Chapter 2: Handcuffs and White Chocolate

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Chapter 2: Handcuffs and White Chocolate

Red and blue sirens caused Jamie to pull over to the side of the road. As long as she had been driving, she never got pulled over by a police officer. To say she was nervous was an understatement. She just put her car in park when she looked out her left side-view mirror to see a tall Caucasian man stepping out of his police car.

Great.

Just her luck to get a white male officer. Growing up her father told her all there was to know about white officers. Growing up in the sixties and seventies, a former Black Panther and a father who was a civil rights activist, Carl Adams told his daughter the hardships that their race had to go through at the hands of the white man. Rodney King beating and riots were prime example. She shook her head and cursed herself. Jamie didn't want to get into trouble.

She watched as the police officer strolled up to the back of her car, glancing at her license plate shortly. His right hand on his duty belt. Jamie thought his hand was to close to his baton. Her heart began to race.

Trying to stay calm, Jamie smile up at the officer through his black aviator sunglasses. "Hi officer," she spoke warmly. "What seems to be the problem?"

Maybe glancing up at him wasn't the best idea. From her view his blue shirt tightly fitted his torso. His muscles defined and could easily be seen. Although Jamie couldn't see his eyes clearly, they had to be a light bluish green. His face was bare of facial hair but evidence of a five o'clock shadow.

"Did you know that you were going seventy miles per hour in a forty mile zone?" He questioned her.

"No officer," she answered. "I'm in a hurry to get to work and-"

"License and registration please," he asked, cutting her off.

Without another word, Jamie reached over the middle console and opened the glove compartment to get her registration. She gave him the papers just before getting her wallet out her purse to give him her license as well.

She waited while he studied her information and grabbed his ticket book from his holder on his belt and began to write her a ticket.

"Did you know your registration has expired two weeks ago?" He asked her as he wrote her speed violation down. Jamie cursed. "Language ma'am."

She glanced back up at him. "I've been meaning to get that taken care of sir," she answered, her hands squeezing the steering wheel. "Please just don't give me a ticket my husband would kill me if he found out I got another one. I'll do anything."

The officer paused, looking up from his pad to her left hand where her ring shunned bright from the reflection of the sun. He stopped writing on his ticket book, put it where it once was and took off his sunglasses.

Bluish green eyes.

He crossed his arms, looking away from her. Since it was barely past dawn in Georgia, the roads were basically deserted. The warm breeze tossed his short brown hair back and forth.

"Ma'am where is your husband?" He questioned, his beautiful eyes landed back on her.

Jamie thought she saw his eyes trail down to her cleavage and subconsciously shifted in her seat. "He's at home," she answered. "I don't see how his whereabouts have anything to do with me getting a-"

"Is he aware that the registration on the vehicle has expired," he interrogated.

"Yes, he does," Jamie said, clueless to why he was asking her all these questions. "Please I just want to go home to him."

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