Page 60 of Best Laid Plans

"Right before you got in your car?"

"I had dinner at the steakhouse."

He nodded. "How much did you drink?"

"I don't drink and drive, Sheriff. I had iced tea."

"Likely story, but from what I hear, there was a bottle of wine ordered for your table, and you partook."

"I'm afraid you're mistaken. I did—"

"Step out of the car. Pete's voice was as cold and commanding as I remembered.

I wanted to protest, but I knew that would only make things worse.

With shaking hands, I unbuckled my seatbelt and got out, my legs feeling like jelly. Pete's imposing figure loomed in front of me, his eyes glinting with a malicious satisfaction.

"I'm going to need you to take a sobriety test," he said, his voice dripping with malice.

"I haven't been drinking," I repeated tightly. "I'm not intoxicated."

"Then let's do a breathalyzer, shall we?"

No fucking way. I knew all about how those could be manipulated. I knew my rights. I had made sure I did. "I don't trust those, Sheriff. But I'm willing to take a blood test."

Pete's eyes narrowed, and he took a step closer, invading my space. "Are you refusing a breathalyzer test?"

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice steady. "Yes, I insist on a blood test."

Pete's smirk sent a chill down my spine. "Well then, Miss King, since I believe you're driving under the influence and refusing to take a sobriety test, I got no choice but to arrest you. Turn around and put your hands behind your back."

Terror seized me as I complied, the cold metal of the handcuffs biting into my wrists. The memories of that horrible night years ago flooded my mind, and I could feel panic rising. This was happening again. I was being arrested for no reason, and the man who had hurt me was once again in control.

"My car," I said, barely able to get the words out, and opened my palm. My keys were in it.

He took the keys, locked my car, and pocketed them. "I can't let you drive. We'll get it towed, at your expense obviously."

Pete shoved me toward the back of his car, and I stumbled, barely catching myself. Tears blurred my vision as fear and helplessness overwhelmed me. I was pushed into the backseat, the door slamming shut with a finality that echoed through the car.

As Pete drove toward the sheriff's office, I struggled to breathe, the confined space triggering my claustrophobia. I couldn't believe this was happening again. The trauma of that night was something I carried with me every day, and now it was being dragged to the surface.

I closed my eyes, trying to block out the present, and escape into the recesses of my mind, where I could find some semblance of safety. But the reality of the situation was inescapable. I was being taken back to the place where my nightmares began, and the terror of what lay ahead threatened to consume me whole.

Chapter 23

Anson

Iwas in my home office when I got a call from Deputy Sheriff Jim Purnell.

"Jim, is everything okay?"

There was a long pause. "Anson…I shouldn't call, and if Pete found out, he'll have me fired."

A chill ran through me. "He'll never find out," I assured him.

"He arrested Nova King for drunk driving. Ah…he was waitin' on her, and I told him not to but—"

"Fuckin' hell," I muttered.

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