The unforgivable.
I thought I was strong enough, but I was wrong. I became the monster I was sent to take down.
Losing my lifeline… there's no surviving without her.
Chapter 22
JJ
One month later…
“It’s been twenty-nine days since I saw him.”
“So he’s not coming back to organized crime?” Dr. Ramsey asks, her face filled with compassion.
She’s been counseling me, helping me, giving me ways to cope with the rape and the loss I suffered.
“No.” I turn my gaze to the window, staring at the bare branches. “He transferred to the Behavioral Analysis Unit.”
“You don’t see Agent O’Brien around the office?”
I shake my head.
“On a scale of one to ten, one being tolerable and ten being unbearable, how much does it hurt?”
I let out a humorless sound, shake my head again, then close my eyes against the relentless ache as I gasp, “A million.”
“I’m going to prescribe you something to take the edge off. It won’t dull your senses, so it won’t affect your work.”
I manage to nod, but the unforgiving pain overwhelms me, making a lost sob flutter over my lips.
“Count down from ten to one, picturing the numbers in your mind,” Dr. Ramsey instructs.
“Ten.” God, I miss him. “Nine.” I can’t believe I lost him. “Eight.” Breathe. “Seven.” I can’t live without him. “Six.” I just want to see him. “Five.” Daniel! “Four.” I’m sorry. “Three.” I miss you. “Two.” I need you. “One.” I love you.
“Deep breath in,” Dr. Ramsey murmurs. I inhale, missing the smell of his scent. “Out.” I exhale, my chest unbearably empty.
When I open my eyes, Dr. Ramsey gives me another comforting smile. “How’s work?”
I don’t have the energy or will to climb out of bed in the mornings.
“Okay. We’re still wrapping up the Bregu case, so we’re ready when the hearings start.”
Dr. Ramsey writes something down on her notepad, then asks, “You’ll be called as a witness, right?”
“Yes.”
“How do you feel about that?”
I’m hoping to see O’Brien then.
“I’m okay with it.”
Her eyebrows lift slightly. “You’re okay seeing Zef Rama in the courtroom?”
The rape was overshadowed by the loss of O’Brien. Maybe it should gut me more, fill my nightmares, but it doesn’t. Instead, my nightmares are filled with O’Brien walking away from me.
“Yes, I’ll be okay.”
“I’m happy with your progress,” she says. “I’ll see you same time next week?”
Nodding, I force a smile to my face as I stand up. Taking the prescription from her, I murmur, “Thank you.”
On the drive back to the bureau, my thoughts churn around O’Brien. I was so shocked when I learned he transferred to the BAU I couldn’t function for a solid week. I’ve tried phoning him countless times the first week, then I got an automated message saying the number was no longer in use.
He's made it clear he doesn’t want anything to do with me.
My fingers tighten around the steering wheel, my chin trembling, and my breaths puffing over my lips.
Having sex with me was just part of his undercover job. It meant absolutely nothing to him.
Or it disgusted him.
I disgusted him.
A silent tear spirals down my cheek, splatting on my suit pants.
I never meant anything to him.
God.
My breaths falter, and as I park the car, I press my forehead to the back of my hands, counting backward from ten to calm myself so I can go inside.
Once my breathing’s back to normal, I check my face in the mirror and slap my cheeks to add some color. With a sigh, I shove the door open and climb out. It feels as if I’m in a trance. Everything I do is on automatic pilot.
I stop by the elevator and press the button, then take a deep breath as I stare down at the gleaming tiles. The doors ping open, and I glance up while stepping to the side so the people can file out, then my heart stutters.
O’Brien.
He’s lost weight, but otherwise, he still looks the same.
As he walks by me, my hand shoots out, grabbing hold of him. His head snaps my way, and just like before, it looks like he takes a physical blow.
Yanking his arm free from my hold, his lips part, and his features become stiff and blank.
“Hey,” I whisper, then clearing my throat, I say, “How have you been?”
Why did you transfer?
Why are you avoiding me?
Did I really mean nothing to you?
O’Brien glances at the group walking away from us, then mutters, “I have to go.”
When he takes a step away from me, my voice echoes through the lobby. “Wait!” Darting in front of him, I give him a pleading look. “Can we meet for dinner? Please? I just want to talk.”
He shakes his head, his eyes not once locking on mine. “I’m swamped with a case.”
He steps around me and then stalks after his new team. A surge of anger shoots through me like a lightning bolt, and totally losing my mind, I scream, “Daniel! This is it? You have nothing to say to me? You’re just going to pretend I don’t exist?”