Chapter 1

Spencer paced around her kitchen. The deadline was in an hour. The clock on the stove ticked to 6:01. 59 minutes. Her breaths were quick and sharp, her heart was racing and pounding as if it wanted to jump out of her chest. 58 minutes and she still hadn't decided what she was going to do. She looked at the text again.

Show up where it happened at 7:00

Friday night or Toby's fate will be the same.

Kisses! -A

It was sent to her three days ago. Spencer quicklly figured out that A was talking about Alison and where she was buried alive. The text made her nervous. She had to go; she needed to keep Toby safe. But what would happen to her? Yesterday, she was with Toby at his apartment and all she could think about was A and the text. And Toby, being who he is, notoced how distant she was.

"What's wrong, Spence?" he asked.

"What? Oh nothing," she sighed.

Toby turned to her and grasped her hands. "Spencer, I know you. What's on your mind?"

"I got this text yesterday," she showed it to him. She watched as he read it and realization and fear crossed his handsome features.

"Spence..." he trailed off.

"I know what you're going to say, but Toby I have to go. A will kill you, and I can't lose you," she cried.

"I can't lose you either, Spence. I want you to stay safe. I need you to safe," he kissed her soflty and Spencer's heart fluttered. "Spencer, you can't go. I can't lose you. You know as well as I what A is capable of. You know they'll hurt you."

Spencer sighed. She knew Toby was right, but there was still a sinking feeling in her stomach. She was afraid of what A would do to Toby.

Now as she was looking at the text again, her hands shook. A was not known for bluffing and showing mercy; A meant what they said about Toby. He promised her that he would watch out and stay safe, but her fear sliced her like a knife. Her house was freezing; she was freezing even though she had already turned up the thermostat twice. The chill was inside her. She couldn't go, she had promised Toby she wouldn't. But the anticipation was killing her. She made herself a sandwich, she cleaned the counter. Don't look at the clock, don't look at the clock, don't look at the clock. The sandwich sat uneaten. She cleaned the counter again. Don't look at the clock.

She looked. 6:40.

She took out her History textbook and ran her hand across the binding. She put it back. 6:43.

She went to ther bathroom, then washed her hands throughly over and over again as if the scalding water was her lifeline, the only thing that would keep her from leaving. 6:50.

She grabbed her phone, tied her combat boots with trembling hands, then slipped on her coat. 6:55.

Spencer walked to the backyard of the Dilaurentis house. The air was cold and sharp, each breath she took burned her nose and her throat. Her breath formed a frigid cloud in front of her. The quietness was eerie; the only sounds were her footsteps crunching on the frozen grass, and the beating of her heart. The DiLaurentis house was dark and so was hers. No one would be here to hear her scream, she thought. She looked at her watch, it read 6:58. Spencer looked around there was no one to be seen.

She heard a crack and spun to see who it was, but there was no one. A chill ran down her spine, but not because of the clod. She looked at her watch again: 7:00.

Someone grabbed her from behind, covering her mouth with a black-gloved hands. She thrashed, trying to get a glimpse of her attacker. She felt something sharp pierce her right arm, right under her shoulder. It slid down her arm to her elbow as she screamed with anguish, but the hand muffled her voice. She tried to keep her head. The attacker was strong, they only needed one hand to cover her mouth. It must be a guy, she thought. He pushed her down, her chin smacked the hard dirt and spots danced around her vision. She didn't know what was going on, he was-tying up her hands maybe? She was too disoriented with pain. She tried thinking straight-was he taller or shorter than her? She didn't know. Her mind was focused on the pain of her arm; her attacker was jerking it backwards. She screamed, the pain was too intense. Stars clouded her vision once again. She couldn't breathe. A truck's engine pulled up and stopped, but she didn't hear it.

"Spencer!" a voice yelled. It was Toby.

He grabbed her attacker off of Spencer with a grunt and threw him down. She heard fists contacting skin, but she was too weak to get up. The fight went on for what seemed like an eternity, but really was only a few minutes. She was feeling weak from blood loss, and getting the wind knocked out of her. Footsteps quickly retreated into the background and strong, gentle hands pulled her up. She stumbled with lightheadedness and leaned against Toby's strong chest.

"Spencer, you're losing a lot of blood. We need to take you to a hospital!" he exclaimed.

"No," Spencer gasped, "take me to my house. Please, Toby."

He picked her up, being careful about her arm, and they walked to her house. He set her downon the kitchen counter. Her head was pounding, her arm was throbbing, and her wholebody was shaking. She saw Toby frantically opening and closing doors.

"What are you looking for?" she asked.

"First Aid kit," he answered shortly.

"In the bathroom down the hall. First drawer on the left," she gasped.

Spencer heard clanking in the bathroom as Toby looked for the kit. She closed her eyes and took a deep inhale and exhale as she rose to sit up. She felt nauseous as a head rush waved over her. Spencer glanced at her arm, and with a shaking hand touched the cut. She cried in anguish, tears spilling out of her stinging eyes.

Toby ran to her and took her arm gently in his hand. He slipped off her coat, making Spencer wince. Then, he cut off the arm of her sweater, reavealing the cut.

Spencer gagged. Blood oozed from the wound, it looked deep, but she didn't think that she'd need stitches; at least she hoped she wouldn't.

Toby cleaned her cut with cool water, then raised her arm up and wrapped gauze around the cut. She admired how good and calm he was being. She could still see traces of fear, but he was still composed.

"I learned how to do this at work. There's a lot of accidents in construction. We all had to get First Aid certified," he said. Spencer knew he was talking to get her mind off the pain, and she was grateful.

After Toby had wrapped the cut, he pulled her into a hug and kissed her soft hair. Spencer watched as his composure dropped.

"Spencer, I almost lost you. I told you not to go. And now you're hurt; oh Spence..."

She cried into his shoulder, "I'm sorry Toby. I'm so sorry."

"Shh...it's ok. Im here, you're safe. It's ok," he soothed her. "Spencer, I have to take you to the hospital."

"No, you can't. How would I explain this? With the hospital, and my parents asking questions, it would be so easy for A to find a way to turn this against me," she said.

"Spence, if you need stitches-"

"Toby please, she begged with fear in her eyes.

Toby sighed. There was no use arguing with her.

"Toby, I can't stay here. Can I come home with you?" she asked.

Toby kissed her, "Of course, I wouldn't leave you alone."