Oliver awoke to the sound of banging on his door.

"Oliver Hogarth! Open this door right now!"

Oliver blinked sleepily. He must be dreaming; there was no way that Alicia Martinez was knocking on his door. She hated him. Still, he wasn't opposed to seeing more of dream Alicia — even if she was shouting at him — so he rolled over and buried his face in the pillow.

More pounding. "For god's sake, Oliver, open up!"

Hang on.

Oliver raised his head, squinting at the door. No, this was definitely happening in real life. What the hell was going on? He pulled on a pair of grey trackies and a white tee-shirt, stumbling towards the door.

Alicia was waiting on the other side.

"We're in the tabloids," Alicia blurted. "Someone must have tipped off a photographer, that night at the observatory." She barged into the suite. "It's really grainy, but my name's in the article, which means that Greg will have seen it, and I'm meant to be caddying today so I can't even leave and—"

"Woah, woah, slow down," Oliver said. "Take a deep breath." He steered her to a stool by the counter. "Tell me again. But slowly."

She did.

Oliver filled up two cups of water as she spoke. By the time Alicia had finished, Oliver was gripping his glass so tightly that he thought he might break it. How the hell had a photographer known where to find them?

"Who tipped the bastard off?"

He wracked his brains. There were only a few options: Hattie, Antony or Brooks. None of which sat particularly well with him. Alicia shrugged.

"I don't know," she said. "Does it matter?" Her leg was jiggling. "Greg will be on his way already. I know he will."

"I don't understand." Oliver frowned. "I thought you and Greg broke up."

Alicia stared down at the glass of water in her hand. "I wasn't entirely honest with you earlier about Greg." She set it on the counter. "Remember when I said that he was popular? And you assumed that's why I hated the spotlight?"

"Yeah."

"Well, that's not all of it." Alicia pushed up a bead of condensation on the glass. "After the break-up, Greg kept looking for me. He would wait outside of our house at night, or outside of my classes. I started doing all of my tutorials online, so he switched to calling all of my friends and harassing them. And then my Mum. Eventually, I agreed to meet with Greg just to put a stop to it, and he said..." Her voice cracked. "He told me that if I tried to leave him, he would hurt me. Or someone that I loved. He mentioned Tess, specifically."

Oliver felt sick. "Leese..."

"Anyway, I shut down all of my social media accounts so that he couldn't find me here." She swallowed. "He's convinced that I can fall in love with him again. That I'm in some sort of denial."

"I tried getting a restraining order, at first." Alicia picked at a spot on the counter. "I found a solicitor and everything. But then Greg and his family fought back, and I had to go to court to give testimony of the abuse, and I just..." Her jaw wobbled. "I couldn't face him, Ollie. I wasn't strong enough."

"So here I am," Alicia said. "Hiding in some small town in Scotland. Looking over my shoulder at every turn." She laughed, but there was no humour in it. "You must think I'm the biggest coward in the world."

Oliver's heart was racing.

God, he wanted to hug her. She looked so small and fragile sitting on that stool, her arms wrapped around herself. But he didn't dare move, didn't dare do anything that would startle her. Not after what she just told him.

He was going to kill Greg.

Kill him, and then string his body parts up as Christmas tree decorations.

"Alicia," Oliver said, working to keep his voice even, "look at me." She did so. "I think you're the bravest person that I know. Nobody should have to carry all of that fear around with them all the time. The fact that you do it every day is a god damn miracle."

She looked startled. "You don't think less of me?"

"No. I think more of you."

"Okay." She let out a shaky breath. "Okay. Thank you."

"Let's leave town." Oliver glanced at the car keys. "Brooks and I can take you somewhere safe. A secure location in Dundee, or something."

"I can't drop out now!" Her voice shot up again. "Antony would be disqualified. I have to go out there."

"Maybe Greg hasn't seen the picture."

"He's seen it," she said hoarsely. "Trust me."

Oliver cursed colorfully in his head. It went against every fibre of his being to leave Alicia in danger, but he knew this girl; she wasn't going anywhere that she didn't want to be. Dragging Alicia out of town would be about as easy as pushing a house-sized boulder up a hill — with one arm chopped off.

"Alright." Oliver rubbed at the back of his neck. "Here's what we're going to do; you go out there and caddy as planned, okay? I'll take Brooks and go speak with security. If Greg tries to gain access to the grounds, they'll keep him out."

She deflated. "Thank-you."

"Don't thank me." The words tasted like iron. "Please."

This was all his fault. God, Oliver felt like the worst sort of beast; she had told him repeatedly that she never wanted to be in the spotlight, and he had willfully ignored her. And now Alicia was in danger.

All thanks to him.

Oliver felt a wave of fierce protectiveness hit him, unlike anything he'd ever known before, and he took a step closer. "I meant it when I said that I'd keep you safe, Alicia." He wrapped his arms around her. "I won't let him hurt you again."

"I already told you," she whispered. "You can't guarantee that."

His mouth twisted into a grim line. "Watch me."

Oliver didn't waste any time.

After Alicia left, he went straight to Brooks' room, knocking on the door. Brooks opened it immediately. He was already dressed in a pair of black jeans and a leather jacket, and his bed was neatly dog-eared at the corner. Oliver took a breath.

"Alicia—"

"I heard all of it." Brooks paused. "Sorry. It's in my job description to eavesdrop."

Oliver supposed he should be irritated, but actually, he was relieved that he didn't have to explain it all. He slumped against the doorway. "Do you know anyone working security at the tournament?"

"I have a mate in surveillance," Brooks said. "He can check the video footage for Greg, but he won't be able to get us on to the course." He grabbed his gun, securing it to his holster. "Do you want to go down there now?"

"Not yet." Oliver pressed his lips together. "There's something I have to do first."

He took the two flights of stairs down to a slightly larger suite, banging on the door. A moment later, Rory emerged, rubbing blearily at his eyes. He paused.

"Ollie."

Rory sounded surprised. Oliver didn't blame him; he hadn't exactly been the most congenial of companions after the boys accidentally outed him to Alicia. In fact, Oliver had spent the last three days moping in his room, eating ice cream, re-watching One Tree Hill and ignoring all of Rory's text messages about going sightseeing.

But he needed them now.

"Wake the others," Oliver said hoarsely. "It's important."

Five minutes later, Theo, Max, and Rory were all gathered in the living room in various states of undress. He could hear Brooks outside the door, conversing with their security detail in a low voice. Oliver paced about the room, trying to hold on to the remaining shreds of his sanity.

Rory took a sip of coffee. "Well? Spit it out, then."

Oliver did so. He told them about Alicia and Greg, leaving out the more personal details she had shared, and then about the tabloid. He told them about Alicia coming to his room. The fact that she was caddying today and refused to leave town. By the time he finished, all three boys were staring at him.

"Wow." Theo collapsed back on to the sofa. "Holy shit, bro."

Max snapped his fingers. "My thoughts exactly."

"You have to tell the police," Rory said immediately. "Call them. Right now."

"And say what?" Oliver yanked back the curtain. "Greg hasn't actually done anything yet. Besides, we don't even know if he's here."

"Still."

"We have to do something." Theo munched on an apple. "What if we faked an alien invasion and got the tournament called off?"

The other three boys exchanged a look.

"I have a plan," Oliver said, ignoring Theo. "But I need your help."

"Anything," Rory said. "Obviously."

Max nodded, too.

Oliver let the curtain drop. "Thank-you," he said quietly. "I mean that. I know I haven't been..." He hesitated. "I've been distant lately, since the Ella thing, but I do love you idiots. You know that, right?"

Rory pulled a face. "You're not getting soppy on us, are you?"

"Oh, sod off, Ror."

Oliver shot him a rude gesture, and Rory grinned. He resumed his pacing.

"Right," Oliver said. "Theo, I need you to track down the photographer. The one that took that photo. If Greg hasn't seen it yet, then I want to make sure other newspapers don't get a hold of it. I don't care if you bribe or threaten him; just get it done."

Theo nodded. "Kick the dude's face in. Got it."

"Max," Oliver continued, "I need you to come with me. You're good at charming people; I need you to convince security to let us right near the course." He paused. "Er. So long as you're willing, that is."

He scratched his neck awkwardly. He and Max weren't exactly best mates these days; he wouldn't blame him if he said no. But Max surprised him by crossing the room and clapping him on the shoulder.

"Whatever you need, Ollie."

Oliver's throat felt a little tight. He decided to blame the dusty curtains. "And Rory," he said, turning to face him, "I need you to—"

"Find Hattie," Brooks finished.

The bodyguard strode through the door, his face a grim mask of determination. Oliver nodded; that was exactly what he had been thinking, too. Although he sensed that he didn't feel quite as strongly about it as Brooks did. His bodyguard looked ready to kick a door in.

"Er, question." Rory raised a hand. "Who's Hattie?"

"She's the best person in the world," Brooks growled. "And she's also Alicia's mate, so it's likely that Greg will try and contact her. Since I legally have to stay with Oliver, I'm leaving it up to you and your security to make sure that she's safe." He put a hand on his gun. "Don't make me regret it."

Rory swallowed. "Duly noted."

Oliver scooped up his coat. "Everyone know what they're doing?" Four heads bobbed their assent. He blew out a breath. "Good. Let's get to it, then."

Alicia was gripping the golf club so tightly she thought it might snap.

Polite applause echoed across the green, sweeping under the Swilican bridge and settling in the sand traps. She glanced nervously at the stands. How many people were up there? Two thousand? More? It hadn't been nearly this full when they teed off this morning.

She swallowed.

They were on the eighteenth hole of the course now. One last hole, and then it was done. She glanced over at Antony, who was sizing up his next shot. He was three under — not bad, for the conditions — and in the lead out of their little foursome.

"What do you think?" he muttered. "A seven iron?"

"A six, I reckon."

She glanced up at the sky. The black clouds were threatening rain, crackling with an invisible electricity. She had the sudden sensation of being trapped inside of a dryer, an itchy wool sweater watching helplessly as the electrostatic charge built up.

"Alicia?"

She turned. Antony was looking at her oddly. It took her a moment to realize that he must have said her name several times already.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine."

"What a load of crap." Antony's voice was gentle, though. "Look, don't let the pressure get to you, alright? You've done a great job."

"Thanks."

She scanned the stands. Most of the faces were too far to make out, but she couldn't see Greg anywhere. She relaxed slightly. Maybe she had been panicking for nothing. Maybe Oliver was right and Greg really hadn't seen the article.

Her eyes caught on a familiar brunette head.

Oliver gave her a tentative smile. He was leaning against the fence, wearing a jean jacket the exact shade of his eyes. Even now, Alicia couldn't stop her stomach from flipping over. From her breath catching slightly.

You okay? he mouthed.

She nodded.

Antony stepped up to the ball. The commentator's voice boomed out over head. "McIntosh to take his shot. Silence, please."

There was a long pause, followed by a sharp thump.

Alicia frowned. For a moment, she thought Antony had hit the ball, but no; it was still sitting on the grass, exactly where he had left it. So what...?

She followed the noise.

A fence had been kicked open. And there, striding across the course, was a scene directly from her most hideous nightmares.

Greg.

A/N: We've reached the climax of the story!

If you've made it this far in the novel, then thank you! Your comments and votes really do mean the world to me. I'm so blown away that people are reading this, and I can't say how much I appreciate it. You guys rock.

Affectionately,

J.K.

p.s. If you're still reading my rambling author's notes at this point, then I'm impressed ;)