AN: This chapter contains content that may be triggering to some readers. Please don't read it if you're at all unsure.

"Can I walk you to your car?" James asked. He offered her a charming smile as he held the door to the coffee shop open for her.

Chill evening air rushed at them, a stark contrast to the slightly humid air inside the little cafe and Alex instantly felt goosebumps rise all along her arms and she pulled her sweater tighter around herself. (A whiff of Emily's perfume welled up at her then – seeing as she'd stolen the sweater from her when they were still together – and the scent made her miss her all the more.)

She wasn't sure why she'd agreed to get coffee with him. She hadn't really wanted to go, hadn't really finished mourning the shattering of everything she and Emily had built together, hadn't really stopped debating calling her and begging her to take her back. But James was insistent and had promised her it wasn't a date and, for reasons she still couldn't fathom, she'd conceded that maybe it wouldn't hurt to get out of the house and get her mind off things she shouldn't be dwelling on.

"Oh, no, that's okay, I'm actually waiting for my brother to pick me up," she refuted the offer, gesturing over her shoulder vaguely. Danny had rather insisted that she wait for him to get her so she wouldn't have to be in the car alone with a stranger – she'd laughed off his concern, but now she had to admit she was rather glad for the excuse for reasons she couldn't quite articulate.

"Are you sure?" he pressed as they walked together to his car. "I can drive you home, it's really no problem."

She chewed her lip in thought, unsure why she was hesitating, but reluctant all the same. Something about the fact that he'd parked behind the cafe when there were plenty of well-lit spaces out front rankled her sense of self-preservation.

"Come on," he coaxed, holding the passenger door open for her, still wearing that same smile that seemed to her suddenly more sinister than charming. "Get in."

That feeling in the pit of her stomach didn't go away, practically screaming at her now. "I'm okay, actually – I'll just go back inside and wait, but thank you." She plastered on a smile, backing up a few steps.

His expression fell into a mask of ominous calm. "I said get in," he repeated. His tone made it extremely clear that he expected her to obey.

"James, what are you..." She didn't get the chance to finish the question before he was pushing her against the car, hand around her throat.

She struggled against his grip, attempted to cry out, but his hand tightened, leaving her gasping for air. His other hand was on her thigh, moving up under her dress.

When Alex climbed into the passenger seat of Danny's truck, she was in tears, much to her brother's consternation. She didn't greet him, didn't smile, didn't so much as look at him, simply slamming the door and waiting for him to drive away. Her motions, her expressions, were all very robotic as if she were operating on auto-pilot, simply going through the motions of existing.

"Al, did something happen?" he asked, concerned. It wasn't like her to be so disconnected, not from him.

She shook her head insistently, almost frantically. "Drive," she pleaded.

"Alex, if he..."

"Drive, Danny! Please!" she begged. She still didn't look at him, but that didn't mean he couldn't see the sheen of withheld tears sparkling in the glow of the streetlights. It didn't mean he missed the incriminating stains on her dress. It didn't mean he could ignore the angry red handprint around her neck.

This time, he obeyed, though not without a sidelong glance at his sister. He didn't remain silent for very long, though. "Alex, you're really scaring me..." he said softly lest he startle her, "Please tell me what happened."

She swallowed thickly past the lump of tears in her throat. "Nothing," she said, obviously lying.

"Al..." he coaxed gently.

"I said nothing happened!" she shouted. "Just leave me alone, okay?"

"Sorry," he mumbled – not believing her, but not about to push her.

Silence settled in the truck for a long moment. Then, her phone chimed. Trying not to be too obvious, Danny studied her reaction, watching the colour drain from her face.

"If you say anything, I'll tell everyone," the text read, "I'll fucking ruin you."

Alex sank her teeth into her bottom lip as she deleted the message. All she wanted to do was call Emily, but there was just too much at stake, too much to lose...

Alex sat on the bathroom floor, trying to decide what to do next – her head said to go to the hospital, but her churning stomach and crawling skin said to get in the shower – when her phone chimed once again.

This time, though, it was Spencer. She couldn't think of a logical reason he would be texting her at ten in the evening, but she needed a distraction, so she decided to answer.

"Did you know Emily's house has the coolest library?" the text message read. "It's full of first editions! She has Camus' The Stranger in the original French!"

Alex felt something lodge firmly in her chest, though she couldn't have said what it was. "Why are you at Emily's house?" she replied.

"She's throwing a party and Derek made me come..." he informed her. "She let me hide in the library, though, because Derek abandoned me to dance with girls." A long pause. "You should come," he urged, "I'm sure Emily would like to see you – she's been sad lately..."

"Did she tell you to text me?" she asked.

"No. Why?"

"Nevermind."

"So, are you coming?" he urged.

"I can't," she lied, "I'm busy."

Any further texts he might have sent her remained in the technological ether as she turned off her phone, unable to stomach any further questions that night.

Getting onto shaky feet, turned on the shower to let it heat up.