Spencer Reid Addiction Novels & Stories

They follow a drug addiction rehabilitation program at one of the rehab institutions. When he was a speaker at an anti-drug event at the Wahid Hotel, some time ago, Eric told me that his life and the life of his friend, the vocalist, were destroyed because of drugs. At that time, Eric kept the name of the band and the vocalist involved in drugs a secret. But I know the vocalist he's referring to.

"I thought it was good because my father wasn't around, and I could do everything on my own terms. But I knew I was overdoing it, and I couldn't stop. I knew I had a problem, but I couldn't stop." "Nora..." she felt Nathan's hand on her face, and turned to him. "Then I met you, and everything changed. I really wanted you so much. I loved you with all my heart, and it was scary. It was scary because you saw my addiction. The problem I hid from everyone else, you saw it. You talked about it every time. You called me out on how my body was my only asset, and you inspired me to change." "Fuck!" "I really tried, Nathan. It was hard. Sometimes I thought I would die from how hard it was. But becaus

He rasped peering into her eyes, drowning in the depths of her soul with that intense cold gaze. "Don't worry. I'm not this stupid when I'm sober. Let me assure you, it's the alcohol talking in my system." She muttered trying to pull free as he had loosened his hold a little so she could talk properly. She was blabbering and slurring. "This is concerning, I don't feel strong enough. What if someone tried to hurt me? I think you're right-" She was blabbering while trying to free herself from his solid hold when he spoke up.

He apologized the next day but had more drinks that night. Spencer did not want to admit he was using alcohol as an excuse to do things he would not dare sober. Perhaps it was a man's baser instincts, but his initial guilt gave way to indulgence. He even found pleasure in ways he had never imagined before. Even when Ariana resisted, he felt an intense satisfaction. However, Spencer's guilt multiplied as Ariana's mental state deteriorated afterward. But his craving for her body was addictive. He could not control his urges to be close to her.

It happened so quickly that my mind couldn't process what to do. “Shit.” I hear Spencer cursing under his breath. “My eyes are closed. They are closed!” He assures me, making me take a breath of relief. I don't even know how to face him. I don't even know he feels the same as me but I'm afraid to find out. Even though I didn't know last night but now that I'm sober I'm pretty much sure that he wasn't himself last night due to alcohol. I mean he was with Freddie before I joined them in the party. It's possible and seems like the only plausible explanation. And it's the reason why I'm finding it hard to face him.

“He said people like me needed structure. That if I kept running from help, I’d be dead in six months. Then he repeated the offer. Adoption. Full rights. No paperwork tricks. He wanted me in.” Max exhaled. “And you said yes.” “I didn’t have a choice,” Spencer said simply. “I was alone. Bruised. I couldn’t afford another hit like that.” Max rubbed a hand over his face. “What about Thomas?” Spencer’s mouth flattened. “That’s when I found out. He had already accepted the offer. He wanted me gone because he didn’t want to share the spotlight. He knew Alexander would only officially take in two. Maybe he thought if I wasn’t in the picture, he’d get everything.”

I wanted to shove my cock into something, someone—a woman. “And why do you need them?” He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. I wasn’t an addict, at least that was what I convinced myself for the past six years I did drugs. I was sent to rehab after nearly dying from an overdose, and that was how I found the new hobby—women.

His voice in my head. Lane’s voice too—quieter, steadier. “Addiction is often just an ache for something that feels like power.” What did Jason make me feel? Wanted. Needed. Destroyed. He gave me the illusion of power by taking all of it away. And now… I didn’t know if I missed him, or the part of me that didn’t know any better. I woke up the next morning to a message from an unknown number. “He won’t love you when he finds out what you are.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “He destroyed my family,” Tiana said evenly. “And used your access to frame him.” A flicker of something—fear—passed through Marianne’s eyes. Vince saw it. “What did he have on you?” Silence. Then Marianne’s composure cracked like thin glass. “My son,” she whispered. The room stilled. “He has my son,” she continued, her voice trembling now. “Two years ago. A fake drug charge. Evidence that would put him away for fifteen years. Caldwell made it disappear… in exchange for favors.”

That was something I'd noticed early and never said out loud. "Maddox retired four years ago," I said. "He moved to Florida." "He's still there," Spencer said. "My contact confirmed last month." "He knows what he signed," I said. "He's been waiting for someone to come find him for ten years." "Maybe," Spencer said. "Or he's convinced himself it was just paperwork." "People convince themselves of a lot of things," I said. "It doesn't stop the truth from finding you." I set the report aside and pulled out the financial records. Forty pages of forensic accounting that had taken eighteen months to compile and had cost Spencer more than I was comfortable thinking about which I'd paid back most of