The Female Unsub

Chapter Nine: Sloane's POV

TW: Depictions of Dangerous Sexual Situations / Murder / Body disposal

I step out of the black SUV and instantly hear and smell the water of the bay. He took me to the marina. Of course the fucker wants me to see the yacht that he just inherited from his father. He wouldn't shut up about it on our phone call last week so I really shouldn't be surprised. I turn back to see Max walking around the front of the car, tipping the driver generously for his discretion. I have to resist the urge to roll my eyes.

"What's the plan for tonight, babe?" I ask, wrapping my arm around his as we walk towards the dock.

"I have something very special planned for you, my Dove," he says, leading me to his boat.

I try to not cringe at the God awful nickname he gave me a few months ago when we first started our arrangement. I giggle and hold him closer, playing into his fantasy. We walk to the end of the dock and he assists me onto his 24 foot toy. He shows me to the bow of the ship where a candle-lit dinner is set up.

I look over at him and smile, "for me?"

"Only the best for you," he says, returning my smile and pulling out the chair for me. I sit and he pushes it towards the table.

We drink champagne, eat a gourmet meal and I laugh at his awful jokes. After dinner he takes me on a quick tour that ends in the living quarters of the boat and we sit down on the couch. He tells me about his wife and how bad her shopping addiction is as if he's so much better as he sits here on a paid for date. The conversation then changes to the topic of us.

"Dove," he says, scooting closer to me, "you're enjoying our arrangement, yes?"

I force a smile, "of course I am." I sip on the champagne in my glass, "you're great company, Max."

"What if I left my wife for you?" His hand rests on my thigh, "I could make you so happy."

I giggle and lift his hand off of me, "baby, you know we can't do that." I pause searching his eyes for what he needs to hear, "your prenup wouldn't allow it. Remember? The infidelity clause? Your wife would end up with almost all your assets and you don't want that, right?"

His hand goes on my thigh again and gives it a squeeze, "okay, then what are we doing here? I give you money, you eat my food, drink my champagne, and what do I get out of this?"

"Max," I try to lift his hand again but his grip tightens, "you know that our arrangement is a nonsexual one, you agreed to that when this all started."

"Yeah, well now I want to renegotiate," he slips his hand under my dress and I snap.

"No!" I scream before grabbing the empty bottle of Dom and breaking it against his temple. I run out to the deck, searching for anything I can use to defend myself.

"You fucking bitch," I hear him scream from behind me. I find a extra metal oar in the kayak that he keeps on board and pick it up. I hide behind the wall of the boat, waiting for him to turn the corner. When he does, I hit him in the head, over and over and over; until he stops moving. I look down and I can barely recognize his face. I drop the oar and my hands are shaking.

He was going to rape you, he was going to rape you, he was going to rape you; my mind repeats this over and over as I pull away from the dock and drive the boat further into the bay. Once I'm far enough away, I get to work. I clear out his pockets, take his watch and jacket before I drag him to the side of the boat. Luckily, Max here told me on our tour of the boat where he keeps the extra anchor. I loop the thick chain around his neck, shoulders, and torso, knotting it together to make sure it won't unravel and look at him one more time. The world is better off without this disgusting pervert in it. I lift him up enough so that he is leaning over the edge and toss in the anchor, using the weight of it to leverage him over the edge and I watch him sink to the bottom of the bay.

I let out a sigh of relief and begin the cleaning process. I take off my dress and slip into one of the many t-shirts he has on board. I scrub the deck and oar with bleach and hydrogen peroxide to get rid of the blood stains and any residue the bleach may leave behind, clean all of the dishes from dinner, being especially generous to the items I used. Then I use a lint roller on the couch and chair I sat on to insure that I didn't leave a single hair behind. I vacuum up the glass from the champagne bottle and empty the vacuum bag into the trash bag that holds the bloodied cleaning supplies and the t-shirt I was cleaning in.

I look in the mirror and see that I have blood on my face, chest and hands. I scrub it off with the soap in the bathroom and check my dress for visible stains. Thank god it's a black satin dress and after rinsing it under the cool water, all the blood residue comes out. I look at his watch, fuck it's almost midnight. I can't be out here too much longer, I recall his driver saying something about coming back at 12:30. I toss his phone overboard before I drive back to the marina. I carefully dock the boat, and double check everything before grabbing my belongings and his wallet, watch and jacket and a trash bag of blood stained evidence.

I drape the jacket over my shoulders, get off the boat and take the cash out of his wallet along with one of his black cards, this could be useful. I toss the emptied wallet, his watch, and everything else in the large dumpster and walk up the dock to see the car waiting for me.

I smile as I approach the driver, "Mr. Huntington said he wanted to stay on his boat tonight." I hand him two hundred dollars for his discretion, "trouble with the misses, I guess."

--

The door slams and I jump awake. I rub my eyes and realize where I am. I'm not on the boat, I'm still at the FBI headquarters. I look up to see Dr. Spencer Reid, he has a pissed off expression and I try not to smile, he's kind of cute when he's mad.

"Get up," he says sternly, his arms crossed and his eyes are dark.

I stand, "is something wrong?"

He glares at me, "you're leaving."

I smirk, it's about damn time. "But Dr. Reid," I say, stepping closer to him, "it hasn't even been a full 24 hours yet."

He says nothing and guides me to the door. His silence continues as we approach the elevators. He hands me my cell phone.

"Thank you," I smile and look down at my phone. Such a shame I'm going to have to leave it at my hotel, it's brand new.

Dr. Reid doesn't say a word, but I can feel him fuming beside me. The elevator doors open and we step inside. He presses the button for the first floor, "there's a car waiting to take you back to your hotel."

I look over at him, his jaw is locked and he's looking straight ahead. "I was wondering how I was going to get back," I say with a smirk.

The door opens and I walk out, turning around to face him one last time, "oh and Dr. Reid?" Our eyes meet, "told you you'd give up."

The doors close before he can respond and I walk towards the front door. I knew they had nothing.