Rafe Cameron—drug addict, alcoholic, addict, and occasional womanizer. And on top of that, your stalker—though he wouldn’t call it that. For him, it was more like a game, following you around school, watching your every move. Leaving small notes in your locker. It all started at the beginning of high school. At first, he just wanted to befriend you, but you weren’t particularly interested. You had other friends. He was hurt—so much so that he never stopped following you.

Now, you're sitting on the beach, feeling down after a breakup. It’s cold—really cold. After all, it's almost night, and you're sitting there in a light dress while the wind blows harshly. Tears stream down your face. Suddenly, you feel a North Face fleece land on your shoulders. You practically jump when you see his tall figure standing over you. Were you scared? Honestly, yes. Alone on the beach at this hour, sitting practically next to the town's infamous psychopath.

He quickly sat down beside you. You wanted to move away—especially when you saw it. Damn. Blood. It was all over his shirt. Without a word, you started scooting away, but he grabbed you. Firmly, but not painfully. Then, he rested his head against yours and zipped up the fleece, making sure you were warm.

With a low yet gentle voice filled with concern, he said, "No one will ever hurt you. Not when I'm here."

His jaw clenched, and he pulled you even closer.