TITLE: Abby's Project part 1
By Ruth Neilson
SEND A PRIVATE COMMENT
SEND ARTICLE TO A FRIEND
She sits in the corner of her makeshift room, refusing to let me, her husband near her. It’s been this way since the last undercover assignment went afoul. Who is she? That’s Abby...one of the best members ever to grace our team’s presence.
Her small size and seeming demure attitude would mark her as the least likely person to become a cop. It’s a rarity to find Abby doing anything but obsessing over capturing the criminals. She is often like a bloodhound, capturing the scent, or a pit bull that refuses to give up, even after she is told that the case is going nowhere. Despite all of her ambition, she is also very careful, planning out each sting operation—because failure is not an option for her.
But with the last assignment, she got sloppy. She was grabbed and then brutally raped...and I couldn’t protect her. Now, three weeks later, I can see that her soul is slowly dieing...
Something needs to give. She has to allow herself to heal and soon. My Abby is fading away from me.
I swallow and tap once on the door as I lean against the frame. She is busy putting on the final additions of her uniform on. Unfortunately, the raven-haired beauty does not look up.
“Danny, look, I’m fine!” She spits out, tightening the belt a notch tighter. She was thin to start with but now, she is allowing her sickness to steal away what is left of her.
“I can’t let you go in today.”
“And why not?”
“We have a few days of leave, Cap’s orders. Ya know he’s just as worried about you as the rest of us. We need to talk about what happened.”
Abby stares at me, like I’m speaking in another language. Her gray eyes are darkening in either fear or anger. Right now, I am leaning towards the second. She is challenging me to cross that unspoken boundary she erected weeks ago, daring me to unleash the explosion that could equal the damage of a nuclear bomb. It has to be better than her numb reactions to the world around her the last three weeks.
“You are my best friend, my wife, and my partner...” I begin carefully, approaching her as if she is a scared deer that startles easily.
“And you failed me!” She screams, unclipping the black tie and throwing it at me.
“Yes, I failed to get in there on time to protect you, but I got there to get you out. All I’m asking is for your forgiveness...for you to lean on my strength for a time.”
“I can’t.” She states, turning back to the sleeper sofa that is now her bed. Sighing, I watch her carefully; this is harder than I thought. She has to know the truth before this goes any further.
“You can’t, or you won’t, Abby? You are killing your very soul, and that is killing me. Because the more of your soul you allow them to kill, there is less of you for me to love...I can’t watch this anymore. Abby, please, just talk to me.”
She huffs once, slowly unbuttoning her uniform blouse, revealing her white undershirt. Finally, she looks at me. Her smoky eyes have that look in them. I recognized it from busts when the criminals knew that they were caught. She’s either going to fight, flee, or accept what I said.
“Danny...” Her voice breaks as she sinks down on the edge of the sofa and softly begins to spill her guts. I ease myself next to her, carefully, so that I won’t spook her.
She needs this. No, her soul needs this. She leans against me, weeping silently, drawing strength from God and me...but mostly God. It is still going to be a long battle, but something has been broken in that moment.
The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.