There we have it, the magic number. Shoutout to Sgdp1261 for being my 100th reviewer on this story - I was kind of hoping it'd be you. ;) Also thank you to Runawaybaby555 and JR who helped me get those last few reviews. Thank you for your kind words, and I realllly hope you like the chapter.
So before we get into this chapter I want to point out that action scenes are probably my weak point, so I'm sorry if this isn't worth the hype. But still, read and review, let me know what you think. This chapter was actually pretty fun to write; Mason is a total creep, which prompts the emergence of what I like to call 'Badass Spencer'. And now, here's what you've been waiting for...

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February 14th

He didn't move, but something in his eyes changed. If Spencer hadn't been running on righteous fury the darkness that came across his face would have caused her to take a step back. But she was too far gone to be scared, so she met his gaze steadily. She couldn't see it, but there was an almost matching darkness in her own eyes; hers stemmed from grief over the loss of Aria, but his was just a part of him. Darkness was his nature, and he didn't think twice about it.

"Settle, sweetheart," he said, leaning closer to her.

She forced herself not to step back, balling her hand into a fist by her side. He noticed her doing so, and it made him smile. It was the same kind of smile he'd had the night he hurt Aria, before Spencer had interrupted him. He was looking at her like she was his property, like he had every right for his eyes to be roaming all over her body like they were. It made her skin prickle.

"Back off," she spat.

"Ooh, kitty cat has claws," he crooned.

"You wanna see?" she asked, and without giving him a chance to answer she slammed her fist into his face.

He staggered backward, and then he looked up at her, his eyes alight even as his hand flew to his face to stop the blood pouring from his nose. He straightened, wiping the blood off with the back of his hand. "I like a girl with spirit," he said.

Spencer was livid. He'd been the cause of Aria's suicide, and he didn't regret it. He didn't feel the slightest shred of guilt or remorse, while she spent every day dealing with those very same feelings. And now on top of that, he was making a move on her. It made her feel sick, and when he leaned in again, his eyes flickering from her breasts to her lips, she actually thought she might throw up.

"You're a creep," she said. All the fight was draining out of her; she wasn't scared, not yet, but she wasn't interested in this conversation anymore. She turned around, suddenly needing to be anywhere but there.

He grabbed her arm, jolting both her feet and her heart to a stop. She jerked her arm out of his grip and kept walking, not daring to look back. As she darted across the road she heard footsteps behind her and knew he was following. She broke into a run and heard the footsteps speed up. As she reached the gas station across the road – it was the most public place without going back to the diner – he caught up to her, grabbing her arm and spinning her around to face him. She found herself staring into his cold eyes as he pushed her up against the wall.

"Just be quiet," he murmured. "It'll be over quick."

She was scared now.

"No," she said as he pressed his lips against hers. "No."

She wrenched her head away, shoving at his chest until he took a step backward. But he was back before she had time to take a breath. For a moment she wanted to give up, to let him do what he needed to do. Maybe then she could be with Aria.

But even as she thought that, a picture of Aria floated up in her mind. Sweet, innocent Aria. He had hurt her, and he didn't deserve to get away with it. They'd followed the right procedures, gone to the police, filed reports, and he'd gotten away with just a slap on the wrist. It wasn't right.

"Get off of me." She shoved him again, and was surprised to find that she was crying. She thought she heard someone shout her name, but when she turned her head all she could see was a stream of traffic.

He reached for her again and, unbidden, her hand flew out, connecting with his nose again. Instinctively he went to punch her, but she was just a little too quick. She ducked her head, hearing the satisfying thud as his hand hit the wall. He let out a low moan and a string of curses, and she used this distraction to slip around him and start moving away. But he wasn't letting her go that easily.

As he grabbed her shoulder she spun around and grabbed his arm, trying to drag him to the ground. He was too strong, and he ended up knocking her to the dirt; but she didn't let go, so he fell down almost on top of her. She tried to scramble away, but he straddled her and pinned her to the ground. She was crying so hard she could barely breathe, and she couldn't see anything more than blurry figures through her tears.

But she could see the glint of a knife; she didn't know where he'd gotten it, and she didn't care. All she knew was that the sight of that bright metal awakened some primal instinct in her. She took a mental step back, allowing instincts to take over. Her hands and feet moved almost of their own accord, battering him from all sides until he had no choice but to relax his hold on her. Then she bucked under him, using her body weight to throw him off her.

Without giving him time to react she straddled him, wrapping her hands around his neck. She didn't know what she was trying to do, but she knew she didn't want him to get up. But he still had the knife, and he thrust it upwards. She sucked in her stomach, the knife missed by less than an inch, and then she abandoned her grip on his neck in favor of grabbing his hands.

They fought for control of the knife, her muscles trembling with the effort of trying to overpower him. She didn't have the brute strength, but she did have the wit. She let her grip slacken, just enough to make him think she was tiring, and she used that split second advantage to gain control. He was still reaching for, and there was no time to get away. But now she had the knife, so she had the power.

She plunged it into his chest, trying not to wince as he let out an animal-like bellow. Blood spurted up beneath her hands, but she kept holding on until she saw the light fade from his eyes. Then all her strength vanished and she let herself topple sideways, collapsing on the ground as she sobbed and screamed the one word that she could clearly remember, the same word her heart was screaming.

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