but a little happier. Maybe I was broken inside and felt like I had lost a chance at something promising, but things were looking up. Work was good, family was good, life could be good.
I just needed to find a way to make that work without Jacob.
I was the last one out, as everyone else was either at project sites or done for the day. I had a couple of more hours left on a project, but I wanted to do it at home where I could be comfortable and put my feet up. That was the joy of working for my own business.
I was just about to get into my car when I heard the sound of screeching tires. I looked up to see a small sedan coming straight at me. My eyes widened as I saw a woman with a manic expression on her face, her hands on the steering wheel. At least that’s what I thought I saw. I was too busy trying to get out of the way. I couldn’t move forward, so I had to jump to the side. I fell to the ground, the car smashing into mine with the loud sound of twisting metal and the smell of smoking rubber. My head hit the pavement, and I bit my lip, blood pouring. I groaned, clutching my head as I tried to crawl away. Had the woman’s brakes gone out? Had she missed the lane?
It couldn’t have been on purpose.
“Damn it,” a very familiar deep voice said from beside me. I looked up and frowned, seeing double, wondering if I was imagining things.
“Hotch?”
My neighbor sighed and bent down in front of me. “She wasn’t supposed to hit you. She was only supposed to pick you up and bring you to me. But it seems I was right in coming to make sure she did it right. It looks like I should’ve done it myself. But she seemed a little dramatic. What can I say?”
I knew I had to be imagining things. It had to be a concussion. I couldn’t understand it.
And then Hotch put something over my mouth, and I tried to scream. Only nothing came out, and my brain went fuzzy. The last thought I had was about the odd smell.
And then there was nothing.
Chapter 20
Jacob
I needed to get to the office before Annabelle left for the day. I knew she probably had a couple of hours yet at the drawing board unless she was onsite. I should have called her, should have waited until she came home so we could talk at her place. Only I couldn’t wait.
And I couldn’t even say that it had been a night’s sleep that had finally cleared the cobwebs.
No, I had known that I had made a mistake as soon as she left my home, leaving me standing there as if I had just lost everything. And the problem was, I had.
I was such a fucking idiot when it came to Annabelle. I deserved anything that came to me. I shouldn’t have lashed out. Shouldn’t have pushed her away because I was scared.
I didn’t know how I felt about Annabelle but watching her walk away like that, so good at hiding her pain, I knew I would never forgive myself.
I had said some cruel things to her in the past, had allowed my fear and grief of losing my brother, of losing that time and control had twisted together inside me. I ended up hurting her. I knew I was still trying to earn forgiveness for that. And now I’d added more to it by being the asshole I was.
I did not deserve her forgiveness. Did not deserve Annabelle, period. But I was damn well going to try. I didn’t know what I would ultimately do when it came to her, nor did I know what should be done. But hurting her like that had been cruel, and she deserved better. So, I would try to figure out how to accomplish that.
Even if it meant going into a place where her brothers and family were and prostrating myself at her feet. She deserved that. And more. Did I love her? I wasn’t sure. Everything felt so different than it had when I was with Susan. And yet, had I loved Susan the way I should have? That was the problem, wasn’t it? If I had to question it, maybe I hadn’t.
I wasn’t good at tasting the emotions that I was supposed to have—putting names to everything