"Yes! That's it, you got it!" I encourage Amelia, smiling from ear to ear as she's balancing on the bike.

She was so happy when it arrived today, she almost jumped out of her skin. It was a true joy written on her face and it was amazing to see it. But teaching a child to ride a bike ... that was a hard task. It was way harder than I thought it would be because Amelia was fearless. Although the bike was mostly safe for her because it had training wheels on.

She was a quick and patient student, which made things easier. But I still feared anything would happen to her.

I was constantly looking around for cars, although I, of course, didn't teach her on the road, I showed her the basics in the driveway. It was big enough so she could get the feel of it and only then I took her on the street. It helps that at this hour, it's not busy with cars, but you can never be too careful.

Amelia giggles whole-heartedly. "I'm riding a bike, Gabby!" she squeals out in pure delight.

I return the happy smile she's giving me. "Yes, baby, you're riding a bike!" I say back, proud as ever. She still needs to learn how to ride in a straight line, though.

My smile quickly dies on my lips as I hear the distant sound of a motorcycle. It feels like everything inside of me tightens and my heart starts beating faster. It's too early, way too early for Alexander to be home already.

But as the sound is getting closer and closer, it gets harder for me to breathe. I seriously don't want to deal with him again after this morning. It takes all the energy in me to even be near him and be careful of what I'm doing. It's exhausting.

I see him then, dressed in a black leather jacket, black jeans and a helmet on his head, driving fast towards the house. What the hell is he doing home so early? It can't be more than a few hours since he left to go to school.

He slows down once as he gets near and I put my hand on Amelia's back so she stops, although she does it by herself as she watches her brother drive on that motorcycle.

He drives on the driveway and I quickly get myself moving, softly pushing Amelia on the back to indicate her to go forward. Just so I don't have to be anywhere near him and deal with his bullshit. I don't even dare to turn around, hoping there might be a miracle and he didn't see us.

"Look, Gabby! It's a cat!" Amelia says, staring at the cat crossing the street before us.

I don't have a chance to say anything, because something – or rather someone – grips my forearm tightly, making me turn around to meet the stone-cold look in Alexander's pair of dark brown eyes.

"What in the fuck do you think you're doing?" he seethes out lowly, only for my ears.

In my shock, I don't register at first what's going on, but then the pressure on my arm reminds me of what's happening and I try to move it away from Alexander's tight grip. He doesn't let go. "I'm teaching your little sister how to ride a bike. What does it look like I'm doing?" I snap at him, not even caring if it gets him mad or not. "Let go," I say as I try to move my arm away again.

His grip gets even tighter and his face gets closer to mine, the storm on his face strongly present. "You're what?" he asks on a whisper, his voice dangerously mad.

My teeth grit together. "Let go of me, Alexander." I stare at his eyes with as much hatred as I feel inside of me for him.

I think it's a mistake saying his name because he narrows his eyes on me. I grip his wrist and forcibly try to remove his hand from me, but he's too strong.

"Amelia," Alexander says sharply, looking behind my back. "Go back to the house. Now."

I dig my nails into the skin on his arm. "No," I protest, staring right at the storm in Alexander's eyes. His eyes swiftly fall on me. "She's not going anywhere."

"Amelia, don't let me tell you twice."

Amelia listens to him and I see her carefully driving away behind Alexander's back, leaving us alone. I'm boiling with anger because this is the second time he treated a kid – his little sister – like dirt. "You bastard. I can not believe you'd act like this to a kid. She's your sister!" I scream at his face.

"Yes, Gabrielle. She's my sister. I'm not letting you parade her on the streets. How fucking stupid can you even be?" his voice is lower than mine, but still holds a lot of force in it.

"I was teaching her how to ride a bike, what the hell is your problem? If you don't know how to have a good time, that doesn't mean others can! And will you release my arm already or will I have to remove it for you?!" I feel my face turning hot in anger. My heart is beating fast and I'm not thinking straight. I'm getting hot all over.

Alexander's nostrils flare and his eyes get so dark that they're black. I'm sure he's plotting my murder in his head and I'm sure he would get creative about the way to kill me. "Listen to me, and listen carefully. I don't ever want to see you and my sister on the streets. Ever." He squeezes my arm to make his words even more prominent.

The only thought that's running through my head is that I need to get away from him as soon as I can and go back to Amelia. So I do the only thing – the last thing I remember of to get him off me by swinging back and push him with my free hand with as much force as I have in me.

It's safe to say it didn't affect him much, he only stumbled back a bit, but his grip never loosened. He looks shocked at my action and it makes him even angrier.

"Let me go," I grit out with venom and disgust. Who does he even think he is? If he's trying to scare me ... he's totally succeeding, but will I let him see that? Hell no. I've lived with fear most of my life. But not anymore.

Alexander stares at me a little longer, still holding me, his lips curling up in a sardonic smile. I believe he's enjoying everything he's doing to me, that's how sick he is. God, I honestly despise him.

Alexander shakes his head as if he's come to a realization, the mocking smile still plastered on his lips. I quietly stare right at him, not letting him intimidate me with his stare. He might look scary and he might act scary, but, honestly, if he wants to hurt me so much, why won't he just do it instead of giving me pointless warnings? From my experience, that's not how it usually works. You don't get warnings before a person strikes. It comes to you as lighting, out of nowhere.

So, I decide right here and right now, that I am done being scared of Alexander Holt. Okay, I need to rephrase that, because I know there will come times when I'll forget about my promise and he'll probably get under my skin, but I'll fight back. I'll not show him my weakness and I'll not show him what a war I fight in my body because of him. Because he brings back the things I want to leave back. Because he makes me remember the things I want to forget.

And because I want to run away from people like that in my life, and he just keeps stepping on my path to forgetting.

I lift my chin up higher and just wait for him to wrap his hands around my neck and snap it. Or maybe I just need to stop having an imagination this wild. But it's always better to prepare yourself for what you think it might come rather than it surprising you, right?

Alexander finally lets my arm go, his painful grip probably leaving a bruise and he just turns away, putting his hands in the pockets of his jeans and saunters away as if he wasn't acting like a jerk a few seconds ago and threatening me.

"You know, you make it really hard for people to like you!" I call after his back, because I can't help myself and because I didn't put myself into enough trouble with him. Apparently. And there's a line between being stupid and being brave. I don't know where that line is, so I'm just being stupid.

Alexander stops suddenly and I actually get a shot of fear that he'll turn around and come back and really finish his job. But he just moves his head on the right side, not even looking back, as he calls, "I'm not here to please anyone, Little one. Count yourself lucky, because people still like me after worse things I've done to them that I've done to you." And he leaves that hanging in the air between us as he walks away.

I want to scream some colourful words at his retreating back, but I bite down on my tongue. I think that should be enough for today and I shouldn't push him any more. I already find it weird he didn't wrap his hands around my neck and kill me right here.

The sun is shining hard, making my already hot body – from the anger - even hotter.

And then I remember I have a three-year-old to go back to.

I go through the door and yell out her name in the otherwise silent house. Amelia instantly runs with her tiny legs to show herself. "I'm helping Rosanna," she says with a grin. "Come play ludo with me," she says and pads away to the living room. I go after her, more than happy because I could clearly use some distraction.

•••

"How was school today?" Rosalyn asks Alexander at the dinner. It's super awkward because I'm trying to avoid Alexander as much as possible and it's hard because he's sitting right across me.

Alfred is present at the dinner tonight, the first time since I came here. I think it's nice and I can clearly see how much Amelia enjoys that the whole family is gathered together. She's radiating love.

A silence falls on us as Alexander ignores his mum completely and continues eating as if she hadn't asked a question.

"Alexander?" she presses.

I hear him get out a frustrated sigh and already prepare for what's going to come out of his mouth. "Fucking peachy, mother. What do you think?" he replies with full sarcasm, his tone dismissive and filled with annoyance.

Something hits the table loudly and it makes me jump up from surprise. It's Alfred's fork in his fist hitting the table as he slammed it down. "Alex," he thunders with authority, his voice low and demanding attention. "Change your tone and your attitude when you're speaking to your mother. And you the rule about the words you can and can not use."

I watch Alexander's expression, but he keeps stubbornly looking down at the table, not acknowledging anyone in the room. "I don't give a shit," is his only reply.

Real mature.

Alfred suddenly leans to Alexander's side across the table, almost leaning on me since he's sitting beside me on my left. "Listen, boy. I don't care how you talk on the streets with your friends. I don't care what words you use. But in here, in this house, you live with your parents and your sister. And you don't speak with anything else but respect here. Are you hearing me?"

I'm stunned into silence. I even forget to eat. I don't think I even could, because the tension in the room got so thick that my stomach starts to tighten in knots and I literally fear what's going to be Alexander's next move. He's constantly like a ticking bomb, ready to explode.

He loudly drops the fork down on the plate so it clinks noisily and lifts his emotionless eyes to his dad, levelling him with a stare. "Guess I'll be going back to the streets where I can talk however I fucking want, then." He stands up. "Nice talking to you." He snorts and mockingly salutes as he just walks out of that room like the world is under his feet and he's owning all of it.

And I'm staring at his back with my mouth hanging open. Because he still manages to surprise me. I've been living with him for weeks now already and I still haven't gotten used to how he acts to his parents and the way he speaks to them. To me, sure. I can get that he doesn't like me (not get it as if I know what his reasons are, but accepted it), but acting that way towards his family ... and in front of his sister ...

People like that were never my favourite. Okay, people, in general, were never my favourite, but that kind, I have a special corner for them in my mind. And it's in the darkest corner all the way to the back, the one that has a name 'you're a complete shit'.

"Look, mum! It's an aeroplane!" Amelia makes a noise with her mouth, trying to imitate the driving machine.

God bless this child for breaking the tension.

Rosalyn cracks a smile and I silently chuckle at her happy face.

"Gabby, you never did tell us what made you want to come here for a year. You finished high school, correct?" Alfred asks me politely. He sounds like he's really intrigued in my answer and he makes eye contact with me, showing nothing but sincerity on his face.

It surprises me a bit. I'm still not used to people being interested in my life, but of course they don't know about me and the life I left behind in France. Well, they don't know other than what they read in my CV. "Uh, yes, I did. One year early. And then I just wanted some ... change." I shrug. I really can't explain it any differently and I don't want to lie. I can't tell the whole truth, either. "I always wanted to visit other places and experience living somewhere else. I saw your advertisement and, well ... here I am." I smile.

"And what about your parents? How did they react to the news about you leaving for a year?" Rosalyn asks, merely curious.

A big lump forms in my throat, almost choking me, completely taking my breath away. My eyes start to burn and sting and I quickly avert my gaze down on the table. "I don't have any family left. My parents died when I was still a child."

Rosalyn gasps and I see Alfred leans back in his chair in shock. "Oh, dear!" Rosalyn whispers, shock, grief and pity written on her face. "I am so sorry to hear this, darling."

I just shrug. Because what can I even reply to that? I'm not used to getting pity from people because of that.

"And are you enjoying being with us so far? We want to make you as comfortable as possible, Gabby. You're a family now and we'd like you to feel like it's your home, too. We're both very happy that we got to met you. You're a very kind and smart girl. And if you have any troubles, you can turn to us." Alfred lovingly puts his palm on his wife's and she looks at him from under her lashes, almost shyly.

"Gabby is nice, mummy! She plays with me! She's not like Sophie," Amelia lets out. She looks adorable with the mustard all over her face. Rosalyn gives her a napkin.

"Yes, dear. But Sophie is a nice girl, too," Rosalyn says patiently. I can clearly hear that she doesn't agree with what she said and that she's only saying it for the sake of her daughter.

But I guess she's not fooling anyone. "No, mummy. She's bad. Like Alex." And that erases the smile off my face for some reason. Not because I would care what she said – well, I do, to some point. It saddens me that a three-year-old girl has such an opinion of her older brother. It's sad to see it, because she radiates so much love, even towards him, and he's just not returning it for some reason.

"Sweetheart," Alfred chimes. "Alex is a good boy and Sophie is a good girl. They're just a little different than us, but that doesn't make them bad."

"But why they act evil?"

"Because sometimes, darling, bad things happen to good people. And sometimes, they change them." Alfred gives Amelia a cheesy smile and she gives one back.

"Gabby, sweetheart, if Alex ever gives you trouble, please tell us," Rosalyn says quietly, covering my hand with her

I force a tiny smile on my lips. "Of course, Rosalyn. He's been ... okay," I force out with strained voice. I don't know why I lie. I know I shouldn't, but then again, this is between me. Mostly, it's just him being a drama queen.