sociopath - spencer reid. ✔️

| 11

| SECRETS & LIES |

AEYLA watched Spencer as he packed the narcotics into boxes, wearing a blank and emotionless expression.

It had been one week since they've spoken, and two weeks since Spencer had been abducted.

To be honest, the man looked terrible. He seemed to have stopped caring about how he looked, letting his hair stick up every which way and clearly not washing it. Spencer had massive dark circles, which were more prominent than per usual.

Aeyla still felt terrible; but she was mostly angry at him now. He didn't understand that she was doing this for them. He let his jealousy get in the way of them being there for each other always, and she didn't get it at all. Jealousy was a weak emotion.

But he was right for not trusting her. No one should—she was a sociopath.

She let out a sigh, rubbing her temples. Jaxton glanced at her from her side, a concerned expression of his face.

"You okay?" He asked, an arm sneaking around her waist.

"Yeah." Aeyla said in a strained voice.

"You look tired. Maybe you should go lay down and rest." Jaxton said. "I got the shipment orders."

"No, it's fine."

"No, go."

"Jaxton—" She furrowed an eyebrow at him, shaking her head.

"Aeyla." He shot back with a warning look and the woman slumped her shoulders. "Can't let you get sick when the endgame is nearing."

"I'm not weak." Aeyla replied in annoyance. "But fine."

"Go." Jaxton smiled at her, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek. He patted her back, and the woman sulked off.

Aeyla reached her room, closing the door behind her and slumping onto her bed. She would be lying if she said that Jaxton wasn't warming up to her—as terrible as it was. As terrible of a person she knew he was.

She had a taste of what it was like to have someone to talk to—someone that genuinely wanted to help her—for once. That person was Spencer, but now that she had chased him away, Aeyla only had Jaxton.

And Aeyla knew she was a shitty person for it.

The woman let out a small sigh, letting exhaustion take over her body. Soon enough, her eyes fluttered closed and she slipped into the abyss.

"Mom!!" 8-year old Aeyla yelled, jumping into her mother's arms. The older woman's tacky flowery-scent was what always stood out to the little girl; it was simply a smell that she had associated with her mother so closely.

"Hi honey!" The woman smiled sweetly, outer edges of her eyes crinkling up. "How was your day? Did you do your homework?"

"Yup, and I even drew you a picture—" Aeyla started, but was soon interrupted by a loud crash. Her and her mother spun around, being greeted by a man dressed in all black.

"Thomas!!!" Her mother yelled, and soon enough, Aeyla's father came running into the family room.

"Who the hell are you? Why are you in our house—" Her father asked in a rushed tone, stepping in front of his wife and child. The man dressed in black said nothing, shooting him in the foot.