The Murders at Club Eleven // Chanbaek Fan Fic

Chapter Sixteen

Baekhyun:

I didn't waste time changing back into my clothes from earlier. I just mashed them into a ball, grabbed my gun and phone off the table and got out of Chanyeol's apartment as fast as I could. I tripped out of the elevator and into his office, jogged down the stairs into the club and groaned in frustration when I got to the front door and found it locked. Shit.

"Need some help?" My heart jumped into my throat and I fell against the door when I spun around to see who was behind me.

"Jesus, what is wrong with you people?" I gasped and Gonho held up his hands.

"Sorry. I just...the alarm system went off. I came to check."

"Oh..." I breathed and held my bundle of clothes closer to my chest. "You're security, right? Can you open the door for me?" I asked.

"Sure." He gave me a smile and I stepped out of the way so he could unlock it. "Here you go." He held the door open for me and I mumbled my thanks as I left. It was still dark and I couldn't see anyone on the street, reporters or otherwise, so I nodded at Gonho and started walking down the road in the direction of my car.

"Who pissed in your porridge?" Hyun-jae asked when he sat down at his desk. I glared at him over my computer screen.

"Shut up." I muttered and went back to typing up my report. I WAS annoyed. I'd gotten home, had a shower, brushed my teeth...had another shower because I could still smell Chanyeol on my skin and gone to bed completely determined to forget that last night/this morning had never happened. Until I'd gotten dressed for work this morning and couldn't find my badge. I'd been in such a hurry when I was leaving that I must have left it behind. How the fuck was I supposed to get it back?

"Did Hae-won send in anything?" I asked Jin-young when he made his way to my desk that afternoon.

"No. Only that the material in the mouth is consistent with the other two victims and that there was no evidence of defensive wounds on the body."

"And we're still waiting for toxicology?"

"Yep."

"OK." I flexed my fingers and handed him the files I'd printed this morning. "No next of kin for Shin Won-hyuk. He was an orphan, adoptive parents died a year ago in a fire."

"Man..." He sighed and flipped through the papers.

"I still can't connect any of my victims together." I muttered, looking at my computer screen. "He can't possibly just walk into a club and randomly pick someone to kill right at that moment. There has to be some sort of link between them. But none of them knew each other...they didn't work together...didn't even live in the same area."

"They all look the same." Jin-young said quietly and I paused in shock.

"What?"

"They all look the same." He repeated. "Young. Skinny. A little on the pretty side. They have the same cheekbone structure if you look really closely. They all even have curly hair." He pointed out and my mouth fell open.

"They...you might be right."

"What does that mean?" He asked me, his brown eyes wide.

"That...maybe they remind him of someone." I said slowly. "Maybe someone he hated."

"Or loved." Jin-young said quietly. "You said so before, strangling is personal. And I mean, passion is personal. It would makes sense. Especially if he hates himself for it."

"He never touches them though." I frowned. There was never any evidence that our unsub did anything more than lead them somewhere private before he killed them. "He didn't even kiss them."

"He can't stand it." He shrugged.

"Yeah, I ...I see your point." I bit my bottom lip and stood up quickly. "Come on. We should go to the profiling lab and see if that changes anything."

"Coming." He scrambled behind me and we walked down the hall deeper into the building. As we were passing the break room though, something on the TV playing inside caught my eye. "Hey, is that Mr Park?" Jin-young asked.

The screen flickered and there was a close up of Chanyeol's face as he spoke to the reporters in the street. He didn't smile once, but I could see one of the reporters to his side smiling at him like an idiot. Yeah, don't let that face fool you. He's an asshole. Just at that second I remembered how Chanyeol had held me in his arms while he whispered to me just before I came in his hand and my whole body buzzed instantly, goose bumps prickling my skin.

"Are you OK?" I coughed when I realised I'd been standing there like a fool, staring at Chanyeol on the screen.

"Yeah. I think I might have a headache." I replied and Jin-young's forehead wrinkled with concern.

"I have some tablets at my desk if - "

"No. No, it's fine. I just need something to eat." I muttered.

"If you're sure..."

"Let's go. We need to get there before Narcotics gets back." I tugged on his arm.

"Baekhyun."

I pounded the bag in front of me harder and growled as I lifted my leg to give it a solid kick in its padded guts.

"Baekhyun. Nǐ zài zuò shénme?"

"Go away." I panted and moved to kick the bag again, but Yixing stepped in front of me and pushed it away, making me stumble. "What - "

"If you want to break things, find another gym." He said in Korean and I huffed at him, taking off my gloves.

"I'm sorry. I'm just angry." I said and he nodded, letting go of the bag to pat me on the shoulder.

"You know I don't really want you to find another gym, right?" He smiled at me and I stuck a finger in his dimple.

"I know." Zhang Yixing had been a member of our police trainee course, but he'd quit when he realised police work wasn't for him. I was glad. Yixing was the most beautifully innocent person that I had ever met and I hoped he stayed that way for as long as possible.

"Good." He wrapped an arm around my neck and led me to the practice mats that were empty. "You want to tell me what's wrong?"

"Work." I grunted and he tilted his head at me.

"Confidential?"

"Yeah." I sighed and started going through my Hapkido hyeong slowly to calm myself.

"How's things with Sehun?" He asked and I froze.

"We broke up." I mumbled and he winced.

"Now I understand the ..." He pointed back at the punching bag.

"I'm not angry at him." I said and went back to my Pyong Ahn Sa Dan. I wasn't. I understood why he'd left. I'd seen it happen enough to my colleagues that we almost expected it now.

"You're not?" Yixing asked, sitting down to watch me. "It seemed like... it was just a little bit more than just 'work' though." I let out a grunt and tried to focus on my form.

"It's nothing."

"You missed a punch." He commented and I pretended to kick him in the head. "You did!"

"Stop distracting me." I laughed and he mimed zipping his mouth shut.

Still, it took me three tries to get through my forms in the end.

Fucking Chanyeol.