I text June on my way to the university. She hasn't answered any of my texts since Friday and I'm getting really worried now.

Alexander and I don't have the same classes now, so we part our ways in front of my classroom. Hopefully, June is going to be here today because I share this class with her.

When I enter the room, my eyes search all the faces, looking for June, but she's not here. I check my phone again just in case I missed her texts, but there are none. I can't call her friends, either, because I don't have their numbers.

I sit in the front row, taking my books out.

"Hey," comes a rushed voice from my right.

My head immediately snaps up, the relief flooding through my body. "June! Hey." She's looking away from me, her hair framing her face, busy taking the books out. "I haven't heard from you since Friday. Did you get my texts?"

"Ah, shoot," she says, still not looking at me. "I actually lost my phone on Friday and I still haven't got a new one."

She smooths down her hair, making sure it's in place before she finally turns and looks at me. She's wearing makeup today but I can see how tired her eyes look.

"Are you okay?" I ask her.

She gives me a cheerful smile. "Of course! Why wouldn't I be?"

Her hair is framing her face on both sides and it looks like she's trying to hide. A bad feeling settles in my stomach.

One of her books suddenly falls on the floor and she flinches. "Damn," she mutters, leaning down and putting it back up. When she looks at me again, the hair on her right side of her face moves, revealing her face and I gasp.

"June! What happened to your face?"

Her smile immediately slips and she puts her hair back in place, holding it there.

I can see the bruises, even though she tried to cover them with make-up.

"I was attacked," she says quietly, nervously looking around.

"What? When? By whom?" My heart is racing and my thoughts are running wild in my head.

"After the party on Friday. I was waiting outside to go home and someone attacked me." Her shoulders slump forward.

I don't know what to say. "You were alone?" Where were her friends?

"Yes. my friends went home before me because I thought my ride would come minutes after they left but it took a little longer and, well ..."

"Oh, my God." I swallow the bile that formed in my throat, feeling chills running down my body. I immediately feel guilty for some reason because I didn't stay longer.

"Did you go to the police? Did they find the person?"

"Yes and no. There were two of them and both got away. I don't know what the point was, though. They didn't take anything from me, they just attacked me and threw a few punches at me."

I shudder at the thought, looking down at the desk. "God, June. This is awful," I say, my stomach in knots.

"It was really terrible. I'm just happy I got out whole and they didn't do much damage."

My thoughts feel cloudy and I don't know what to say. Because an experience when you get attacked stays with you. That changes you forever and I know how it feels like.

"If you want to talk to someone about it ... I'm always here."

June looks at me for a few moments and she nods tightly. "Thank you, Gabby. You're a good friend. I don't think there's much to say, anyway."

I disagree, but I say nothing. I'm not going to push her because, hell, it took me years to talk about it and I still can't openly talk about it with just anyone.

˙˙˙

I take the bus home because I didn't want to bother Alexander to come pick me up since he left already because his classes finished sooner. I also take this time to go over what June told me today because it stayed on my mind for the whole day.

I can't shake this bad feeling off me. I felt like there was something more to tell that she kept to herself or just didn't want to say. I don't know why their friends didn't stay with her until someone picked her up. If I learned something is that girls have to go out in groups for a reason and I take that very seriously.

When I come home, Alexander is standing in the middle of the living room, talking on the phone. I'm so relieved to see him. I always love when I come home and he's the first person I see because he always makes everything better for me. He just has that power.

I take my shoes off and walk to him, his eyes on me the whole time. "I know, but it could be something really minor. I won't know until I have a look at it."

When I'm standing in front of him, I step up on my tiptoes and steal a kiss from him, then letting him finish his conversation to go to the kitchen, but Alexander stops my by hooking his finger inside the belt hoop on my jeans, pulling me back.

He puts his hand on my cheek and leans down, giving me a proper kiss, moving his phone away from his ear for a second.

When he pulls back, he keeps his hand on my cheek, his eyes running all over my face, his eyebrows scrunching together. "Yeah, yeah," he says into the phone. "I'll come by and check it out sometime this week, ok? Gotta run now."

He ends the call and puts his phone in his pocket, his eyes on me the whole time. "What's wrong?"

He knows me too well. Even though I have a stupid smile plastered on my face from the kiss he just gave me, he can see right through me. "June was attacked on Friday night," I blurt out.

Alexander moves backwards, his eyes widening. "What?" he asks sharply.

I tell him what June told me, seeing how his expression changes. His eyes get stormy, his jaw clenched tightly. "She doesn't think it's a big deal, though."

"Not a big fucking deal?" Alexander snaps. "You were sitting outside, all alone and too drunk to think straight when I came to pick you up. Your friend got attacked because she was alone out because her fucking friends left. That sounds a pretty big deal to me, Little one, because you were at that place that night. All fucking alone, might I add!"

Oh, he's pissed. At me. I sigh. "I wasn't alone. It was just for a few minutes maybe," I mumble, but I realise how stupid that was of me. He's right. That could've been me, but I was too drunk to think clearly. I feel the panic rising inside of me because what if it were me?

"Fucking shit, Gabby," he says, rubbing his neck.

He always curses a lot when he's angry.

"Who was the attacker?"

I shrug. "There were two of them, but they didn't find them. They didn't take anything from her, so it wasn't a robbery."

His eyes get even darker when I tell him that. "Planned attack?" he guesses.

I shake my head, but then stop. "I don't know. Could it be? She's ... I don't think someone would try to hurt her." She's a literal sweetheart.

Alexander rubs his face. "Fuck," he mutters in frustration.

"Maybe they wanted someone else."

Alexander's eyes flare. And my stomach falls. "Do you think ...?"

"I'm thinkin' lots of things right now, baby. It could be, yeah. God knows I pissed a few people off in my life."

"Oh." I rub my lips together, letting his words sink in me. "Oh, God," I say, horrified. I made myself a pretty easy target that night.

"I'd commit murder if someone even so much as thought about hurting you," Alexander swears venomously, coming to me.

He suddenly wraps his arms around me, tightly pulling me against his chest, squeezing me so hard I can barely breathe. "No one's coming after you," he promises. "Not on my watch."

And I believe him. I believe that he'd hurt them because he did it once, with Ryder, when he shot him in the leg because he took me. We weren't even together then. I close my eyes, letting my head rest against his hard chest. I feel so protected right now. I could forever stay like this with him.

I feel him kiss the top of my head, squeezing me even harder.

"You have to let me breathe," I mumble against his chest, pushing him away.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry," Alexander says, immediately releasing me.

The thought that someone would try to hurt me is hard to process because it fills me with panic and fear. Maybe it's just our overthinking. Maybe it's really nothing. When I look at Alexander's stormy eyes, I immediately feel otherwise. "Who could it be?" I ask him.

His face looks painful. "Fuck if I know. And they better hope I don't find out."

"Maybe it's not what we think. Maybe it's really nothing."

Alexander places his hand on my cheek, softly caressing it. "I certainly hope so, baby girl."

I lean into his touch, placing my hand over his.

"I've been looking for therapists," Alexander suddenly admits.

"And?" I ask him. It fills me with content to see how much he's trying to move on from his past and have a better life. I know he struggles sometimes because he's surrounded by the people who aren't the best influence, but to see him trying proves that he's really trying to be better and try to make this work.

He shrugs. "I don't know. I don't want to just pick someone randomly," he murmurs.

"Maybe your parents could help you? Maybe they know someone."

"They do because they went to therapy, too," he admits.

I didn't know that. But it makes sense. Losing someone, especially a child, probably causes unbearable pain to a parent. Just like a child losing their parents. I have to blink a few times to get the image and memories out of my head, not wanting to remember that pain again.

"We'll find someone," I promise him, turning my head and kissing his palm.

˙˙˙

The rest of the week is pretty uneventful. I study a little more during the week because I'm taking the weekend off. Alexander doesn't want to tell me where he's taking me but he said it's beautiful and we'll escape the city life and everyone here for a little while.

I'm looking forward to spending the whole weekend with him in the middle of nowhere. I think we need some time together to take our minds off everything that's been happening.

On Friday, I make sure I am done with studying by the evening. Alexander came back from his run a little way back. I haven't seen him since I came home because he went to one of his friends to go look at his motorcycle that apparently had some problem.

He's in the kitchen, making his protein shake when I walk in after I heard him coming home. "Hey," I say, making him lift up his head from his phone that's laying on the counter and he was scrolling through something. "When are we going to Islington tonight?"

"We're not," he says.

"Really?" My eyebrows pull together. "Why not?"

He shrugs. "Not feeling up to it." He pushes his phone away, his attention fully on me now.

O-kay. It's not like Alexander to miss a race just because he's not feeling up to it. "Uh, okay ..." I say reluctantly, searching his face to figure out if there's something going on.

His mouth quirks up because he immediately knows what I'm doing. He puts his shake down on the counter and comes to me, putting his hands on my hips and looking into my eyes with the softest gaze. "There's no motive behind my decision, Gabby. I'm really not feeling like going there tonight and I want to just in. With you."

Only when I feel my shoulders relax do I realise how tense they've been. "Oh. Okay," I say lightly. "It was just unexpected," I admit.

"Uh-huh," he says, dipping his head and kissing me. His hands come up to my arms. "Hope you're all packed. We're leaving early."

I rub my lips together, savouring the taste of him. Chocolate. Probably from the protein bar. "Where are we going?"

He gives me a sexy, secretive smile. "Somewhere you'll definitely like."

"I don't know what to take with me. Casual clothes? Warm?"

His eyes rake up and down my body in appreciation. "Baby, you're not going to wear any clothes most of the time, so don't even bother." My eyes widen and he places another swift kiss on my lips before backing away and taking his shake again, watching me while he puts it to his lips and drinks.

I feel my cheeks getting warmer at his deep gaze, his eyes darkening, but his expression amused.

"I'm excited to go away with you and there will be just us and no one else," I admit to him suddenly, feeling overwhelmed with emotions and love for him.

His eyes soften and he puts his shake down again. "It's always just us, Gabby. In everything; everywhere."

My head tilts to the side. "But are we really?" I ask him quietly.

His look is intense on me when he answers, "Yes, Gabrielle. And it's always going to be that way with us. Don't you see that?" He shakes his head. "What we have is once in a lifetime. We're so deep under each other's skin that there's no space for anyone else. It's just us," he repeats again.

And I believe him. Because it really is just us. Two people coming from messed up pasts with our differences, but we complete each other in parts we're both missing and I know for sure that I could never find something like that with anyone. He's my person and I'm making sure it's going to stay that way.