*Trigger warning. Please note that this chapter contains themes that may be upsetting for some readers. Take this into consideration before reading*

I awoke laying face down on a cold, hard slab of cement. Every square inch of my body ached, from the tips of my toes all the way to the roots of my hair, and even though I was awake, the thought of opening my eyes made me wince.

My clothes felt wet and sticky, and I noted in my semi-conscious state that I was no longer wearing one shoe.

What is going on?

After a few moments of internal struggling I found the willpower to open one eye slowly, trying not the cringe as it stung and watered. My vision was fuzzy and marred like I had just rubbed my eyes too hard, and I blinked rapidly. The first thing I saw when my vision cleared was some kind of makeshift bed directly opposite me. It was comprised of an inch-tall blue mattress, a thin green sleeping bag and a black pillow.

I wondered briefly whether I was dreaming or hallucinating—because what the fuck—but somehow I figured that my head would not be pounding so loudly and painfully if I was. Slowly, so slowly, I rolled onto my back, tears stinging my eyes as a jolt of red hot pain flashed down my spine. My teeth bit into my tongue as I tried not to cry out in agony. Releasing the breath I'd been holding, I stared above me at a high ceiling filled with steel beams and frames. Where the hell was I? To my left there was a line of machinery— cherry pickers, forklifts and other construction equipment.

From what I could gather it looked like some kind of warehouse or factory, but the bed in the corner confused me.

The sight of the vehicles suddenly made my breath hitch in my throat as memories of the accident hit me like a tonne of bricks.

The racing car, the headlights, the blackness.

This time I couldn't stop the whine that escaped my throat as I breathlessly struggled to sit up. Every nerve in my body sent waves of pain to my brain, and I had never been more overwhelmed by my senses than in that moment.

My eyes skirted around for an exit sign or door, but came up blank.

"Look who's finally awake. You had me worried for a moment there." The voice that appeared to my left made me jump, and my neck swung violently to see whom it belonged to. Fear paralysed me and temporarily made me forget the agony of the motion as I squinted through the darkness, trying to catch a clearer picture of the shape hidden in the shadows and out of sight.

I opened my mouth to speak, but razor blades slashed the inside of my oesophagus and all that came out was a raspy squeak.

"Your throat must be parched, don't try and speak." Came the reply.

Recognition tore across my memory, but I couldn't quite figure out how I knew the voice.

"What am I doing here? Who are you?" I asked after a moment, my voice no louder than a whisper.

There was a sigh from across the room, and then footsteps. "See this is the problem with you celebrities— so self-involved. Too caught up in all your little dramas to notice other people. But that's okay, true love is unconditional, and it's just one of the things I've learned to love about you I suppose." The phrase was stated matter-of-factly, in the same way that a man who had been married to a woman for thirty years would good-naturedly scold her bad habits.

I stared into the warehouse uncomprehendingly. Though my ringing ears were listening to everything being said, my brain wouldn't process a word of it. I sat dumbfounded, barely able to focus through the deafening pounding of my head.

"Still no guesses?" The voice taunted.

Silence, and then laughter.

"Alright alright I'll bite." The person cleared their throat as if they were about to give a presentation to a panel of investors, and I could sense the mocking tone in their voice the moment they spoke. "Gee Savannah, it sure is tough being the new kid. Football is my dream and my family thinks I'm a loser. Wah wah wah."

The truth hit me like a freight train, knocking the breath out of my lungs so forcefully that if I'd been standing, I would have doubled over.

No.

"Travis?" I croaked, resting my palms on the ground for support. There was no way. It couldn't be.

"Ding ding ding! Seems you're not so shallow after all." The person appeared directly in front of me, his handsome face decorated with a devilish smile and the unmistakable hue of gleaming blue eyes. Dried blood gleamed on his neck and chin. "Hi Sav, it's been a while."

I stared in open-mouthed shock, but Travis seemed completed unfazed by my reaction and started to pace back and forth. "Of course, it hasn't been that long for me. You spoke to me yesterday." His grin widened as he paused and looked down at me. "I vaguely remember you telling me that I had won. And I love to win."

If I hadn't been about to pass out before, I was certain that I was going to now. Black splotches interrupted my vision as my mind connected the dots in front of me.

"You were the one who did that to Brooks?" I choked, forcing myself to stay conscious. The guy was clearly a lunatic, but somehow I knew that going back to sleep wasn't going to lead to pleasantries for me.

Travis nodded proudly. "It went much better than I anticipated actually." He informed me with delight that made me want to scream. "I loosened the infrastructure and planted the camera there on a timer knowing that you would see the flash, but the lightning from the storm almost ruined everything. I was quite glad that my plan still worked, and the storm ended up adding quite the theatrical element if I do say so myself. Not to brag."

"How did you know that I wouldn't have climbed up to get it instead of Brooks? Then I would be in the hospital right now." Judging from the way I felt, I probably should have been anyway. As if on cue, pain ripped through my torso, making me gasp as I wondered if my ribs were broken.

Travis smiled delicately, and when the pain subsided I couldn't help but think that his boyish features would have been attractive had they not been tainted by psychopathic tendencies. "I didn't— it was just a risk I had to take for us. And I said, it worked out even better than I'd expected."

My vision started to clear, but now it was replaced by the curdle of bile in my stomach. "And it was you, sending me the photos."

Travis knelt down in front of me, and I flinched away from him. How could he have gone to school with me and I never saw the true him? I was a good actor, but Travis posing as a sweet high schooler gave me a run for my money. "Of course," he answered honestly, "it was more than easy to poke around in your little boyfriend's past and find out what had happened between him and the other girl— Demi. It seemed almost too convenient to have you both blaming her brother for the photos." His voice was amused, as if he were proud of how well his plan had come together.

But then a gruesome thought hit me. What was the plan? He'd stalked me for months, put Brooks in the hospital, rammed me with his car and now had me here hostage. But for what? I shuddered involuntarily.

"Why?" I forced the word out, trying not to notice the bitter taste it left in my mouth. Don't throw up don't throw up don't throw up.

Travis' eyes became tender, and he reached forward to capture my chin between his thumb and forefinger. I tried to tear my face away as I seethed hatred, but he clamped down harder, sending an ache along my jaw. "Isn't it obvious?" He murmured, inspecting my face like he was memorising it. His eyes pierced into mine, and despite my desire to not give him even a hint of what he wanted, I could not look away.

"I'm in love with you, Savannah. I always have been."

He let go of my face at the same time that my stomach decided it could no longer handle its contents, and I turned away as I retched and heaved, bringing up the little amount of liquid I'd consumed in the last twenty four hours.

"You've known me for a few weeks." I argued as I spat bile onto the floor, all regard for dignity having flown out the window.

Travis' mouth twitched in amusement, and he stood up to pace again. My eyes trailed him with loathing, and I could not wait to sink my claws into him. No matter how this day ended, I would not go down without a fight.

"See that's where you're wrong, Savvy. I must admit I'm a little offended that you don't remember our last rendezvous, although I can't be angry with you when that is my own doing." I continued to watch him walk, my mind reeling with confusion and exhaustion and that damn headache. He met my gaze with a searching expression, and he frowned when he didn't find what he was looking for.

"You were wearing this tiny little red dress and beige heels and man," He groaned, letting his head fall back and his eyes close, "were you hot. I couldn't stop staring at you all night— no one could." His eyes were alight with crazed lust and desire that made me tremble on the spot. "I wanted you so badly, but who was I? A nobody in a sea of nobodies in LA. And you... you were Savannah Silvers. Wild, sexy, gorgeous Savannah Silvers, dressed up just for me."

I didn't need to try very hard to recall the outfit he meant and the night he was talking about. But my mind fought against the revelation, because no. It couldn't have been then...

"I knew you'd never glance my way in a million years when you had men like Andrew Dillon at your beck and call." His features darkened, and Travis jammed a bloody hand through his hair. "I saw you hooking up with so many douchebags, but you never went home with them. I thought you were smart and knew that they were wrong for you." His blue eyes flashed with something terrifyingly unreadable. "But then one night you did go home with one of them. And I watched through the window as he had his way with you and then left you in the morning like you were nothing."

Oh god. Travis had been stalking me for over a year. I doubled over again, vomiting up nothing as hot tears streamed down my cheeks and I clutched my injured ribcage.

"I knew that I had to save you from yourself and I had to find another way for us to begin." We both froze, and somehow I knew what was coming. "I didn't mean to give you so much of it. I slipped scopolamine into your drink that night at the party when you weren't looking, thinking it'd knock you out just long enough to take you home with me and convince you that it was a good idea. One of the party goers was kind enough to leave the keys to his Ferrari in reach, and I figured I needed the best chariot for my princess." He smiled at me as if he were my Prince Charming, and I sneered at him ferociously in response.

"Unfortunately I only made it a few blocks before I heard sirens, so I had to stage an accident to make it look like you had embarked on a drug hazed joyride gone wrong." Travis' lips twisted into a frown, and he walked towards me, ignoring my flinch, to push my hair delicately off my face. When he retracted his hand, his fingers came away red. "I am sorry about that, by the way. I didn't mean for you to get kicked off your show, but I did what I had to do to save our happily ever after. So that we could find each other. I did it for our love Savannah."

All of this time, all of these months, I had lived in guilt and shame and self-hatred, believing myself to be an out of control party girl like the media wanted me to be. The rumours, leaving the show, forcing myself on the McCormacks', I had tried so hard to convince myself that I could be a better person. And all along it had been him. White hot resentment bubbled up in my throat, and I found my vision tinging red as I focussed all of my attention on the boy in front of me.

My chest heaved. "You make me sick, you despicable piece of—" I never completed my sentence, because one second I was on the hard stone floor of the warehouse, and the next I was being slammed up against the wall, fingers constricting my throat.

Travis' face was inches from mine, so close that I could see the sweat beading on his forehead and neck. His eyes lingered on my lips, and he stroked my hair with the hand that wasn't around my throat. "True love is blind." He whispered, his breath fanning across my face and making me squirm. "We're perfect for each other. And if you hadn't gone and tried to play happy families with the McCormack tool, you would have seen that much sooner."

"That's... why you... hurt Brooks?" I stuttered, my eyes rolling back as I used the little oxygen I had left. Travis' hand loosened the slightest amount, and I wheezed in the stale air, my lungs expanding painfully.

"I tried to win you over the right way, I really did. I started school, became friends with you, tried to ask you to the dance." He snorted. "I even offered to take your pathetic friends home after their tragic football practice. But then I saw you two, sitting on the sofa, and you were so close to kissing and I-" Travis cursed, his fist smashing into the plaster wall beside my head. I flinched away from him as he narrowly missed my head, and when he pulled his hand back, his knuckles dribbled blood onto the floor. Slowly, he took a few steadying breaths, and his shoulders relaxed as he stared at the ground, seeming hypnotised by the droplets of blood he'd shed.

"I knew I needed to get him out of the picture if we were going to be together. You were tainted by a romanticized idea of childhood puppy love with McCormack and I couldn't compete with that, so I hatched the treehouse plan. But then my message made you think I wanted you to leave and Savannah, baby, I never wanted that. You weren't supposed to go to Florida, you were supposed to leave him for me so we could be happy. It hurts me that you wanted to leave me."

I wanted to ask in what world would I ever choose Travis over Brooks, but I knew it would not help. Plus, the looming threat of asphyxiation still hung over me like a sad dark cloud. I was physically and emotionally exhausted, and my chin dropped to my chest before Travis grabbed my face, forcing me to look at him. Resolve fizzled out of my body like water evaporating from a pavement in the Summer, and I decided to forgive myself for not being able to hold up the promise to myself that I would fight. I had no strength to fight with, and the darkness kept threatening to take over. No one knew where I was or who I was with, and the prospect of Travis releasing me was impossible. A short, humorless laugh escaped my lips.

"All of this, just to be with me?" I heaved, my voice sounding broken and small even to my own ears.

Travis just smiled at me, tracing his rough fingers over the contours of my face. "Don't you know by now? That I would do anything for you?" He leaned closer, his lips against my ear. "I'd kill for you."

The fact that he thought that was a romantic notion made my knees buckle.

"There is one thing I've been dying to do since I got you here though." He pressed his body flat against mine, licking his lips as his gaze zeroed in on my mouth. "Well, more than one thing." He corrected, "But this is a start." Dread formed like an icy cold knot in my chest. I whimpered, and for a split second I thought I was going to be sick again. I turned my chin away.

Travis chuckled, and before I could take a breath his tongue had wedged its way between my lips, forcing them open. His hands roamed my body and he groaned, pressing himself impossibly closer to me as his tongue explored my mouth. I opened my mouth wider, which he took as encouragement, only to slam my teeth shut on his tongue a second later. Travis' blood sprayed across my face and into my mouth, and I spat it out in disgust. Immediately, he reached up and slapped me so hard across the face that my head whipped to the side and I crumpled heavily to the floor.

"You bitch!"

My cheek prickled with heat, and I could tell that my eye was going to be black tomorrow, but even still I smirked with pride. Maybe I did have some fight left in me after all.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, glaring at me. "That wasn't nice, Miss Silvers, and you'll pay for that. But for now—" he broke off mid-sentence, distracted by the slightest of sounds from across the room. We both turned to see what had caused the noise, and my heart pounded furiously in my chest as, for the first time all day, I allowed myself to water a seed of hope.

Travis turned back to me, a fire ablaze behind his eyes that confirmed he wasn't expecting company. "We need to get out of here, my love. Now."

"I wouldn't, if I were you." The voice that rang out across the open space sent shivers down my spine and I had to hold back a sob. I would recognize that voice anywhere.

My breath caught in my chest as fear and adrenaline raced through me, waking me up. Travis shifted, and dread raced through me as he pulled out a clunky object from his back pocket. My face went white. Was that a..? Oh god, it was a gun. With his free hand he leaned down and grabbed my hair, dragging me to my feet. A scream died on my lips at the agonising pain spreading through my skull and I felt on the verge of a panic attack, but this time my terror had nothing to do with my own safety.

"Well well well, why am I not surprised to see you here. You always did have a knack for getting in my way. I'm surprised you're even walking after your unfortunate accident." Travis snarled with distaste.

Brooks strode confidently across the space, appearing as cool and collected as ever. When we locked eyes though, I saw the turbulence there that revealed he was no where near as calm as he wanted to appear. I trailed my eyes over him, taking in the stitches and green bruises on his face and the glimpse of a cast on his arm. He was wearing a long sleeved hoodie and jeans, which meant that I could not survey the rest of his body for injuries properly— a tactic which I'm sure was not unintentional.

"Brooks, run!" I pleaded, but another sharp tug on my hair broke my words in half. I watched soundlessly as multiple strands of dark hair floated to the ground. When I glanced up, Brooks' eyes were burning, the flames there barely contained.

"Let her go, Travis." He commanded in that same soothingly calm voice. His gaze never left mine the entire time he spoke, and I found myself clinging to those beautiful eyes for dear life, in case it was the last time I saw them. I knew that his quick gaze had not missed the object in Travis' hand, but he did not acknowledge it in any way.

"No. We're made for each other. I love her and she loves me."

This guy was abso-fucking-lutely delusional, I thought, and then the fact that I had just thought that almost made me laugh out loud, and I realized that I too was delusional.

"Look at her Travis." Brooks urged gently, gesturing towards me with his good hand. "Does that look like love to you? She's terrified."

I trembled as Travis lifted the barrel of the gun to my temple and ran the cool metal across my skin, my breathing growing ragged. He leaned his forehead against mine and closed his eyes.

"I don't want to hurt you." He whispered, so quietly I almost missed it.

I exhaled slowly, letting my breath fan his face. "Then don't." I pleaded, hyper aware of the metal still lodged painfully against my head. "You don't have to do this, Travis. You don't have to be this person. It's not too late." I lied smoothly, trying not to focus on the immense agony radiating through my body or the intense fear, and instead doing the only thing I had ever been good at. How fitting that acting could be the thing to save my life. I needed to play this role with the conviction of Leonardo DiCaprio. I held Brooks' gaze for a moment longer, trying to communicate silently and willing him to understand.

"You're not a bad person, Travis, I can tell. And maybe, if you let me go, we can try and do it the right way. We could be together for real." I promised, forcing authenticity into my voice. I could hear Brooks' tense breathing from where he stood unmoving, but I tried to ignore it. I summoned all of my overwhelming feelings for Brooks and tried to display them on my face for Travis. It felt forced and wrong, but I didn't allow the expression to slip for even a moment.

His body froze beneath me, and I could tell he was searching my face for any sign that I was being insincere. "You mean that?" Delight flitted across his features, and I smiled breathlessly.

Instead of answering, I reached up and wound my hands around his neck, twisting my fingers into his dark hair. I squeezed my eyes shut, praying that this wouldn't be as bad as I knew it was going to be and that Brooks was on the same page. I wrapped my hand around the gun and gently lowered it by our sides, and then pressed my mouth enthusiastically against Travis', distracting him for just long enough to reach out my right hand to Brooks. It was risky, but it was the only chance we had of making it out of here in one piece.

Brooks charged at him from across the room, and Travis let out a screech of surprise before he sailed through the air and crashed into cement. I had never before been so grateful for football and Brooks' uncanny ability to tackle large men to the ground. Brooks wasted no time in stomping on the hand that held the gun, causing Travis to release another shriek and the metal to slide across the ground. Without hesitation I fumbled as fast as I could over to the weapon and grabbed it with both hands, adrenaline taking over as I pointed it shakily at Travis. Brooks backed away from the man on the floor and out of my line of fire. Was he worried that I was going to shoot him and miss?

Was I going to shoot?

"Go on, do it." Travis taunted once he had regained his breath, sitting up slowly with a ravenous look in his eye. My finger hovered over the trigger, but I could see in Travis' eyes that he didn't think I was going to pull it. "Do it!" He yelled, opening his arms out to me. "All of the greatest love stories end in tragedy. Now ours can too."

I didn't think about it, I just pulled the trigger.

Travis' eyes went wide and he cowered against the floor, and I watched with satisfaction as my bullet created a symmetrical hole in the plaster about five feet above his head. A hysterical laugh bubbled out of me. Travis turned back to gape at me, before his mouth twisted into a smirk.

"Is that the best you can do?"

I didn't have time to correct that I hadn't actually been aiming for him, because before I knew what was happening, ten or so men came rushing into the building, sprinting towards Travis. I froze, wondering if Travis had a team coming to finish us off, but then I saw the glint of a badge under the light and I let out a relieved sob.

"Freeze! We have you surrounded. No one move."

The FBI. I didn't know how they had found us, but thank God they had.

"Miss! Drop your weapon!"

I barely heard the orders being barked at me as Travis stared at me, a smug smirk on his face as if he had won. "Until we meet again, my love."

This wasn't a sick game to me, and there were no winners here. I vaguely noted someone yelling something to me again, but I couldn't hear anything over the sound of my blood racing in my ears.

"Savannah." A familiar voice snapped me out of my reverie, and I turned to see Brooks watching me with concern, both of his hands held up like he was surrendering. I took a step towards him with numb confusion, pausing when he in turn took a step back. And it was then that I realized my hands were still clutching the gun, my index finger resting on the trigger.

I dropped the gun onto the floor like it had burned me, watching it bounce heavily and slide a few feet before it came to a rest, the barrel facing away from us all. I stared at it in amazement, and then turned back to Brooks, who looked a little calmer now.

People moved in a flurry around me, lunging for Travis, but all that existed was Brooks.

"Savannah, can you hear me?" He asked gently, in that wild-animal-tamer tone I'd heard him use just once before. His golden brown eyes swirled with emotions I couldn't quite figure out, and his surrendered hands became outstretched palms.

"Y-yes."

All at once my composure shattered, the earth-shattering weight of the night's events coming crashing down on me. A wail erupted from my chest, and my legs gave way just in time for Brooks to envelope me in his arms. I burrowed myself into his warmth, clutching at him and trying to force myself closer, as if he could drive away the shock and terror and exhaustion I was feeling. I sought from him the strength that I could no longer find in myself, and he gave it to me without hesitation.

"It's okay," he murmured, "You're safe." He stroked my back and my hair and rocked me back and forth as I fell apart in his lap on the floor. I was so numb I could barely feel the aches in my body anymore. "You hear me Savannah? You're safe now."

I sobbed violently into his chest, my fingers practically sewn into his shirt.

He continued to cradle me in the safety of his arms, kissing my hair over and over as the world around us continued in a blur of chaos and emergency workers.

"You're safe now Savannah. I'll never let anything happen to you ever again. You're safe, baby. I promise."