's—to tell him not to waste time going there. Her other sister, Olivia, was already there and both Emma and her car were gone. Gabby was slightly hysterical by then and had handed the phone off to Jake, who was much calmer but still just as concerned as Gabby. He'd promised to come straight here and call them as soon as he'd found Emma.

He quietly stepped alongside the house on his way to the front porch.

Seemed like a lot of worry over Emma not answering her phone for just a few hours. Especially since they seemed aware she'd been with Rick earlier. Maybe she and Goofy—err, Rick—were just taking advantage of the house while Gabby was away. Maybe they were both in there right now, together, and more than fine. Dusty hoped it wasn't so but prepared himself for it.


He hesitated at the bottom of the steps, looking up at the door, hoping Emma had heard or seen them pull in and would save him from having to ring the bell and possibly come face to face with Rick. She’s not coming, dude. Move it, Dusty’s conscience prompted him.

When his foot hit the first step, he nearly fumbled, his shoe coming down on the edge of something. He shined the flashlight down and found Emma's phone. He picked it up. The colorful case had a crowd of cartoon figures on it; he'd never seen another like it. He turned around, shining his light across the yard. Is she out here? The swing broke his beam. It looked different than the only other time he'd been here. He quietly stepped over to it and grabbed the ribbons with his free hand, alarmed to see what looked like a few drops of blood splatter. He took a closer look at the swing seat and saw what looked like a blood smear there, too.

He swung his flashlight over the entire yard and then focused on the edge of the woods closest to the swing. There. He saw the weeds and brush pushed down as if someone—or something—had recently run through there.

He looked back over his shoulder to Jump's car first. Jump was still sitting tight, with his head poked out the window, probably trying to figure out what Dusty was doing. He still looked spooked. Dusty held his hand up and gestured that he was going up to the house; he made sure his light was aimed on his hand so Jump would clearly see his intentions.

Jump waved back. The moonlight caught his arm, but Dusty had no idea what his signal was... probably something he'd seen on TV.

He was halfway up the steps when he heard a scream coming from the woods. Dusty froze mid-step. That was Emma! His heart skipped a beat—or two—and then start thumping double-time. The stillness of the night had carried the sound, but Dusty felt like it had come from the woods, behind the house somewhere.

Dusty looked toward Jump. He had heard it too and was already out of the car.

“Get back in the car, Jump!” he roared. “And call 9-1-1!”

Before he could see if Jump followed his instructions, he was off the porch and had dove into the woods.



Emma's legs were jittery, but she couldn't stop. If she did, he'd find her. She'd run straight onto a deer trail that threaded through the woods. She'd thought to herself then she was glad she wasn't just a rock in the latest show; her workouts in front of the microphone had given her an advantage. She'd run on the trail as far as it took her—always making sure she could hear him somewhere far behind her—until it had ended with an army of tall trees, each looking dark and sinister, their trunks blocking out the moonlight.

Then she'd had to fight her way with every step, caught in briars and brambles—cut and bleeding—walking through nearly pitch dark in the dense woods with her hands in front of her. She’d known she was still somewhere in the back of Gabby's property, although not exactly sure where, but she had purposely tried to keep circling the back tract, trying to get close enough to the house that she could make a run for it with enough time to snatch up her phone and get inside to lock the door behind her and call the cops. But this had turned into a very long game of hide-and-seek, and she was tired of playing.

Who is this guy? And how does he know Gabby? That question had been flipping and flopping around in her mind, along with false starts to a different plan, different than what she was doing. Her original plan didn't seem to be working. Every time she'd come near the tree line to Gabby's yard, she'd frozen, her heart pumping wildly while she second-guessed whether or not she was far enough ahead to beat him in a foot race across the yard to the house. What if he's not as tired as I am? Maybe this guy runs in the woods every freakin' day. Forcing her to turn away and lead him back away from the house again to try to get a bigger lead.

Now her legs were nearly given out, twitchy and tired.

She slowed to a fast walk and continued to plod along, her feet feeling heavier and heavier. Come on, feet, keep my ass from falling in the grass, she thought. This uneven terrain and long, steady pace was different than flittering around on carpet in the studio. Her ankles, feet, and hips ached. Her lungs felt abused and even her skin hurt; it stung where she'd stumbled several times, falling and catching herself on her hands in the dark. She'd been out here over an hour, walking, then stopping... listening to be sure he was still chasing her. When she heard his footsteps get faster, she'd run again until he slowed down. It was an on again, off again chase.

Emma was panting. I'd kill for a cold bottle of water, she thought and then shivered, realizing that wasn’t even funny in these circumstances, even if she hadn’t said it out loud.

She stopped to lean against a tree to rest and get an idea how far he was behind her. She breathed in silence, although it was an effort and her lungs were seriously getting pissed from the abuse. The sweat dripped off her nose and she could hear it hit the dry leaves with an exaggerated plop... No other sound other than the distant tree frogs and cicadas. She listened harder. A breeze rustled up some leaves, but when it quieted, she heard nothing. She couldn't hear him moving anymore. The silence was deafening. She started to panic. Maybe she hadn't stopped soon enough? Maybe he'd given up and was already on the way back to the house?

All other notions flew from her mind as the belief planted itself firmly that he was on his way to the house. It paralyzed her with fear and turned the sweat that soaked her clothes into a prickly bath of ice water.

Emma shrieked, loud and long, and began to race toward the direction she thought the house was. “No! No! No!” she screamed even louder as she blindly raced through the trees with her arms out in front of her, slapping away the branches and brush. Here, the trees were spread apart more. Moonlight peeped in, letting the bigger trees mimic the shadow of a man, frightening her over and over again, but she wouldn’t stop. I’ve got to get to the house! She kept running, branches slapped her without mercy, and she could feel the water stream out of her eyes, flying backwards to wet her face. She sprinted, adrenaline feeding energy to her tired limbs. She darted faster and faster through the trees, barely feeling her feet on the ground. There! She could see a break in the tree line and caught a glimpse of the backyard as she dashed closer and closer, finally seeing the outline of the house—dark and squatting—the back windows dark except for the moonlight reflecting off them, giving the house a threatening, sinister appearance, as if it lay in wait for Emma to reach it. But she had no choice now. Panting with effort, she pushed on, almost to the edge where the woods would finally release her into Gabby’s backyard.

The woods exploded all around her with noise, startling Emma and causing her to stumble in the dark. Her feet tangled beneath her and she crashed down toward the forest floor. She squeezed her eyes tight as she fell, realizing he'd won the game. He tricked me. He was still out here in the woods. Now the son of a bitch has me. She twisted her body as she was falling, trying to land on her back. She'd still fight. Just before her head hit the ground, she opened her eyes and saw him, a dark blur barreling toward her, and then she lost herself in the spreading darkness.



“Emma,” Dusty whispered.

He held her hand gently in the crowded ambulance, trying not to jostle the IV drip. Between the paramedic and Emma’s gurney, there wasn’t much room for him in here, but he'd fiercely insisted and no one had dared deny him after he flashed his badge.


Her eyes were still closed. They hadn't so much as flickered as he’d carried her out of the woods and onto the waiting gurney in Gabby’s backyard. She'd been checked by the EMTs and found to be dehydrated, bruised up, and scratched all over. She had a nasty knot and gash on the back of her head that had knocked her out cold.

The EMT signaled for Dusty to move away for a moment while he waved something under Emma’s nose to wake her.

Her eyelashes began to flutter. Dusty gave her hand a little squeeze. She was coming around very slowly. She opened her eyes and stared at the top of the ambulance.

“Emma?” Dusty said again, his eyebrows up, forehead squeezed into ripples of concern.

She rolled her head to look his way, squinting now to focus. “Dust?” she whispered. “Where... am... I?”

Dusty’s shoulders relaxed, dropping several inches. She called me Dust, he thought. I like the sound of Dust on her lips.

“We're still at Gabby's. You're okay, but we're going to transport you to the hospital, just to be sure,” he answered.

Emma scrunched her own eyebrows together and looked around her.

She gasped. “Dust...” she said, her words still coming to her very slowly. “There was... a... man.” She paused and took a breath. “He... chased me... in... the woods?" It sounded like a question, not a statement.

She’s still confused, Dusty thought.

“I got him, Emma. I'm just sorry you got hurt. I had to tackle him. He was almost on top of you.”

Dusty didn't want to mention the knife that Emma had escaped by mere inches. He had been stalking this freak through the woods without his flashlight, trying to sneak up on him before he got to Emma, but the freak had gone from tiptoeing to rushing her in a matter of seconds. Dusty hadn’t seen the glint of the knife until the nutcase was already crashing through the brush, headed straight for her. He’d gotten there just in time; a few seconds later and the story could have ended badly.

“But you're gonna be all right. And he’s taking a ride with my friends from the county.” Dusty continued. He smiled at Emma. “He won't be getting out any time soon.”

He leaned down and kissed her hand. She may not be fully awake and coherent, but he couldn't wait to tell her. He'd say it again later, however many times she needed to hear it.

“Emma, I think I'm in love with you. If something had happened to you, I don't know what I woulda done.” His eyes filled with tears as he looked into hers, still slightly dazed but strikingly blue.

“I know you said before that you have baggage, but I don't care about that. Everybody's got some baggage. You just have to love someone enough to want to help them unpack it. And I do. I love you like that, Emma.”

She smiled up at him and squeezed his hand back. “You barely know me,” she whispered.

“I know enough about you to know I love you, Emma. Everything else is just a bonus.”

No response. Awkward.

Her smile slowly slid away and her face transformed to panic. Um, not what I was hoping for, he thought.

The ambulance jerked as it began to pull away, taking it very slow through Gabby's backyard. Everything jostled to the left and the right as the driver eased up onto the gravel driveway. Dusty spread his big feet to balance himself on the tiny stool he was sitting on.

“Baggage!” she blurted out, as if she'd just remembered something, her eyes darting all around her. “Dusty, where's—”

“Wait!” Someone screamed from outside the vehicle, followed by a loud knock, cutting Emma off. The driver stopped the ambulance’s slow roll.

Dusty jerked his head up to see Jump's face in the tiny window, darting side to side and bobbing up and down. Jump could never stand still. As usual, he was bouncing on the toes of his feet, making him taller, shorter, then taller again.

Shit, I forgot all about Jump! Has he been sitting in the car all this time, waiting for me? Dusty cracked a smile.

The EMT looked at Dusty, skepticism all over his face. “You know this guy?”

“Yeah, open the door a second,” Dusty answered.

The EMT cracked the door, just far enough to speak to Jump. “What do you need, sir?”

Jump shifted from foot to foot. “I don't need anything, but I got someone here who wants to ride with Emma.”

“Who is it?” Dusty barked out.

“Says his name's Rick,” Jump yelled back through the crack. “I found him hiding in the house. When you yelled at me before you took off through the woods, you scared him—scared me too. I swear your scream would wake the dead, dude!”

Dusty felt his heart drop. He'd assumed Emma wasn't with Rick when he'd only found her and the guy whose face he busted up in the woods. Are you freakin' kidding me? He hid in the house and left Emma alone to deal with that nut? I was right about him. He is a wuss. No wonder her sister had no faith in him. He clenched his teeth, his anger at the coward drowning out his jealousy. When this is over, Emma will have to see what an a*shole he is now.

“Tell him hell no. Go get his own damn ride!” Dusty yelled, hoping it was loud enough for Rick to hear him.

Emma struggled to sit up, but she was strapped in. “No! Let him in!” she yelled.

Dusty slowly shook his head, his lips squeezed tightly together. He felt the blood rush to his face. She made her choice, and he wouldn't stand in the way, even if it was killing him. He put Emma's hand gently on her chest and let go.

“Officer Rowan, we’ve got to pull out. What do you want me to do?” The EMT asked, still waiting with the door cracked open.

He stood up, crouched over in the small space. “Do as the lady says. Let him in. I'll get out,” he said sadly, feeling the sting of rejection dripping with embarrassment. God, I wish I could backspace and delete that little speech, he thought. Maybe she won't remember it...

Emma grabbed for his hand before he could step away. “No! Stay with me.”

What the hell? Does she seriously expect me to sit by and watch that pansy ass get close to her? Didn't she hear what I just told her? I love her, dammit. His emotions shifted to anger. To hell with this.

“Emma, I’ll meet you at the hospital and check on you. I’m sorry, but you can't expect me to ride with that sorry piece of—”



“Mommy?”

Dusty's head whipped around in surprise. Jump smiled ear to ear as he lifted in a little boy—maybe four years old—wearing a too-big South Carolina Gamecocks ball cap. The little boy pushed it up out of his face to reveal tear-stained cheeks below a set of wide-open, big blue eyes—eyes that were identical to the blue Emma and her sisters all shared, along with their same dark brown hair.

Jump patted him on the head, the same gesture he'd seen Emma's shadow give hours ago. “There ya go, little man!”

Emma let go of Dusty's hand and held her arms out.

“Rickey! Come here!”

The little boy looked at Dusty, having to tilt his face almost straight up. Dusty’s lips bent into a self-conscious smile of encouragement, and the kid threw himself into Emma’s arms.

“I saw you peeping out the window, baby. I’m so sorry I ran from you. But Mommy had to keep a bad man away,” she said through fresh tears. “He’s gone now. Dusty captured him for us. The bad man is gone.”