TW: This chapter contains descriptions of Sexual Assault
"Fuck!" I scream and hit my steering wheel as I drive away from Spencer.
Why did he have to do that? I was thrown off my game already tonight because of that stupid fucking café and then he just had to make it all worse by kissing me! Now my mind is consumed by the thought of the kiss and what it meant to him. I pull into the parking lot and rush to my hotel room. Once I close the door, my mind begins to race.
I've only kissed one other person since that night but it was my choice. My mind keeps bringing up memories of my past and then the dark ones fill my brain.
Flashes of me walking out of the library towards my car. Then he grabs me from behind and drags me into the ally between the buildings. He's holding my arms so tightly that he left bruises behind. He pressed me against the brick wall and wrapped his hands around my throat, threatening if I made a sound he would kill me. I wanted to scream but I couldn't make a sound, I could barely breathe.
The feeling of him forcing himself on me, the pain of him punching me to silence my sobs. His voice rings in my head now, calling me a whore, a dirty slut, and that I should be grateful that he chose me.
I reported it to the police. I told them everything that happened and the only things they asked me were, "what were you wearing? Did you have anything to drink? Why were you walking alone at 2 am? Had you ever met him before? Did you ever go on a date with him? Are you sure that it was him?"
They asked me those questions over and over and over again. They took pictures of my injuries, poked and prodded by body like I was the frog they dissected in high school, and made me repeat what happened to ten different officers.
But even after all of that, nothing happened. The bastard who did that to me got to walk away with barely a slap on the wrists. The school didn't even suspend him.
Everyone on campus knew what happened to me but took his side and called me a slut. My boyfriend broke up with me because any time he would touch me I would freak out. I barely spoke to my family because I didn't want them to know what happened. I dropped out of school shortly after.
My heart is racing and I can't catch my breath. Every muscle in my body is stiff and I can't move. I feel the tears rolling down my cheeks and I know I'm sobbing but I can't stop myself. It was too much, the coffee shop and the kiss, it triggered something inside that I thought I had locked away.
—
I wake up with my knees pressed against my chest on the floor. I don't even remember falling asleep last night. I must have passed out because I was hyperventilating so badly during my panic attack. I stretch out my sore joints before I stand up.
I check my phone and see that it's 8 am. I groan, tossing my phone on the bed and go into the bathroom. I flip the light on and look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark circles rim my eyes and my cheeks are stained with dried up tears. My hair is knotted and my chest is red from me scratching myself during my panic attack.
God, I haven't had a true panic attack in almost three years. My last one was the night before I met Jerry Robinson for the first time. I thought I saw my assailant at the grocery store and it sent me into a spiral.
I shake my head and turn on the shower to the hottest setting. My skin is covered with dried sweat and tears and I need to get clean. I peel off my clothes from last night and step into the scalding hot shower. I wash my hair and my body, finally allowing myself to relax and move past last night.
I step out, drying myself off and wrapping my hair into a towel. I get dressed, pulling on a pair of ripped light wash jeans, a white nike sweatshirt, and my vans. I'm about to grab my purse to go get breakfast when I hear a loud banging on my door.
"Sloane Williams, this is the FBI, open the door."
You have got to be fucking kidding me with this shit. Before I have time to react, I hear them loudly knocking on the door again and I open it to see a black male agent standing next to the blonde I recognize from the last time I was at Quantico.
"Sloane Williams," the black man starts, "you're under arrest for the murder of Jerry Robinson."
—
They put me into the same interrogation room as last time, except now I'm handcuffed to the table. I tap my fingers on the cool surface and stare at the two way mirror, keeping my facial expressions neutral but internally I'm freaking out.
They arrested me for the murder of Jerry Robinson, which means they found the body. But any evidence of that day should have been washed away in the water, right? Maybe the Uber driver talked to them? That was a mistake. I knew it right after I got out of the car that day, but I was panicking and I just needed to get out of there.
The door opens and two agents walk in, the blonde who arrested me and an older Italian man, who looks weirdly familiar but I can't quite place him, sit down across from me. Where's Dr. Reid? Can't face me after he kissed me last night? Fucking coward.
"I'm Agent Rossi," the Italian man says and that's when I realize how I know him.
His books were on the suggested reading list for my criminal analysis course when I was at ASU. I read all of them a couple of times and even attended the lecture he put on at the university. I didn't realize he was still working for the FBI though.
"I'm Agent Jareau," the blonde says. I nod, not saying a word.
"Look, we want to make this as easy as possible," Agent Rossi states, "we know you were with Mr. Robinson the night he died. We have a positive ID from an employee at the gas station that you were with Mr. Robinson and the Uber driver confirming that you left the scene bloody and shaken." He pauses, giving me the chance to speak, but I refuse. "We also know that you've known Mr. Robinson for a very long time. That he was your introduction into this world, you must have trusted him a lot."
Yeah, I used to. Before that night I thought he was one of the good ones. That he respected me and wouldn't ever hurt me, but I was wrong.
"Like Agent Rossi said, we want to make this easy for you," Agent Jareau says, interrupting my thoughts, "so just tell us what happened and we might be able to get you a deal."
I roll my eyes, "I'm not going to tell you two anything." They both look at each other then at me, "get me Dr. Reid, I'll talk to him."
Then I go silent again. That coward is going to have to face me after what he put me through last night. It's the least he could do after forcing me into a state of pure panic.
"Okay," Agent Rossi says with a shrug, "we'll get Dr. Reid."
They both stand and exit the room. I stare at the mirror again. There's not a doubt in my mind that Spencer is standing on the other side, watching me. I know I'm screwed, they know I was there and they can definitively tie me to Jerry. Even if they don't have any physical evidence that I was there, the evidence they do have is damning enough that I will get convicted and serve some jail time. But they haven't found the other bodies of the men I'm linked with and they still don't know about the others.
The door opens and Agent Rossi walks back in, followed by Dr. Spencer Reid. He looks uncomfortable as I stare him down, not so cocky in front of his coworkers I see.
"Okay, Dr. Reid is here," Rossi says, "start talking."
I face Spencer, "do you really want to know what happened, Spencie?" He nods, avoiding direct eye contact. "I'm going to need you to use your words, Dr. Reid. You know, unlike you did last night." I see Rossi look over at Spencer, silently questioning what I mean by that.
"Yes," Spencer says, "tell us what happened."
I lean back, "fine. But I'm going to need some guarantees before I say anything and if you can't do that, then I will happily invoke my right to a lawyer."
"What do you want?" Rossi asks.
"I want the death penalty taken off the table, I know it's still practiced in Texas and I don't want to die via an electric chair or lethal injection," they both nod and I continue, "also, I want to go to a prison in Arizona, that way I'll be close to my family if they choose to see me after this."
"We can try our best, but we can't guarantee anything until you tell us what you know," Rossi states.
"Get me the guarantee, otherwise you get nothing," my eyes are locked on Spencer but he's still avoiding my gaze. "What's wrong, Dr. Reid? You can't even look at me after you kissed me last night?"
Given both his and Agent Rossi's expressions, he hadn't told his team about that.
"Oh, I'm sorry," I say with a low chuckle and my lips curl into a smirk, "was that supposed to be a secret, Spencie? You didn't want your team to know that you crossed a line with a person of interest?"
His eyes narrow at me and I see the familiar vein in his neck protrude under the skin, I'm pushing his buttons.
"So, here's how this is going to work," I say, looking between the two agents, "you need me to talk and I need those guarantees. I'll give you two hours to figure it out before I lawyer up, okay?"
I lean back in my chair and fold my hands on the table. I'm done talking because without my confession, I might stand a chance in court. But if I do confess, I could get a plea deal for a reduced sentence. Either way, I stand a chance of getting out of this with minimal damage to myself.
They sit there for a moment, probably to make sure if I'm serious or not. But when the silence continues and they see my eyes on the clock, the stand and leave the room. They have two hours, and they better get me my deal.