I try to prepare myself for the pain that's going to shoot up my leg. Now that my adrenaline is fading away, there's nothing to numb the pain. I get up from off the tree and hobble to the park, wincing in pain. I eventually get to the park, taking a seat on a swing with a sigh. I glance down at my leg, noticing the blood dripping down it. I drop my heels on the floor and rest my head against the chain of the swing, the cool nipping at my skin. I'm all bloodied up and bruised, smelling of alcohol and in the park in the middle of the night, all alone.

Aren't I sight to see.

It's in this very moment that I feel an unbearable weight of hurt rest on my shoulders.

Courtney sold me out- for sex, might I add- to keep her facade up, the others are supposed to be my friends and I couldn't even go to them for help. And myself... I let myself get involved with people who hurt others, nevermind me, and are careless and selfish.

How much more messed up could my life and my decisions get?

The saddest part is that I'm just like them. Goodness, I'm an absolute idiot.

And now Alex is risking his reputation to come and help me at three in the morning. What a interesting scandal it would be at Ridgevale High: Alex Rosewood picks up a beaten up Sophie Cooper from the club.

If one of them see is together, it's over. Everything will go to shit. Everything we've tried so hard to keep up.

But how is it that Alex can help me and he's known me for, what, three weeks? And the people I've known for the last five years can't?

Five years. Five pointless years at that.

I was so dumb.

A memory of Geoff slamming me into the wall flashes through my mind and a tear rolls down my cheek as I feel so fucking violated.

How dare he.

I close my eyes, feeling exhaustion hit my like a bus. I just want to close my eyes, sleep and forget about what happened however, I can't exactly do that in a park. For all I know, another Geoff Lawson could be running around, and I surely don't want a repeat. After all, my dress isn't that conservative and I'm all alone. I'm the perfect target for another assault.

I shiver at that.

I'm drifting in and out of consciousness when I hear the rumble of an engine stop along the sidewalk of the park. I sit up straighter, squinting at the car, only to see Alex climbing out of it. He jogs over to me, and I take note of his appearance; besides his usual attire, he looks very awake.

"Sophie." He murmurs when he finally reaches me. I lift my head up from the chain of the swing. His hazel eyes scan my appearance and they frown in concern. "What happened to you?" He asks, crouching down to look me in the eye.

I give him a humorless smile. "Courtney sold me out," I explain tiredly "to a bouncer so that we could get VIP access."

Alex is quit for a moment, his lips pursed and his eyes taking on a deadly glint. "What do you mean she 'sold you out'?"

"She told him I'd do anything with him for an hour, and I'm sure you know what he wanted that anything to be."

Alex tenses in front of me, his jaw setting rigidly. Saying it out loud makes the whole situation seem a lot more real and I purse my lips, trying not to cry in front of him. He let's out a heavy sigh.

"C'mon." He then says. I get up from the swing and use Alex's shoulder as support before he leans down and picks up my heels for me and then suddenly picking me up bridal style. I don't focus on how warm he is and how bad I want to snuggle up to him simply because I just want to go home and clean up. He holds me effortlessly, not even struggling to put me in the passenger seat of his beautiful Audi TT. However, he knocks my leg on the side of the car and I wince.

"Shit, sorry." He apologises and I give him a tired smile.

"It's okay." I tell him.

Once I'm comfortable in the warmer car and he's started the ignition, I rest my head against his window. The silence isn't exactly uncomfortable but there is tension of unanswered questions hanging in the air.

"What happened?" He inquires and I purse my lips. I cast a glance his way, taking note of his white knuckles gripping the steering wheel. I eventually tell him, spilling every detail that comes to mind.

"That bitch." He hisses towards Courtney when I'm done. "Who was the guy?"

I purse my lips. "Geoff Lawson."

"That asshole is fucking dead." He growls out.

"You can't do anything Alex." I stress and he snaps his head to mine for a second.

"And why is that?"

I roll my eyes, irritated that he's acting so impulsively. "What if someone figures out I called you, huh? Then what?"

He scoffs. "Jeez, Sophie. You really think I care about that?"

I look out the window again muttering "you should" under my breath. We lapse back into silence and I can't help but feel goosebumps raise on my skin as I replay what happened back at the club.

"Sophie." Alex says gently, making me look at him. His features have softened considerably and I'd be lying if I said he didn't look worried. When he notices I'm watching him, he continues. "I think you should leave."

I frown. "Leave what?"

"The Elite." He answers as if it's obvious. At first I'm not sure whether he's joking or not, but when he looks at me for a brief moment and I take in his solemn expression, I can't help my mouth from dropping open. I soon after let out a humourless laugh. I get that I should leave them, after everything they've put me through, but it's not that easy. It never has been. If it was I would have done it a long time ago. All they've done is hurt me but honestly, where else can I go? The whole student body is on their side.

"It isn't that simple." I respond bluntly. He raises an eyebrow at me and I sigh heavily. "I have nowhere else to go Alex!"

"You could always come to us." He tells me calmly. My eyebrows furrow.

"Who is 'us'?" I ask with narrowed eyes.

"The Rebels."

I don't hesitate for a moment to start laughing. That idea is the most absurd thing to ever leave his lips, and that's saying a lot. What on earth makes him think that they would ever take me in? I've taken part in numerous schemes against them, I'm friends with the people who hate them, I am supposed to hate them. So what, in the entire bloody universe, makes Alex think that's even an option?

"That's a ridiculous idea."

He silently raises an eyebrow at me.

"They probably hate me, Alex. Actually there's no 'probably' in that sentence."

Alex shakes his head, lightly thrumming his fingers against the steering wheel. "You'd be surprised as to how wrong you are." He says, his voice so gentle that I'm left slightly aghast.

"And how would you know that?" I ask curiously.

"Maybe because I've spoken to them."

"Are you kidding?" I ask incredulously and he shakes his head.

"Not one bit. They don't hate you."

I purse my lips, not knowing how to feel about that. Why would they discuss me? More so, not as negatively as I thought?

"Do they know we're working together?" I ask cautiously. He nods.

"They do."

"And?" I press.

"And they aren't mad. Wary, yes, but definitely not mad."

I look away, looking at the world whir by. Why do I have a feeling that the Rebels are not as bad as Courtney has tried to make them seem? The fact that Alex says they're not mad already shows that they're a lot more understanding than I previously thought.

"What's your address?" He asks, changing the subject. I'm about to recite it to him when my eyes widen and I let out a loud groan.

"Shit." I mutter. Alex looks over at me in concern.

"What?"

"I can't go home." I say with panic while looking up at him.

"She doesn't know where you really were, does she?" He asks and I shake my head.

"My mom thinks I'm at Kelcy's." I rub my temples, hoping to relieve some of the tension although it doesn't seem to help much. Before I can say anything more, he cuts me off.

"It's okay, you can come over to my place." He says and my eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets. He misses the turn to my street and I realize how serious he is.

"I appreciate that, Alex, but what are your parents going to say?"

"They're not home." He answers bluntly. "They're on a business-family trip."

"Then why didn't you go with?" I ask cautiously, looking his way to gauge his reaction. However, I'm not quite sure how to depict his emotions because he simply looks ahead with a locked jaw, his eyebrows furrowed all the while. Maybe it's a dumb question to ask, after all we do have school but since when would that be a problem for Alex? He probably doesn't give a flying monkey's bum about school.

"I didn't want to go." He answers bluntly, a tinge of animosity lacing his voice. I don't press the topic any further, seeing that it's not one that particularly pleases him.

The rest of the drive is spent in silence and I can't help but wish it wasn't, simply because my thoughts are way too loud. I get comfortable in his seat and, for some odd reason, his personal scent of vanilla and Axe brings me a sense of comfort. I wonder why he didn't bring his motorbike instead. I didn't even know he had a car although it's not that surprising. His step father is a multimillionaire...

The only obvious reason I can think for him to bring his car is so that the Elite didn't have such a big chance of seeing us together. They don't know this car so if they saw me climb into it, I doubt they'd assume it was Alex Rosewood. But then again, if Alex really is serious about me switching over to the Rebels, why would it matter?

When his car comes to a halt, I look up to see a massive house in front of me; modernly designed and definitely expensive. It then occurs to me that Alex doesn't live too far a distance from me, maybe three roads away, four at most. After stopping his car, he climbs out and comes to my side, opening my door for me. I try to stand up on my own, only to wince and grip his arm for support. He wraps an arm around my waist to steady me and I freeze up, hating that he makes me feel giddy. He should not have this effect on me.

I let out an awkward laugh and I could've sworn I saw his lips quirk up slightly before he picks me up again. I let in a sharp breath, the bruise by my ribs pulsating from sitting. However, despite my pain, I am able to make how toned he is beneath his shirt and I almost laugh ay myself for being surprised.

It's Alex Rosewood after all.

I snuggle closer into his chest, only to gasp loudly when we enter his house. He chuckles slightly before closing the door without struggling. His house is a cream and brown theme with silver furniture breaking the contrast. It's airy, creating a feeling of space with furniture that you see in magazines. When he walks towards a grand staircase, a sparkling chandelier catches my attention and I stare at it. Although his house is very big, it feels homely and cosy; something you don't frequently find in these kind of houses.He then turns down a passage, passing numerous doors before stopping in front of one. He opens the door to reveal a spacious bathroom and he sits me down on the toilet seat.

He begins running water in the basin and I watch wordlessly as he grabs the first aid box out of the cabinet on the wall. He doesn't say anything either because, let's be real, what is there to say?

Once the basin is full, he closes it before reaching for my waist. I hold my breath at the feeling of his hands on my waist, and I try to shake it off. What is this alcohol doing to me?

He lifts me up again, setting me down on the basin and pulling out a septic wipe. He starts working on the gash on my leg which burns slightly at the contact with the wipe. However, with Alex working surprisingly gently, it doesn't hurt as much. At least it stopped bleeding.

"Ow." I hiss, feeling the ointment seep in.

"Sorry." He says softly.

"It's okay." I mumble back, knowing that's what I always seem to say to everyone, in every situation.

I watch him do the works, taking the time to study him. He looks pissed to the say the least, and I can't help but feel like it isn't directed at me. He takes another wipe, the tips of his fingers grasping my leg tightly and sending goosebumps up my arms.

He finishes treating my leg, plastering it up and moving on to my cheek. He comes closer to me, hesitantly clipping my chin and wiping away the blood on my cheek. It then occurs to me how much more intimate we are, with him standing between my legs and close enough to me that I can see his laugh lines and dusting of freckles on his nose. I cast my eyes somewhere else, avoiding his that are narrowed in thought.

I should not be thinking this way.

However, I have to admit how good Alex looks for this time of the morning. While I'm here looking like a complete mess, he looks some Greek god.

He examines my face again, looking for any other injuries while his jaw clenches and he grinds his teeth. I understand that he's mad, but why is he making it such a big deal? It doesn't involve him and it's not like it's the first time the Elite have screwed me over. Given I've never called him before, it still shouldn't make him look like he's ready to kill somebody.

He touches a small bruise on my face and I flinch.

"Sorry." He mutters again.

"Why do you keep apologising?" I ask softly. He takes another septic wipe and continues on.

"Because you deserve one after all they've put you through." He says, his voice laced with resentment, but also sadness.

"But it shouldn't be coming from you. All you've done is help me, and not because you want something out of it." I answer, a sad smile making itself onto my face.

His only response is a somewhat strained smile before he moves to
wipe my lip that's bloody from biting it so hard. When he touches it, I freeze again before relaxing. He wipes it once then begins to examine the bruise on the top of my head. He moves my hair out of the way and observes it silently.

"I'll get an icepack for that." He tells me, moving away from me and making a move to head to the door.

"Alex," I say and he pauses under the doorframe.

"Yes?"

"I have another bruise." I inform him awkwardly and his eyes scan my body as if trying to find it. After he fails to do so, he registers that it's somewhere that isn't exposed.

His eyes meet mine again. " I'll check it once you have more comfortable clothes on."

With that he leaves the room, allowing me to overthink again. Alex is so real, so rare, and I can't help but mentally kick myself for ever thinking so low of him. I just don't understand how he can care so much and my own friends don't care at all. Tears prick at my eyes and I blink rapidly to try and clear them, it only working partially. Within minutes Alex is back up with an icepack while my face has paled considerably as I try to keep my emotions at bay.

He notices my change of facial expression and stalks over to me while I look away in embarrassment. I don't want him to see me like this. However, he clips my chin and pulls my face so that my eyes meet his, gently. I feel my eyes well up again and his brown eyes hold a sense of empathy that makes the tears escape my eyes.

"Sophie." He starts, me shaking my head. I avert my eyes. "It's going to be okay. And it's okay to cry." He tells me. I guess he can see that I don't cry about this frequently because, well, I don't. I've kept these emotions bottled up and it seems as if they feel the need to escape. Right now. Whether I like it or not.

A sob rips through my throat and in one swift motion, I am cradled in his arms while I sob into his shoulder.

"I'm so tired of this." I croak. He rubs my head comfortingly.

"I know." He responds sympathetically. "But it's going to be okay. We'll figure it."

I don't point out that he said 'we' and stay in his warm and secure embrace for a little longer before pulling back. He watches me in concern as I wipe at my eyes before I eye his shirt that has glowing ink and makeup on it now.

I give a weak laugh. "I ruined your shirt."

He looks down at it, his lips stretching into a crooked smile and his pearly white teeth make an appearance. "I never really liked this shirt anyway." He jokes and I laugh, sniffling. How is he able to make me laugh in this kind of situation?

He leans over and picks up the pack of ice he brought up, handing it to me so that I can put it on the bruise on the side of my forehead.

"Thank you." I mumble, pressing the cold to my head. He watches me intently, flicking his tongue out to wet his lips.

"Are you mad?" He asks suddenly and my eyebrows draw together. "At the Elite, I mean."

I swallow hard, not having to think long and hard about my answer. "I'm used to it but yeah, of course I am. I trusted them and Courtney set me up for sexual assault. Who does that?" I answer plainly. His eyes look back at me with a dark look to them which makes an involuntary shiver rack my body.

"They're not going to get away with it this time. Trust me."

I frown, dropping the ice pack into my lap as he begins packing up the first aid kit. "What are you planning to do?" I ask although he doesn't bother to answer. "Alex."

He stops putting the box back in the cupboard. "Just... trust me." He says and although it's such a simple sentence, it holds such a heavy weight.

Trust me.

I don't know when last I truly trusted someone so him asking me that renders me speechless.

"Thank you Alex. Really, thank you." I say sincerely and he gives me a small smile in response before walking back to me and lifting me up off of the basin. "Are you serious about the Rebel thing?" I ask while we're pressed together. He looks down at me, leaning his hands on the basin by my sides.

"Yes." He answers before leaning back slightly and taking his intoxicating scent away with him.
"You'll be able to walk better now, still with a limp but better." He informs me, helping me balance. I nod.

"Thank you,"

He nods in response before wrapping an arm around my waist and helping me leave the bathroom. "Where to?" I ask while glancing at the numerous doors.

"This way." He guides me to a door before pushing it open to reveal a predominantly white room. He guides me to the bed covered in white sheets, and I take a seat. He pulls open one of the cupboards and hands me a large t-shirt and boxers afterwards. I take them gratefully, the soft material making my body scream in protest against the sticky dress I'm currently in.

"Here, they're my smaller clothes. They'll probably be a bit big but-"

"That's okay." I cut him off with a smile. "Thank you."

He nods curtly before leaving the room to let me change.

I sigh once he leaves the room, gazing at the clothes he handed me. Who would have ever though I would be in Alex's house, all beaten up and now in his clothes?

After changing into the clean clothes and putting my dirty ones in a neat pile on the floor in the corner, I throw my- disgusting- hair up into a bun. I catch sight of the wall length mirror and head towards it, grimacing when I take notice of how I look. However, I try to ignore it and lift the baggy shirt-which comes up to my mid-thigh- up to examine the bruise by my ribs. It's an ugly blue, purple around it too, and I sigh, dropping the shirt. I tighten the drawstrings of the boxers, afraid they're going to drop to the floor if I don't.

It's then that I hear a knock on the door and I grant Alex access. When he returns, he comes along with a bottle of water and an aspirin. He eyes me carefully, and agonizingly slow, before meeting my eyes. I switch my weight from one foot to another.

"They look good on you." He almost smirks, handing me the water at the same time. I smile weakly, trying to suppress a blush.

"Thanks." I say, referring more to the water. I take a seat back on the bed and take the tablet, hoping it will also help ease my headache. I finish the water in a few gulps, parched from the long night. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, only to see Alex staring directly at me with a blank stare.

"Where's the other bruise?" He asks warily and I purse my lips, putting the bottle on the bedside table and slowly lifting my shirt. When he sees the blue mark, his eyes darken considerably and he crouches down to my level, eyeing my skin. He lifts his hands, his fingertips brushing the skin ever so slightly and making me hold my breath.

"What the fuck did he hit you with?" Alex asks, looking up at me briefly.

"His fist." I answer blandly.

He then drops his hands and stands up again, a whiff of his clone coming my way. I let the shirt fall down again and watch him carefully.

"You can put an icepack there if you want because it will probably take a while to heal."

I shake my head. "That's okay, thank you."

He nods with his lips pressed in a firm line.

"Well, I'm going to let you rest. My room is just next door if you need anything." He smiles tiredly and I return the gesture.

"Thank you. Again."

He smiles softly before quietly leaving the room. I climb into the sheets, my sleep-deprived body screaming for satisfaction. It felt so nice to finally cry to someone. Someone I could trust. Someone who was actually really there for me. Someone who genuinely cared. I close my eyes with a soft smile and let sleep take over me.