"Look, Mr. Hotchner, Agent Hotchner, Hotch, my brother is dead, we've dealt with it already, I have a life, people I need to take care of, the last thing I need to do is throw my family into any unknown water anytime soon bringing this back up," I s...
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~ you turned me into a person i never wished to be ~
So far I have been able to avoid the agents all weekend, pretending to not be home and ignoring there phone calls.
I haven't been able to take clients.
I honestly don't understand why they won't take the hint of me not answering the door as a 'I don't want to talk'.
Slowly I crawl out of bed, it's Sunday morning, and walk towards my vanity.
I go on runs when I can in early mornings, its a good way to unwind and control my anxiety.
Help me forget about the nightmares.
I change into a pair of gray joggers and a dark blue sports bra, and try to control my tangled hair by placing it in a slick ponytail.
I place my phone in my pocket, grabbing my headphones from the top of my dresser, I make my way out of my room.
Once I was down the stairs I take my time writing a note for my sister telling her where I was and when I would be back.
Outside my house, I was being observed by the oh so lovely agents who have been practically stalking me for the past week in a half.
I plug my headphones into my phone and place one in my ear- I don't like not being in control of what I can hear- playing my running playlist.
I make it about 20 feet before somebody starts running beside me.
I turn down my music and keep running waiting for the Agent who was beside me to talk.
"How can you not just talk to us to get us off your back?" Aaron Hotchner demands, although his face stays in a set almost angry expression.
It almost reminds me of the facial expression Tomas used when he was talking to the family's he was about to kill.
I let out a small laugh, "Because that's what you want, why would I give you what you want when it doesn't help me, only you?" I ask rhetorically.
"Tatum,"
"Look, Mr. Hotchner, Agent Hotchner, Hotch, my brother is dead, we've dealt with it already, I have a life, people I need to take care of, the last thing I need to do is throw my family into any unknown water anytime soon bringing this back up," I say, increasing my speed.
A hand grips my arm, the same way my mom did Friday morning, causing me to wince and stop my jogging.
Hotchner lets go but stares at me, then my arm, noticing the fingerprints left by my mother.
Shouldn't have worn a sports bra.
"What happened to your arm?" he asks, pointing to the bruise.
