CHAPTER FOUR
Emily sighed as she stepped out of the shower in sweatpants and a t-shirt, a towel still going through her hair. The knock at her door had drawn her from the bathroom. She rolled her eyes when she recognized Derek on the other side. “What?”
“That’s not a very nice greeting.”
“Derek, I want to go to bed,” Emily replied, annoyed. “I’m exhausted.”
“I’m just checking on you,” Derek replied carefully. He knew he was treading scary ground even being there, but knowing that each of these women fit his best friend down to almost the smallest detail scared him. She was dealing with enough right now without having to add a case where she was a virtual victim to that list.
“I am fine,” Emily said almost through clenched teeth, stepping aside to let him in. “Is there a particular reason you’re all hovering?”
“We?”
“You for one. Hotch for another.”
Derek raised an eyebrow. “Hotch?”
“He’s been watching me,” Emily said as she plopped down on the bed, dropping her towel beside her.
“Okay…”
“He was the one who suggested we come back early. Apparently an early night means hitting the ground running tomorrow,” she replied, running a hand through her knotted hair, pulling some of the tangles out along the way.
“And you don’t believe him?”
“You said it yourself, I look like crap.”
“Doesn’t take a profiler to see that.”
“Well I don’t need to be coddled, okay? I know what I’m doing.”
“What you are doing is running yourself ragged.”
Emily rolled her eyes. “Thanks.”
Derek shrugged. “Anything I can do to help.”
“Is it that bad?” she asked with a sigh. “Is it really that obvious?”
“There was a reason we told you to take time off, Em.”
She looked over at him as he took a seat on the bed beside her. “I can’t.”
“You can. None of us will think any less of you.”
She managed a small smile. “I…”
“You’re going to head to bed,” he finished for her. He ruffled her hair as he stood up and headed for the door. “You know where I am when you need me.”
“When?”
He just smirked as he pulled open the door. Then he stopped. “Hotch, hey.”
“Morgan.”
Emily’s head snapped up at the sound of her supervisor’s voice. What was he doing there of all places? He should be in bed or working on files or calling Jack. And she wasn’t wearing a bra. Talk about awkward. She stood, folding her arms under her breasts. And how was she supposed to try and get some sleep when the team seemed to be alternating coming to visit? She stopped at the end of the short hallway past the bathroom, watching both men.
“Night Em.”
Oh, she was now seriously considering killing Derek later.
“Emily.”
She tried not to shiver at the use of her first name. “Hotch.”
“May I?”
She nodded with a sigh, waiting until he passed to hit the bathroom again. The least she could do was throw her hair up so it didn’t look like a complete rat’s nest. She sung silent praises when she realized she’d left her clothes in there. “Is something wrong?”
“I want you to take time off.”
“Now?” she asked, poking her head back out the door in surprise, one hand holding her tangled dark hair up.
“After this case.”
“Hotch, for the last damn time, I’m fine.” She knew she was bordering on insubordinate, but what else could she do? At home, she would simply think about everything, focus on what was tearing her apart. Working she could focus on other things, push her nightmares to the back of her mind. She like that idea so much better. He hadn’t said anything and it disconcerted her. She stepped out of the bathroom, bra securely fastened, hair yanked up into a messy bun at the back of her head. “Hotch?”
He was seated on the bed, hands resting on his knees. He’d obviously left his suit jacket in his room and he’d rolled up the sleeves on his shirt. Emily tried to stamp down an unwelcome shot of arousal. He looked good a little more rumpled than usual.
“You’ve been through a lot.”
“Nothing no one else has been through before,” she replied, stopping all of five feet from him. Her arms crossed again, defensive and protective. “You’re not pressuring Reid to go home.”
She made a good point and it showed in the micro-expressions in his face.
“I appreciate the concern,” she began carefully, “but I’m fine.”
“You’re exhausted.”
“It happens. It hasn’t affected my job.”
He watched her, had followed her back to the hotel where she was staying with her colleagues. He’d seen the African-American come and go, had watched the way they interacted. They were too close to be colleagues. She’d probably slept with him too, the little whore. Then he’d come in. The same guy in the suit she’d been sitting close to in his diner. He knew he was right. He was always right.
And now the guy was stepping closer to her, ever closer. And she wasn’t moving away. Of course she wasn’t moving away. Why would she? Why should she? They were sleeping together, of course. She’d probably worked her way up the chain in her team too. The African-American was only one on her conquering list up to her boss.
He couldn’t watch anymore, couldn’t watch them actually…. He growled, turning away. She was next, had to be next. He was going to clear the world of these types of ladder-climbing whores if it was the last thing he did!
“That doesn’t mean it won’t. You’re exhausted, we can all see it.”
“Which is why we’re back here now,” she said, tightening the grip on her arms, eyes flashing. “Which means I should probably get to bed.”
He knew he was treading a delicate line. Her eyes were blazing, her voice deliberately calm. “Emily-“
“What?” Temper and irritation were leaking into her voice now. It wasn’t all that much of a surprise. She was getting angry.
He had no idea what had come over him, had no idea why he was still stepping closer to her. He couldn’t stop himself from doing it either, couldn’t seem to keep himself in check.
“What is it Hotch? Am I… more fragile? Am I any more of a mess? I spent three days in that compound, no more than Reid did and I’m not the one with a drug history!”
It was terrifying to watch her. She was breaking down right in front of him and he knew that. He hadn’t expected it. She’d kept so strong in front of them all up to this point, and though he knew she was having nightmares, the team knew she was having nightmares, she’d never exhibited any sign of breaking down or having it all finally express itself. “Hey,” he said gently, stepping forward again. “Reid wasn’t the one beaten in that compound. Reid wasn’t the one that came out of there with a black eye, cut lip and cracked ribs.”
She didn’t pull away when his hands came up to cup her elbows. She wasn’t looking at him either, her head having dropped after her outburst. She was shaking and he guessed it was with suppressed tears. He had no idea why he was there, what had driven him to check on her. Maybe it was the fact that she’d fallen asleep, dead to the world, after being in the SUV for five minutes. Maybe it was because he remembered the intense relief at seeing her alive and the way his heart clenched at her injuries. Maybe it was because he could see that she needed support she wasn’t willing to ask for.
“Emily…”
Then she was against him, in his arms, and he just held on.
He hadn’t been able to leave. He’d had to watch her, watch this unfold. She’d fallen so easily into his arms, the same way she’d looked comfortable so close to him at the diner. And colleagues shouldn’t be that comfortable with each other. Ever.
So he’s show her what whores got. And he was going to enjoy every minute of it.