The crowd parts for him as he stalks toward me, immediately quieting at the sight of him fuming. All eyes follow his gaze and eventually land on me. I feel my face reddening as I sense them watching me, all probably wondering what a guy like Grayson wants with a girl like me.

I want to curl up and die.

When he reaches me, he firmly places his hand on the small of my back and pulls me toward him, guiding me away from the crowd. As we walk away from the gaping swarms of people, he leans down and presses his mouth millimeters from my ear. I can feel his breath on that sensitive area and suddenly find it hard to walk straight.

But the words he spits out are far from sensual. "What the fuck are you doing here, River?"

We stop under a large tree and he whips around to face me, eyes blazing darkly. He looks wilder now and I want his hands back on my bare skin. He looms over me, almost pressing me against him totally.

"Are you fucking stalking me? Are you out of your goddamn mind? You could've gotten yourself killed here." He breathes out, taking his eyes off me to collect his thoughts and calm down. "Do you know the kinds of people here? What the guys here want to do to a girl like you. Dressed like that?"

I step back, insulted and angered by his tone and the implication of what he's saying. A girl like me?  What does that mean? I straighten and stand on my tiptoes, trying to look him in the eyes. "The last thing I need is a fucking lecture from you, Grayson. You don't know me, and you sure as hell don't have a right to talk to me like this."

"Well when you follow me to an illegal street race, blissfully unaware of the danger you're putting yourself in. Do you know what it would fucking do to me knowing you got hurt because of me?" He says, passionately raising his voice. I don't let myself think about his last comment about him caring about me. I need to get this out.

"No, Grayson. You don't get to do this again. We've known each other for, what, a month?" I can't believe I'm saying this. "Who the fuck do you think you are, acting like this? One minute, acting like an asshole that doesn't give two shits about me, then turning around pretending like you're my fucking dad?"

He opens his mouth but no words come out. His eyes gain a far-off look and I know I may have gone too far. But I'm not going back. I barely know him but the emotions he makes me feel are unnecessarily intense.

Suddenly, his grey eyes harden. He scans over the curious crowd before focusing back on me. His cold gaze is trained on me in a terrifyingly detached way and I know his next few words are going to hurt.

"Well maybe it's your own fucking fault for misreading this situation." He laughs cruelly, too far gone to consider his next words. "You really think I care about you? Some stuck-up bitch who's probably only good for a single fuck? I'm only talking to you because I'm embarrassed for you - the way you're following and throwing yourself at me."

I harden my own gaze, zeroing in on his stoney expression. I don't remember the last time I felt this infuriated.

He turns around, already walking away. He doesn't even look at me this time to hurt me. "You don't know me either so stop trying. It's fucking pathetic."

The crowd is silent, clearly uncomfortable listening in on the whole situation.

In a matter of seconds, they revert back to celebrating his huge win. They've forgotten about me and the shit show they just witnessed. Grayson is their righteous king again and I'm nothing but a delusional nobody with no self-respect.

My throat burns with every firey word I want to throw in his face. But as I watch him leave, I just want to go home and get away from this asshole.

I look frantically for Jenna, afraid to leave the darkness of the tree for fear of further embarrassment. While looking, I can almost swear I see Grayson glance back at me with an emotion other than anger written on his face. But it disappears and he's back to his admiring fans, unaware of my existence entirely.

I can't find Jenna and I start to panic, knowing I'm miles from my house and my phone is dead. I'm thinking of an emergency plan when I feel hands on my back. Small, grimey hands, not large enough to be Grayson's.

I whip around, coming face-to-face with Snake. As much as I want to feel relieved to see a familiar face, the lecherous grin on his face makes me want to get as far away from him as possible. I swat his hands away, suddenly feeling afraid and disgusted at the same time.

"You know what they say, girlie." He licks his lips slowly. "One man's trash is another man's treasure. How 'bout you let me show you how a real man can treat a little lady like you?"

I back away until my back hits the tree. The bark scrapes into my flesh painfully as I press myself against the trunk, desperate to get as far from Snake as possible. "Get away from me you creepy fuck. Not interested."

Despite the show of confidence I put on, I'm scared shitless. We're just far enough away from the main group that no one can see us unless they try to. And I doubt anyone is temped to check on me.

He doesn't respond for a second but his heavy eyes are reason enough to trigger my fight-or-flight reflex. I open my mouth, ready to scream for help, but his sweaty hands are slapped over my mouth before I can make a sound.

His dirty nails dig into the soft flesh of my cheek and tears are pouring down my face again.

His eyes darkened, squinting with desire and impulsivity. Before I can escape, he's trapped me with his body, rubbing against me painfully.

"You're such an ugly fucking tease. I'm doing you a favor right now. No one wants some whore, parading herself around like she's too good for us boys. I'll show you exactly how Grayson should have punished that sweet little b--"

I knee him hard in his pathetic little nuts and he stumbles backward. He curls up around his precious parts and starts groaning. I think about his gross hands on me and his fucking entitlement and the disgusting things he said to me and I. See. Red.

Something inside me snaps, channeling all my pent-up aggression and conflicting emotions into pure ass-beating rage. I'm on autopilot, moving my limbs and hardly thinking about it. In my mind, my parents' voices merge with Grayson's to form a tangle of belittling and insulting.

I'm not thinking straight, only releasing everything in me and fully fucking Snake's shit up.

By the time I gain control back, he's leaning desperately against the tree, bleeding and writhing from my brutal assault. Without any plan at all, I turn to run far away, but a large figure stomps into the dark carnage, stopping me in my tracks.

Without a word, Grayson takes Snake by his weak shoulders and decks him across his already-broken face. I start walking up to them, prepared to tell Grayson that I didn't need his help, but he keeps going.

Punch after furious punch, Grayson reduces Snake to a heap of blood and flesh on the ground. He doesn't stop there, continuing to kick the defenseless body with all his might. The swiftness and sureness of his violent movements are terrifying, much like that day in the hallway. I'm brought back to the pain and brutality of that day, the brokenness of Tyler's beaten body as he was wheeled away barely-alive.

I can't let that happen again and I know that Grayson's too far gone to stop himself. I can't let him allow that side of him to take over again.

He's going to kill Snake if I don't do something,

I walk up and shove Grayson back with all my capable force, barely knocking him back at all. He tries to get around my body but I barricade him from Snake. I put my hands on both sides of his face, forcing him to look at me. For a moment, I've forgotten the words we'd exchanged earlier and all that matters is getting through to him.

As hard as it is, I push aside my angry feelings toward him and act on instinct. I can't let him do this.

"Grayson. Grayson. Stop!" I plead, willing him to look at me. I try pulling him back but he easily wrenches out of my grip. I try to get in his line of sight. Looking at him, I see that his eyes maintain that ferocious fire and I fear that he's really lost control of himself. Pining for a solution, I throw myself between him and Snake, praying that he'll anchor himself back to reality.

Deep down, I'm afraid he'll burst at any second and finish what he started, leaving me as collateral damage. But the strange magnetism between us is undeniable, and it's pulling me helplessly toward him.

He looks at me with his fist raised, prepared to land another punch. But his electric eyes connect with mine and recognition floods his expression. He freezes, breathing heavily and staring down at me. I hope that he sees the desperation in my eyes, that he heard the desperation in my voice.

Then I remember the terrible things he said to me and I back away. His eyes are still glued to me and I can tell he's about to say something. He reaches toward me. I fight against the attraction I feel and remind myself that I'm better than throwing myself at a man who just publicly humiliated me. I stopped him from killing Snake--not it's time for me to leave.

Then we hear police sirens, wailing and growing louder by the second. Grayson's expression changes to something resembling panic and he grabs my hand. "We gotta get out of here. NOW."

I want to rip my hand from his grip but the sirens are painfully loud now and I know what will happen to me if I stay. I suppress my growing anger, focusing on getting the hell out of here.

He tugs me in the direction of where his car is and I run alongside him, hand still woven into his. Everyone else seems to have the same idea; it's absolute chaos with the crowd frantically dispersing and fumbling toward their cars. The sirens are approaching fast and I know we have mere seconds before this all comes tumbling down, taking us with it.

We finally reach his car and I open the passenger-side door. Grace's Frozen booster seat stares up at me. "Just throw it in the back," Grayson rushes out, already buckling in.

I do as he says and get in, barely closing my door before he's racing off. In the side-view mirror, red and blue lights flash back at me. Some police cars stop at the exit but some are attempting to catch the cars already breaking away. A single cop car speeds in the direction we're going and I prepare for the worse.

Grayson tenses beside me, clearly noticing the same. His knuckles are covered in blood and clutching the steering wheel. "You're buckled in, right?" He asks tensely.

I nod, unable to speak through my panic. A smirk captures his face and he takes a final look in the rear-view mirror before shifting gears. His leg tenses under his jeans as he presses the accelerator.

Before I know it, my head is pressed against the seat and the road is nothing but a moving blur beside me. We're flying at an unbelievably high speed and, yet, my heart is racing at a million beats per second.

Then I look toward Grayson, his dark eyes trained on the road and his lip caught slightly between his teeth in concentration, and the fear seems to disappear. Against all better judgement, my heart continues beating as fast as ever, capturing the bewildering swirl of feelings in my chest.