Love On The Field - Spencer Reid x Reader

PART XIII

The phone rang one, two, three, four times before going to voicemail. Letting a loud huff out, she tried again. Once more, her call redirected to voicemail. Tossing the phone aside, she let her body drop on the bed and closed her eyes for a moment. Was it just too early? Or had she really meant it when she said she should stop calling her?

The sound of keys jiggling at her door set her alert. Suddenly opening her eyes, she sat back up. Focusing her hearing sense on the noises coming from her apartment hall, she stood up and carefully moved out of her bedroom. Her sharp steps silenced by her fluffy socks.

“You need to stop doing that.” She said leaning against the doorframe as she watched her sister drop some grocery bags on her kitchen counter.

“Jeez, Y/N!” Layla turned around startled. A hand pressed to her chest. “Don’t scare me like that!”

“Me?” She questioned. “You are the one entering my home without calling beforehand.”

“Why would I need to call you beforehand?” Layla questioned taking some groceries out of the bags. “Oh, in case you’re with that colleague of yours?” She asked wiggling her eyebrows.

“What?” Y/N questioned stepping into the kitchen and helping her out. “What are you talking about?”

“You know. Tall, nerdy-looking…” She described briefly, using her hands. “Reid was it?” She asked and Y/N rolled her eyes, focusing instead on putting out what her sister had brought her.

“You’re not denying it.” Layla stated with a growing grin.

“Shut up.” Y/N said closing the cupboard door and turning to her sister. “What’s that?” She asked looking past her.

“Oh, this?” She asked picking up the black box and moving it closer to her. “It’s for the gala.” She stated lifting the lid. “To make you look pretty.” She added showing her a small portion of her make-up collection.

“You know there’s still ten hours until the event, right?”

“Yeah, but I figured it’d take a while to achieve that.” She answered making her sister’s mouth open with indignation.

“That’s so mean!” Y/N responded. “I have to make a call. Why don’t you start some breakfast?” She asked winking at Layla before disappearing into her bedroom.

Reaching her bed, Y/N picked the cellphone and quickly dialed again. Third time’s the charm, they say; and she wanted to believe it more than ever. Pacing around her room she waited impatiently with the small device glued to her ear.

Y/N hated being pushy towards the witnesses. They usually talked when they were ready. They always did. Pressuring them to do it was never a good idea. It scared them. Made them nervous. And people weren’t their best selves when they were nervous. They made mistakes. But Y/N needed Holly. Even if she didn’t want to talk.

“Stop calling me.” Were the first words Holly said after finally answering the call. “I’ve already told you, I don’t know anything!”

“Holly, Holly. Listen.” Y/N said before she could hang up the phone. “Please, I just need to ask you something.” She told her. “I know you worked for Anthony. That you were his assistant. Do you know where he used to live?”

“Yes.” She answered unsure of why she would ask her that. She knew the FBI had his address. “I do. I used to pick up paperwork from his home all the time.” She told her nevertheless.

“You did?” Y/N asked.

“Yeah, I even have his-“  Holly said but stopped herself mid sentence.