Secrets I Have Held In My Heart

Chapter 6

  "You were there to kill her, and you didn't suspect she would carry weapons and stab you? You know I love you, Spencer, but dear god...you're so stupid sometimes." El is currently trying not to laugh, and she should stop it before I lose what's left of my temper.

I inhale deeply, closing my eyes as her tiny fingers carefully stitch the gash on my abdomen, and this time the pain is a lovely reminder of how fucking angry I am. I can feel the needle piercing through my skin, and this structure is taking longer than usual because of the damage Florence left behind. Another useless human being.

  "You don't have to tell me. At least that cunt paid for what she did to those kids." I whisper, looking into her brown eyes, and she bites her bottom lip to suppress a smile and a laugh. I know we both had alcohol in our system, and it's a bad idea to be taking care of my profound wound, but I honestly don't care. I can tell it's not deadly.

At least I had stopped bleeding; only that sharp pain irradiating all over my body and making my head throb was left. Not even a half bottle of whiskey is helping me keep my thoughts organized. They're a rushed mess, and I can't seem to solve the puzzle.

Funny enough that women and I were in that club to kill the same man. I don't get their names. I never get the victims of mine names. Except for Florence, Addy, and Roman so far. It wasn't the first time someone died in that club, it's pretty easy to cover shit up because there are no cameras in those VIP rooms.

I had more than enough time to think on my way home, and as El took care of my wound, I was replaying the events inside my mind.

  "I come home to spend time with my best BAU buddy, and you get stabbed. What a life I live. It seems like you pay a lot more than these criminals do, getting stabbed and all." El speaks up, and I open my eyes, glaring at her.

My kitchen island is covered in bloody gauze and first aid kit supplies; she's doing things extra slowly, probably to make sure she isn't going to fuck it up. I appreciate her help; I'm unable to take care of myself.

  "They may stab me, but it's a small price to pay for what they do to the kids they abduct, sell, etc.," I say, pulling away from El and letting my dirty shirt fall on the floor after I completely remove it, grabbing the bottle of whiskey so I can take another sip as I ignore El's burning gaze on me.

  "I didn't expect your next criminal to look like that. You seemed like you were enjoying yourself...what game are you playing?" El asks me, and I focus my gaze on the floor, stopping myself from punching him in the face.

  "It's all just a game. I never enjoy myself, especially not with pedophiles. Are you insane?" I huff.

She reaches out his hand to grab mine so she can inspect it. "What happened here? Did the bitch have claws? Fuck, how bad did she hurt you?"

I roll my eyes when she pats some gauze over my wounded hand. "I killed her," I whisper, looking to meet her eyes. "I cut her neck before she stabbed me."

El chuckles, and I glare at her one more time. "Sorry, you know I laugh too much when I'm drunk. I wasn't expecting you to drag me out of the club after telling me you killed a man and then got a lap dance from your victim."

Well, it sounded pretty intense when she put it that way. Killing that man was too easy. I wasn't worried about that. No one would know it was me; I was careful, I wore my gloves and left no trace of any DNA of mine anywhere.

I'm good when it comes to my job.

  "She was planning something. I just know it. Probably to run away. She was dressed like a stripper and pretended to be a dancer. She was trying to fit in or two and lie low in a not-so-invisible job. So that either makes her stupid or smart." I shake my head, standing up from the couch and ignoring the soreness spreading through my body.

It feels like I've run a marathon; the intense adrenaline I think during the fight blinded my senses and drained me more than I expected. I just need a shower and some sleep before facing the morning.

  "You really need some rest, Spence. I will be really fucking hungover tomorrow, and we can talk about this later. You're all stitched up, so please don't burst them again." El rolls her eyes, standing up from the bar stool and grabbing the wet cloth from the center table to clean my blood off her hands.

  "You can go, thank you. I need some time to think."

El scratches her head and grabs her coat from my sofa. "Don't hesitate to call me if you need anything; I'll be in town for a few days before flying back to Cali. I'll stop by tomorrow."

I simply nod, watching her leave my house and leave me alone. After I turn on the lights, I leave the mess in the living room, making my way to my bedroom on the second floor.

I decide to take a quick shower to wash off the blood. Before I took on this job of hunting criminals, it had been many months since I bled this much or been wounded like this. After I finish undressing, I turn on the hot water and walk into the large shower cubicle, wincing as soon as the stream hits my recently stitched wound. I push my wet hair off my face and watch the blood go down the drain as it washes off my body.

A chill goes down my spine, and I take a deep breath, trying to empty my head and relax a little before my brain explodes.

Camilla. That's where my mind goes. Camilla.

I close my eyes to try and shut everything out, but it doesn't help. In the dark, I can see her long hair resting on her shoulders, she has the stick of a lollipop in-between her teeth, and I watch as she pulls the lollipop out of her mouth and throws it in the trash. She then reaches out and takes another from the small tin in the middle of the table. She unwraps it, and I notice the black elastic I have on my wrist, her hair elastic.

"What are you doing? Why didn't you just finish the one you just had?" I ask, smiling.

"It doesn't have as much flavor as when you lick it first."

I chuckle. "You're so weird."

"Wha- it's true!" She fights back, smiling as she argues.

I open my eyes again, the memory fading and the lights piercing my vision again. Her voice echoes as she fades like she's with me in the bathroom. I get out of the shower and carefully dry myself, not even bothering to put on clothes before I go to my bedside table, turning on the small lamp before I lay on my bed.

The dim light is just enough and what I need. I can't be in the dark by myself.

I just can't.