She shook from head to toe, her hands rattling against the steering wheel. Tears streamed from her eyes until she could barely make out the road in front of her.
Had her life come to this? Had she finally come home—a place she’d convinced herself didn’t really exist in those long, harrowing days in captivity—only to piss away any chance she had of a normal life?
What was it about her that she was trying to destroy her life? She was doing her best to think the worst of her marriage, of a man who’d risked everything for her. She had a family who loved her and supported her unconditionally, and she was prepared to ruin not only her life, but the life of some kid she didn’t even know, and to destroy the people who loved her.
Maybe she was as crazy as she secretly feared. Maybe the bastards who’d held her had destroyed her after all.
She felt completely and utterly broken.
She had no idea of the miles she’d traveled, only that she was driving too fast and too recklessly. Something deep within crumbled and she felt precariously light. The sound of a horn blaring wrenched her from her desolation long enough for her to swerve back into her lane.
She pulled to the shoulder and cut the engine, knowing she couldn’t drive another mile. She gripped the steering wheel at the top and buried her face against the backs of her wrists and wept.
SEAN Cameron topped the hill and automatically slowed when he saw the SUV pulled to the shoulder. No flashers were on even though he could see someone in the driver’s seat. He frowned. It looked a lot like Ethan’s vehicle. But the driver was too small to be Ethan. It looked more like a woman. Or a really short man.
As he neared, he radioed plates and pulled behind the vehicle. He didn’t have to wait for the dispatcher to come back. It was definitely Ethan’s truck.
Checking back for oncoming traffic, he got out and cautiously approached. In the sideview mirror he caught the image of a woman bent over the steering wheel. Rachel.
He dropped his hand from his holster and hurried forward. He could see her shoulders shaking through the window, but she never even registered his presence.
Not wanting to frighten her, he carefully tapped on the glass. She reacted violently, yanking herself up, her ravaged, tearstained face staring back at him. Her pupils dilated—in fear? His chest tightened at the idea that he’d inadvertently scared her.
“Open the door, Rachel,” he said, loud enough so she could hear through the glass.
For a moment he thought she’d refuse, and then her eyes dulled in resignation, and she hesitantly opened the door a crack.
He pried the door from her fingers and then went down on one knee. “What’s wrong, Rachel? Are you okay? Did you have an accident?”
He couldn’t see any damage to the vehicle, but he hadn’t been around it for a full inspection.
A low sob welled from her throat and more tears trickled down her cheeks.
“You should arrest me, Sean.”
Of all the things he’d thought she might say, that wasn’t one of them. He rocked back, completely poleaxed by her statement.
He eyed passing traffic with concern. This wasn’t the best place to hash out whatever Rachel thought he should arrest her for, and it was obvious this wasn’t something that would be solved in one or two minutes.
He rose and reached gently for her elbow. “Come sit in my car with me. I’d feel better if we were farther out of the line of traffic. Then you can tell me what’s bothering you.”
She looked so damn forlorn that it discomfited him. Hell, he dealt with women in various forms of distress all the time through his job. He arrested them, gave them bad news, took reports from the abused, but he didn’t know any of them.
She stared ahead, biting her lower lip as if she couldn’t decide what she should do.
“Come on, honey,” he said a little more forcefully. “Let’s go talk about it and then I’ll get you home.”
She turned her gaze to him and her eyes filled with tears again. “I can’t go home, Sean.”
Hell. What was he supposed to say to that? And where the hell was Ethan?
He lifted her arm, hoping she wouldn’t fight him. He reached down to unclasp her seat belt and urged her from her seat. She stumbled as she got out, and he wrapped an arm around her waist to support her as they walked toward his squad car.
“No, not in the back,” he said when she went in that direction.
He walked around to the front passenger seat and ushered her inside. Then he hurried around to the driver’s side and slid in next to her.
He tapped his thumbs on the steering wheel for a moment and then broached the subject head-on.
“Why on earth do you think I should take you to jail?”
She raised a trembling hand to her forehead and closed her eyes. He could see the deep pain grooved on her forehead.
“God, Sean. Do you know what I almost did? I came out of the therapist’s office.” She broke off and laughed, a harsh, brittle sound. “I ran out of the office more like. All I could think was what a mess my life is and how I wanted the needle more than I wanted to live. I looked over and saw this kid riding his skateboard in the parking lot of the grocery store. A kid, Sean. And I wondered if he’d know how to score a hit. I got out of the truck before I even realized what I was doing.”
She wilted in the seat, all the fight completely gone. There was such despair in her eyes that it made him want to cry like a damn baby.
“Ah shit, Rachel. You should have called me. Or Ethan. Or anyone else.”