AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“That’s not really the point though, is it, Jessie?” he chided. “You’re out in the field, at the very least interrogation-adjacent, passing out just days after slamming your head against the side of a pool. This isn’t what we agreed to.”
“It’s as close as I can get,” she snapped, surprising herself with the sharp edge in her voice.. “Everyone wants to keep me in bubble wrap, but I can’t function that way. I feel like you’re trying to strap me into a straight-jacket. You have to stop suffocating me!”
The line was silent. She realized she had gone too far. He wasn't trying to suffocate her. He was trying to help her when she wouldn't help herself. She knew she should apologize, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. When Ryan spoke, his voice was quiet and pained.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Why are you doing this? I mean, why are youreallydoing this? It can’t be for Dr. Lemmon anymore. You’ve gone above and beyond on this case, done way more than she would expect or even want. If she knew you’d collapsed, she’d be appalled that it was in the service of something she’d requested. So why?”
She thought about it for a moment. And when she answered, she didn’t try to sugarcoat it.
“Everything is spinning out of control, Ryan,” she said, suddenly exhausted. “Haddonfield is out there somewhere. So is Ash Pierce. I have no idea what’s going to happen with my brain. Mybrain, Ryan. Do you realize how helpless I feel knowing that at any minute, I could start bleeding in there, and without warning, I'd just be gone? It's terrifying to think about, which is why I don't do it. This case—the one you said I could pursue—is the only thing I have any control over right now. I can study the evidence. I can evaluate suspect credibility. I can look for clues. If I don't have that, I'm left just sitting on my hands, waiting for the world to take shots at me. That's not who I am, babe. I can't do it."
The other end of the call was hushed, and she thought she heard him catch his breath as if fighting back tears. She continued quickly.
“Look, I’ll try to slow down. I won’t engage anyone directly. I’ll stay in the background as best I can. How does that sound?”
It took several seconds for him to answer.
“It sounds better, I guess,” he told her, though he sounded defeated.
She wanted to tell him that she'd beg off the case completely, but she couldn't do it. That would be a lie and they both knew it. She couldn't say she'd stop because, in the end, she just didn't want to. Ultimately, it was as simple as that.
***
They were halfway back to HSS when it all hit her at once.
“Can you pull over for a moment?” she asked.
Grover moved to the shoulder of the road and stopped. Jessie opened the door and leaned out, waiting to throw up. When that didn’t happen, she swung her legs over to the side, pressed them hard into the asphalt and leaned over, resting her elbows on her legs and her head in her hands.
“You okay?” Grover asked in a quiet, concerned voice.
“I will be,” she assured. “I just need a minute.”
She closed her eyes and tried to breathe out her anxiety, but unwanted thoughts kept pummeling her. A flash of Mark Haddonfield, standing over Hannah’s broken body flashed through her mind before it was replaced by one of Ash Pierce doing unmentionable things to Kat. She pictured Ryan placing flowers at the base of a gravestone with her own name on it. Flickering visions of Gemma Britton and Isabel Shea lying on morgue tables forced their way into her consciousness.
She was as helpless to hold back the images as they poured into her brain as she was to fight back against the horrors they represented. Everything was at a standstill, even as it all simultaneously unraveled. She needed help, and there was only one place she could think of to get it. She twisted around, got back in the car, and closed the door.
“We’re not going to HSS,” she told Grover.
“Where then?” he asked.
“We’re going to see Janice Lemmon.
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE
Jessie got lucky.
According to Lemmon’s assistant, Amy, the doctor’s 3 p.m. patient wasn’t feeling well and left early, leaving a window before her next session. Grover pulled up at the building adjacent to her office at 3:42. Jessie wanted to hop out and have him meet her up there, but all it took was a dismissive stare from him for her to give up on that idea. By the time they went through the tunnel, stairwell, service elevator security routine, and she actually stepped into Lemmon’s inner office, it was 3:50.
“Look’s like it going to have to be a mini-session,” Lemmon said with a grin as she got up from her desk, grabbed her cane, and shuffled over to her plush conversation chair.
“I’ll take whatever I can get,” Jessie said, taking a seat opposite her.
“What’s going on?” Lemmon asked.
