Grip My Heart Like My Headboard

Chapter 4

The next day, I storm into the BAU, swiping my badge at security with a little too much force, frustration rolling off me like a storm cloud. The coffee cup in my hand is just shy of scalding; I'd forgotten to grab a sleeve in my rush to get out of the house, but the sting almost feels like a good distraction. As I round the corner, I spot Tara lounging at her desk, feet up, scrolling through her phone with that easy, early morning calm that somehow always beats me to the office. My plan is to slip by without her noticing, hoping the scowl etched across my face will act as a shield.

But I'm out of luck. She looks up the second I pass, an amused glint in her eyes as if she's spotted a life raft and plans to jump right on.

"Morning, Em. You look...intense," she says, eyebrows raised.

I mutter a greeting, half-hoping it will end there, but Tara's already leaning in, her curiosity piqued.

"Hold on, park it, grumpy," Tara orders, her tone leaving no room for argument.

I stop, jaw tight, keeping my gaze locked on the floor.

"Tara, not right now, okay? I barely slept last night," I mutter, hoping she'll take the hint and drop it.

But she just sits up straighter, that knowing look in her eyes.

"Fine. Go up to your office, settle in," she says, her voice calm but unyielding. "And then, in five minutes, I'll be there, and you're going to tell me just how big of an asshole you were last night. Because, Emily—seriously—I don't even know what JJ sees in you if you're going to keep playing emotional tag with her."

Her words hit me harder than I'd like, and I can feel my fists clench, nails digging into my palms. Without another word, I walk to my office, each step heavy with the weight of my own guilt and frustration.

I close the door behind me, releasing the deepest sigh, a mix of exhaustion and frustration. Dropping my things on the desk, I sink into my chair, pressing my palms into my temples as if I could somehow knead the shame and confusion away. JJ deserves better—better than a friend who hoards secrets like shadows, better than a friend who's hopelessly in love with her and too much of a coward to admit it. She deserves more than Section Chief Emily Prentiss, who's all too aware of the horrors lurking online, knowing that somewhere on the dark web, there are twisted depictions of her, images distorted to fit the morbid fantasies of strangers. A pang of guilt cuts through me; even the darkest corners of cyber space know pieces of me that I'm too afraid to share with the one person who matters most. I bury my face in my hands, trying to reconcile the weight of it all.

A soft knock breaks the quiet, and I glance up as Tara slips in, settling herself into the chair across from me. Has it already been five minutes? Her face is a mix of curiosity and amusement, her usual go-to expression for handling my moods.

"So, are you going to tell me what's going on, or should I just start warning everyone to avoid your path today?" she teases, though there's a tinge of concern under her tone.

I let out a slow breath, pressing my hands together.

"Will showed up last night...and I left. No explanation."

I lean back, biting down on my frustration, feeling the words stick to my throat. Tara raises an eyebrow, her gaze sharpening.

"So, at what point in this story am I supposed to slap you?" she deadpans, and for a split second, I wonder if she's serious.

Honestly, I'd probably let her.

I press my lips together, fighting the prickling sensation in my eyes.

"He's always going to be there, Tara," I say, voice thickening despite my efforts to keep it steady. "When I told him about BAU Gate, he wasn't receptive. He didn't try to understand. He only wanted to know why I'd kept it from JJ."