Over Your Shoulder

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

17/04/2020. 12:23 hours. David Rossi’s House, Virginia.

Spencer was nose deep in his reports, having just given a profile to Charleston Police Department for an elusive arsonist they had been searching for for weeks. He deeply missed being in the office. He missed the bad coffee, the camaraderie amongst the team, and the games of poker for nuts, pretzels, and candy.  He sat back in his swivel chair and brushed his curls out of his face. He stretched his arms above his head, relishing in the way his spine clicked. The screen lit up on his phone screen, indicating that he had a call. Spencer glanced at it to see that it was JJ. He smiled to himself and answered the call. His hair fell down his wrist as he held his phone to his ear.
“Hey, JJ. How are you?” asked Spencer as he came to his feet and made his way over to the large window looking out onto the garden.
“Hi, Spence.” Spencer recoiled at the nickname. “It’s so good to hear your voice. I miss you. How are you?”
“I’m okay. This isolation is killing me, though.”
“Hopefully, Trump will let us return to the office soon.”
“God, I hope so. I miss the bad coffee. I miss everyone. I miss you. And you have no idea how much I miss Henry and Michael. How are my godsons?” JJ laughed softly.
“They’re great. Henry’s a typical teenager now. They love not being at school.”
“Well, Henry’ll have to work super hard when he goes back. I promised him I would get him into Caltech, and I won't break my promises.” Spencer frowned as he caught movement out of the corner of his eye from behind some bushes. He could barely hear JJ talking over the static in his ears. He froze in place, heart pounding against his ribs.
“Spence? Are you still there?” Spencer shook his head.
“Yeah, I’m here. Sorry.”
“It’s okay. Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Yeah. I’m fine. Listen, I need to get back to my consults. Talk to you later, alright?”
“Of course. Be safe.” Spencer turned his attention back to the window as the call ended. He peered into the trees, determined to find what he saw. All he could see was slightly swaying trees. He had seen something. He was sure of it.

Spencer snapped his gaze to his phone that pinged in his hand. It was a message from an unknown sender. He cautiously opened the message to see a photograph of him standing at the window on his phone. He wore a purple button-up and black dress trousers. This was taken today…. Just now…. Spencer felt his heartbeat speed up, breaths coming as ragged gasps. Another message followed.

You look good in purple, Spencer. Can’t wait to dress you up, and then tie you up all nice and tight. You’re going to look amazing with tape on your mouth and my teeth marks in your skin.

Tears streaked down Spencer’s face as he slumped down to the floor with his back against the wall. The phone dropped from his trembling hand and clattered against the laminate flooring. He could barely get in a breath, his lungs contracting. The room was spinning around him, and his blood rushed through his ears. He rested his head back against the wall, hoping that the small fraction of increase in his hollow neck would aid his breathing. He felt a crawling sensation over his lips and down his chin. He whimpered at the jolts of electricity he could feel in his limbs. Spencer’s head tipped to the side, and his eyes rolled back. He slid across the wall until he landed against a small wooden case filled with a variety of books on psychology and criminology. His fingers clenched into fists at his sides, every muscle taut in contraction. His limbs jerked furiously, his head bouncing against the bookcase. His huffs of breath were uneven.

…

David had been preparing a tray of sandwiches for himself and Spencer in the kitchen when he heard a dull thudding sound from the office. He approached slowly, listening as the sound got louder and more frequent.
“Reid?” David’s response as he neared the closed door was the repeated noise and throaty huffs. He closed his fingers around the steel door handle and pushed the door open. He was horrified to find Spencer slumped against the bookcase, his head thumping against the side. Blood was gushing from his nose, dripping steadily onto his shirt. David dropped to his knees beside the young man, suddenly unsure of what to do. He noted Spencer’s phone on the floor, and a text message was still open on the screen. His curiosity piqued, and he skimmed the message.