Bitter

Chapter Eight

She told him everything. Using the scars on her skin as a roadmap, taking him through her life. She began with her family, her father tortured her mother, but she wouldn't leave him. When she got older she would take the beatings for her brother. He had never fully understood the gravity of their situation.

"Did you try to get help? Ask a school counselor?"

"I don't even know how many times. But, he was a lawyer. He could get himself out of anything, it didn't matter how much evidence. And every time I was forced to come back it was worse."

She told him how when Terrence had first taken her she thought of him as her savior, she hadn't been told of her brother. When he finally told her, she isolated herself. Refused to work. That's when the scars started adding up. His theory about the ones decorating her wrists and neck had unfortunately been true.

Spencer looked at her face. Her lip was quivering, her closed eyes were surely holding back tears. How could someone so beautiful experience so much pain?

She told him about the first time she met Marcus, and that even though he hated to do his own dirty work, he trusted no one but himself to be in charge.

Spencer listened with tears in his hazel eyes. It reminded him of JJ, he guessed all villains used the same techniques. She had had several dissociative episodes. He stopped her when she got to where JJ had been spared. She slowly opened her eyes to find herself nestled under his chin.

She feigned sleep as he called his unit chief, Aaron Hotchner. She had learned about him.

He knew she was listening, but let her. He asked for a week off, she smiled as she listened to him, curling closer into the crook of his neck.

Her phone rang, and she lazily sat up. Reaching out to her phone.

"I need you to get to New York."

"Is this another pregnant woman?" she ignored Spencer's shocked look as she said it. Manon had given up on keeping it from him.

"No. This hit is a thank you. Sex Trafficer."

"I'll be there. Am I flying private?"

"Sure. Why not."

And with a click the phone call was over. She stood up and exited to the bathroom, splashing a wave of cool water over her face. Her cheeks felt warm as she looked into the mirror. Her mascara was running, leaving drips tracing her lips. She closed her eyes as Spencer walked into his bathroom.

"What was that about? Are you pulling another hit? You just showed up to my apartment crying?"

"Yes, I am. But this ones different. I know what they did. It's a luxury I don't always get."

"And what could they have done to deserve death."

"Sex Trafficking." she answered simply. Wiping the water from her face with a towel before leaving the cramped room. Walking into his kitchen she started opening cabinets, disappointed to find them empty. "Dude, where is all your food?"

"I can't always stock up with my job. I just got back from a week-long case. And have you ever considered that you're pulling a hit for another trafficker?"

"It has. But I need to get out of DC. And even if I am, and I most likely am, it's still one less bad person out there."

"Are you kidding me? Why don't you get out of the game? I've heard your phone calls before, you have more than enough to get out of the game.

"Because this is the only thing I've ever been good at. I also don't really have a choice. I know far too much about the inner workings. I didn't always do this. I used to just get info, but that was just demeaning." she replied. She was angry, she didn't have a choice about what she did. If she could be anything else she would be happy.

But the world doesn't work like that.

"Come with me. You just got a week off."

Spencer was angry, but he still felt a pull to her, like a moth to flame, like a dog with a bone.

"Fine." What? What the hell did I just get myself into.

"Great. We gotta go to the airstrip. I trust you have a bag?"

He silently grabbed his go bag, as he followed her to the car. She drove a Tesla, as she approached the car it blinked to life, her bending over the front trunk and grabbing a small four wheeled suitcase from it.

She got in, opening her phone. "Any music preference?" she asked him.

"I like Chopin."

"Oh my lord. You can be so boring. Here." she replied, clicking a playlist on her phone.

"What the hell is this playlist?"

"It's called 'Femme Fatle' i thought it was appropirate for the occasion." she smiled. He looked at her face, a flicker of danger in her eyes, her lips, her expression in general. He watched as her head bobbed, hands turning the car. He looked out the window, Spencer hadn't realized how fast they had been going, but with everything he knew about Manon it seemed fitting she had no regard for the rules of the road. He looked back at her, making eye contact as she lip synced to the song pulsing through the car.

I recommend listening to How to be a heartbreaker to get the vibes.

"Rule number one, is that you gotta have fun, but baby when it's done, you gotta be the first to run." He smiled at her, she looked as though she was having fun, the song seemed like one she would listen to.

She shook her head, determined to not show how scared she was. She loved this song because she always felt as though it encapsulated her feelings. But as a sliver of doubt entered her mind, her eyes lost the careless look they usually held.

I don't want to lose him.

She turned, reaching to unbuckle as the car crept into the lot.

She stepped out of the lot, grabbing her suitcase from the trunk. Spencer stayed behind her as approached the plane. The heels she had shown up to his apartment in, clicking against the stairs.

Spencer hurriedly grabbed his bag and ran up the stairs. He sat down in the small plane, before realizing she wasn't there, he stood up, walking forward to look into the cockpit. A tall man sat there, flicking blinking switches. He turned around to face Spencer after realizing he wasn't alone.

"You her newest plaything? Goodluck."

Spencer wanted to ask what he meant but was interrupted by a hand on his shoulder. He took a deep breath before turning to face her. The smell of vanilla and rose filled his nose, looking down at her.

She had changed her clothes. Out of the dress she had worn earlier in the night, into a pair of tan sweatpants and a maroon sweatshirt. Her hair was down, cascading down her back as she turned to lead him to their seats. The jet seemed similar to the BAU's but it was much smaller. It told him about how long she had been doing this, and the amount of wealth she could have amassed. Of course all this could be her employers, but he didn't believe that. She pulled out a tablet and curled up across from him, watching a movie. He watched the scenes reflect across her eyes.

He watched her until she fell asleep, lightly snoring about the drum of the jet. Only after she had slept soundly for a few minutes did he dare to as well.

A/N in light of recent events, I would like to say that what happened at the Capitol was a disgrace. I am, and have been Biden2020 this whole process, and if you support trump or what happened in DC, I would kindly like you to fuck off my story. Thanks.

Now that that's over, sorry I haven't updated, school just restarted and French and English have been killing me.