"There was one night in Islington a few years ago. Things were pretty different back then. Sin and Ryder were good friends if you can imagine that." I have to control myself not to scoff out loud. "Ryder had a thing for me, but I just wasn't into him, you know?" She looks at me.

"So, that night, Ryder got too high or too drunk or both, I don't even know. And he tried to ... force himself onto me." Sam closes her eyes and focuses on steadying her breathing. It seems this is hard for her.

I put my hand on hers, squeezing it. You're not alone in this, I tell her in my mind.

"I was drunk, too," she continues. "My struggling was weak. He took me to the same place he took you tonight. And he just ... went for it." Sam shudders at the thought and my heart starts beating faster in dread.

Sam's been through this, too?

"Sin saved me that night. I don't know how he knew Ryder took me, but if he didn't come when he did, Ryder would ... he would ..." Sam doesn't finish the sentence. She doesn't have to.

I wrap my arms around her, squeezing my eyes shut, giving her my silent comfort. You're not alone in this, Sam.

I want to tell her. I want to tell her that story. But I'm still a coward. I can't let a word out of my mouth.

"I didn't tell you this to feel bad for me, pretty face. I'm over it. I told you because I wanted you to know that what happened tonight will never happen again. And this hurt won't last forever. I promise."

Sam's whisper in my ear makes me clutch her even tighter. You have no idea, Sam. It never passes. It never stops.

I don't dare to say anything, though.

"Want me to stay with you tonight?" Sam offers kindly.

I know that if I said yes, she would stay with me. Without hesitation. And now that I know her story, it feels like I'm connected with her on some deeper level. We both share the same pain. We both got hurt in the same way, from the same thing.

But I shake my head no. I want her to go home and not worry about a pathetic little me. She's done enough for me already. I don't want to ask for more.

When Sam pulls back, I look into her make-up smeared face. She puts her hands on my cheeks and looks me with a deep look. "I'm still me, Gabby. And you're still you. He didn't change you." I roll my lips into my mouth to not let a loud sob out. "You have that fire somewhere inside of you, pretty face. Don't let him extinguish it." She drops a tiny kiss on my forehead. "I'll call Alex in," she says with a knowing smile.

I blush. I don't know why, but just the mention of his name brings completely different memories in my head from tonight. I lower my eyes and nod, biting my lip to keep my smile at bay. My hands start to tremble just knowing I'll get to see his face again.

Sam goes out and I immediately hear her say, "I think she'll want to see you."

I flush even harder. Alexander was by the door this whole time?

There's a pause before Sam adds. "And don't be an asshole. At least not tonight."

Alexander mutters something in response that I don't catch.

And then he walks into my room and my breath escapes my body. Why am I so nervous? It's not like it was the first time we kissed.

Ha. Funny. I want to throw up.

Alexander stands by the door, visibly uncomfortable. He puts his hands in his pockets, his eyes landing on the bruise on my cheek.

"I won't bite you if you come any closer, you know," I try to crack a joke. Funny, how I still find it in me to joke in a situation I found myself in.

Alexander keeps standing there, probably not knowing what to do with himself. I know how he feels. I don't know what to do with myself, either.

And then he starts walking. And keeps walking until he's by the bed. And then he sits down beside me, the mattress dipping under his weight.

I catch his smell. Of smoke. Of Alexander. My hands clench into fists as it awakes the memories still too alive in my head.

"What happened tonight, Little one?" Alexander asks softly. With wonder.

His voice is so tender, it surprises me. It's like it's not even his voice. But, of course, it is. I could never mistake that deep, manly tone.

My breath catches in my throat at first because I think he's asking about the kiss. But then I notice his hands flexing and unflexing against his thigh, making fists and then unclenching them again. He's asking about Ryder.

I close my eyes at the flashbacks I get the instant his name pops up in my brain. "Nothing," I whisper. "Nothing happened." And that's the truth. The whole story.

"Well, something clearly must have happened." When I open my eyes, I notice Alexander looking at my bruise, his fists now clenched again. And I love how he says this with that prominent English accent, now more present than I've ever heard it from him before.

I open my mouth, wanting to deny it again. But then I think about it again. What would it change if I told him everything about this night? It could help me, that's for sure since I always wished to have someone to listen to me and what I have to say. And now I have that somebody, sitting beside me.

Ironically, I found that somebody in my enemy. But is he really that?

Alexander saved me, after all. I don't think he's the villain here, nor my enemy anymore. I think it's something else I can't put a finger on.

So, I make a decision and open my mouth. And just let the words flow out of my mouth, "I went out to take some fresh air and to clear my head a bit. I guess I didn't watch where I was walking and I got a little too far away from the house. And when I wanted to just go back, Ryder appeared from somewhere." I shake my head, furrowing my eyebrows. "I don't even know how he'd find me. My guess is that he followed me."

"Motherfucker," Alexander curses under his breath.

I don't comment on it. "And then he just grabbed me. I was struggling. I really was. But then, before I knew it, he put some cloth over my mouth and I lost my conscience. I only gained it when he took me to that room. He was just trying to tie my hands to the bed, but I started struggling, making it impossible for him to handle me how he wanted. He kissed me, tried to make out with me, forcing his mouth everywhere I didn't want him to. I kept struggling and kept moving. He slapped me and in pure rage, I managed to buckle him off the bed."

If I wasn't so shaken up about the encounter, I swear I'd smile and be proud of myself. "I scrambled off the bed, but he pulled me back by the leg and I kicked him in the shoulder." I wave my hand around. "Anyways, you came then and he had to leave me there, said he has to handle this." I chuckle. "Well, he really didn't handle it that well, after all, huh?"

I finally chance a look at Alexander, my smile still intact, but it slowly disappears when I see him staring at me, all serious, looking like he's absorbing my every word. He has that deep, intelligent look in his eyes. It makes me nervous.

Alexander suddenly grabs my face with both of his hands, hugging it with his big palms. "I'm so fucking proud of you. So fucking proud," he breathes. "And I regret so much that I didn't put a bullet through his skull instead. Where it needed to go."

I'm taken aback. These words – I would never expect them to come from Alexander's mouth. Therefore, I don't find any words to say back. I stay mute, my brain frozen, still replaying his words like a broken record.

"Now tell me, what did you mean by that 'second time'?"

I feel like he slaps me back to reality with his words. I try to pull away from his hold, flinching at the words, but he doesn't let me, gripping my face even tighter. My body starts shaking. "Nothing, you probably misunderstood me," I mumble. I don't think I could tell a worse lie.

Alexander's lips curl up. "No, Little one, I definitely did not misunderstand you."

God. His accent tonight. I swear I've never heard that heavy use of accent come from him. It does wonders to me.

"It's just a boring story, Alexander, really," I tell him, desperately avoiding his eyes so he doesn't read how much I'm lying straight through my teeth.

Alexander doesn't let it drop. "Let me be the judge of that."

I start shaking my head, chuckling uncomfortably with a high voice, indicating how nervous I'm starting to get. "It's getting really late and we should probably both go to sleep. I need to babysit your sister."

Alexander growls. He's still not releasing my head. "Stop, Little one. Stop avoiding the subject. And stop bottling up the story that's clearly still haunting you. What is it?"

"Why would I tell you when you don't tell me anything?" I throw back at him.

Alexander stares at me, long and hard. And then he shakes his head. "What are you hiding from the world, Little one?" he says it so gently it throws me off guard.

I honestly want to start crying all of a sudden. I don't know why. I lower my head and look down at my white bathrobe, wrapped tightly around me. "I can't talk about it," I whisper brokenly, not daring to look at Alexander.

I'm twisting my fingers on my lap when Alexander suddenly pulls me to him and wraps his arms around my frame. I'm frozen. I'm shocked.

What's happening?

I don't move my arms, I don't move my body, I don't even breathe. Alexander just hugged me. And, man, is he doing it well.

He has one arm on my back, the other up in my hair, putting my head on his shoulder so my lips are a breathe away from his neck.

And when I overcome the shock of the situation, I realise how good it feels. How unbelievingly good it feels to get the comfort from a person, without any pressure, without hidden intentions. Well, I hope.

"I found myself in a pretty similar situation as tonight back in France." It's my moment of weakness that has me opening my mouth. I don't know why I did it. I regret it instantly. But Alexander only tightens his hold on me, showing me that he's listening. I'm afraid to say more.

I've come so far with him and I don't want to destroy it. After all this time, this wound still hurts and I'm still not ready to explain how I've got it. I let myself start crying into Alexander's shoulder, getting out the tears of everything – tonight, that night years ago, letting out all my sadness, anger, frustration and weakness, dropping it onto his shoulder.

Alexander keeps holding me in his embrace. "I can't. I'm sorry ... I can't say it out loud."

"It's okay. Shh, it's alright, Little one. Don't think about it now," Alexander coos next to my ear in understanding.

If anyone saw us like this, they'd probably think they're dreaming. I still can't comprehend what's actually happening. But I take the comfort he gives me.

I might regret this in the morning and he might be an asshole to me again, but right now, none of that matters. It only matters how good it makes me feel to feel his strong arms wrapped around me.

For the first time I came here, I actually feelsafe with Alexander.

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