Blood and Battle | Criminal Minds (gxg)

Chapter 77

I hold her tight to my body. "Call me. Please."

Elle kisses my forehead. "Go. The team needs you."

"You need me more."

She's clearly still exhausted from last night, her eyes red from crying. This morning we talked about what happened. I know she doesn't regret what she did. I can hear the steel in her voice when she talks about him. But she breaks down every time she sees the pain in my eyes. And my heart continues to break under the hammer.

"Go, Carli," she says again.

I kiss her one last time. "I love you."

"I love you more."

---

I trudge to my desk and drop into my chair as if my legs forgot how to function. I forgot how to function. No one says anything. No one knows what to say. I open the first file I see, praying for a distraction. For anything.

I register that Gideon stands nearby. He says something but I don't hear it.

Morgan's hand tightens on my shoulder. Finally, I look up. "Carli? We have a case."

My eyes gloss over as I stare past him. "Good."

I stand and push around him. He follows me to the door of the conference room. Taking my shoulder, he spins me towards him. "Stop."

I do, my eyes on the floor. He tilts my chin up with one hand, forcing me to meet his eyes. "You're not okay."

"I never said I was."

He sighs. "Hotch isn't coming with us."

I nod. Hotch needs to stay behind and clean up Elle's mess. He needs to decide what the consequences will be.

She killed someone in cold blood. A horrible man that was sure to hurt more innocent women.

He deserved to die. She didn't deserve to be the one to pull the trigger.

────

The day moves in slow motion, yet the hands of the clock spin in a time-lapse. I simply run through the motions. It's not a hard case, one of us could have handled it. But Hotch needed us gone for the day.

I didn't go with the strike team to arrest the unsub. So I sit in the empty conference room, alone. The shades are drawn and I don't bother to turn the lights on.

She doesn't call. Neither do I.

I don't know what's going to happen next. Our lives depend on the decisions made today. The consequences. There's always consequences.

I should know about consequences. It seems every person I touch succumbs to them. To something dark. My mother. My father. Sam.

Elle.

I stare at my fingertips. I imagine my veins turning black, spreading like spider webs across my hands. Like sickness. Like death.

Then give me the key. Unless the metal disintegrates at my touch.

────

I burst through the doors of the bullpen and rush to Hotch's office. I stand in the doorway and he turns, startled.

"Where is she?"

He glances at the door. I take the hint and close it behind me. "Where is she?" I ask again.

"We had a conversation," he replies calmly, "and I sent her home."

I stay silent and he takes it as an invitation to continue. "You should go talk to her."

"What happened?" My hands ball into fists, my nails cutting into my palms.

"Carli-"

"Aaron," I plead.

"Go talk to her."

I know I won't get any more out of him. Sighing, I stand and reach for the door. I glance over my shoulder. "I know you tried. Thank you."

I leave the room and don't look back.

---

I push open the door to our apartment. "Elle?" I call. I stop in the doorway. The lights are off, but it's late. Maybe she's asleep.

I close the door behind me and drop my bag on the floor. I hang my keys on the rack and my eyes catch on something. The absence of something. Her car keys are gone.

"Elle?" I call again. Her jacket, too. Her jacket isn't there.

I walk deeper into the apartment. Something feels wrong.

I glance upstairs and grab the railing as I take the steps two at a time. The bed is empty. My brow furrows in concern and I'm about to turn away when I stop myself.

A lamp sits on her nightstand, the one that's always been there. Nothing else. No book, no bottle of water, not even her alarm clock.

I step to her closet, holding my breath. I pull the doors open.

"No," I whisper.

It's empty.

I run back downstairs, my phone in my hand. I call her once, twice, three times. No answer. I furiously dial Garcia's number.

"The Office of Supreme Genius is closed for the night," she mumbles through the phone.

"Penelope. Are you near a computer?"

"How dare you offend me!"

I'm unfazed by her sarcasm. "Track Elle."

"What?"

"Right now." The numbness of my voice terrifies me.

I hear a brief clacking of keys. "I–I can't."

My voice lowers. "What do you mean, you can't?"

"Her phone is offline."

I don't respond.

"Carli, what's going–"

I hang up. In a sudden burst of anger, I throw my phone across the room. It smashes to the ground, the back popping off.

I stare at the broken pieces before sweeping my gaze around the room. I slowly realize why it feels so wrong. It's half empty.

Her book has disappeared from the coffee table, her mug gone from the kitchen counter. I spin in a circle, noticing missing items. Each absence cuts into me like shrapnel.

And we were the bomb.

Something catches my eyes, a reflection of light. I drift to the kitchen island. Reaching forward, my fingertips brush cold metal.

A key. I pick it up, running my fingertip along the jagged edge.

Her apartment key.

I turn my back to the island and sink to the floor, my legs unable to support the dragging weight of my heart.

The key falls from my blackened fingertips, clattering to the wooden floor.

I can't breathe. I can't think. I can't feel. The numbness is overwhelming, a flood of brokenness I'm drowning in. And no arms to save me.

She's gone. Elle is gone.

While I'm here, trapped in the box.

And I do something, something I haven't allowed myself to do in years.

I cry.

To be continued...

Book 2 out now