The Female Unsub

Chapter Fifteen: Sloane's POV

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.