Beautiful Collision

by T. G. Ayer

It was a girl's room, all pink and taffeta. I hadn't the heart to change it after they were gone. Mom and I had picked everything out together and changing even one thing seemed to be the worst kind of betrayal. So I'd left it the way it was. Now, I watched my brother, fury turning his face monstrous as he stormed toward me and grabbed me by the hair, the nails of his fingers scraping my scalp. His eyes gleamed of alcohol and a little bit of something else. Something that made me nauseous with fear.

  I struggled against his hold. "Anthony, you're hurting me." My words were a whimper of pain, a plea to be left alone.

  It did nothing.

  "Anthony, I've got to study," I said, unsure what else to say to him. I felt stupid being held so viciously, being unable to say anything, and with his friends watching. He seemed beyond reasoning and my heart was racing, slamming against my ribs as fear ripped bile up from my stomach into my throat. I pulled at his hand. "Please, Anthony. You're hurting me." I sobbed the words out as pain seared through my scalp.

  A movement behind him and his two friends entered the room. They didn't look intoxicated any longer, just worried as they stared at Anthony and me.

  "I'm so sick of this shit," my brother said, his voice a growl that sent shivers up my spine. I wasn't sure what to say to him so I just stared up at his face, my tears falling as he seethed.

  "Hey, man. Leave her alone. Let's go to Nico's place," his friend said, staring at Anthony's back, a little fear darkening his eyes. He was the smaller one, not so beefy.

  "What? You think I'm not the boss of my own house?" Anthony snarled, sending spit flying as he turned on his friend.

  "No. You know that's not what I meant." The guy held his hand out and shook his head.

  "Then what did you mean?" Anthony yelled and the guy took a step backward almost trampling Beefcake behind him. Then Anthony yanked me off the bed and I hit the floor so hard that I screamed. The shock of what he was doing to me held me immobile. And when my ankle hit the floorboards hard, I cried out. But instead of checking what caused the pain, Anthony slammed his fist hard into the side of my face.

  It happened in slow motion. One moment I was fine and the next my head was spinning and I was seeing stars. He's hit me before but never this bad and now I was so scared I barely heard the words that were coming out of his mouth. But I concentrated harder and I listened because right this moment I wasn't so confident that I'd survive the night.

  "You never shut up do you? Always nagging, always with the questions. But maybe it's time for me to start asking the questions, little sister. Maybe it's time for me to ask you where the mortgage money is going to come from this month." He shakes me, snapping my head back hard.

  "You know I have school," I whispered, terrified now. I've seen Anthony angry before but he's never been this violent. Sure he's hit me every now and then and I've gotten used to it. Usually he got that way at mortgage time, when his frustration levels were ridiculously high. I'd learned to be as silent as possible, not ask any questions and just stay out of his way until the week after, when he'd calm down a little.

  "School?" he said, sneering. He looked crazed, as if he'd smelled my fear and liked it. He leaned over the bed and grabbed hold of my laptop. When he flung it across the room it took me a while to process what he'd done. The open laptop hit the far wall and broke into three pieces, the plastic keyboard coming free, the parts hitting the dresser that sat against the wall, then toppling to the floor.

  He turned his satisfied gaze back to me, a happy smile turning his lips up garishly. "Think you should forget about school. It's time we put you to better use." Then he grabbed my crotch and squeezed hard and as I scrabbled to remove his fingers he said, "Maybe my little sister needs to make a living too. And I know exactly how you can do it. On your back, that's what."

  Tears rolled down my eyes and mingled with the blood on my lips and I tasted copper in my mouth. My lip was split open and one side of my face was beginning to swell.

  Anthony was so focused on me that he didn't see the fury in the eyes of the men behind him. He didn't see the blow that hit him on the back of his head. He was unconscious before he fell onto me, his hand finally loosening its hold. I sobbed, terrified now of what the two strange men in my room would do to me. My brother was unconscious.

  There was nobody to protect me.

  And then I want to laugh out loud. The strange men had been the ones to protect me. From my brother.

  I sobbed harder and felt Anthony's weight shift from on top on me. I was still shaking when hands lifted me off the floor from where I'd fallen. I was cold all over as I watched Beefcake throw Anthony over his shoulder and walk out of the apartment, mumbling something in a foreign language I barely recognized.

  The second guy checked out my ankle, his fingers gentle as they ran over the joint. Then he examined my face before disappearing for a few moments. He returned with a couple of pills and a glass of water. "Take this," he said. "It will help with the pain and the swelling." He turned to leave then stopped in the doorway. "And don't worry. We won't let him come back until he is sober. And not until tomorrow anyway so you can have the night in peace."

  A part of me was worried about Anthony, worried what Beefcake was planning to do to him, and another part of me hoped he'd be kind enough to beat the living shit out of my brother before he returned him.

  My gaze was dead as I turned my eyes to him. "And what if he's worse when he gets sober?"

  "Don't worry. We'll make sure he doesn't hurt you."

  "And how will you make sure of that?" I asked him softly and his expression twisted into something strange.

  He knew what I meant. Understood what I was saying. Then he shrugged. "I am sorry. I'll try to do what I can. Maybe Nikolai can make him a little scared to hurt you?" He said but it was as if he was thinking as he spoke and just realized that it was probably a good idea. Then he smiled and nodded at me and left me in the room alone.

  They closed the door as they went and I knew I had to get up and lock it behind them, but my legs refused to hold me. I looked down at my open palm at the two little blue tablets that promise to ease my pain. My hand was shaking and I was scared I'd drop them so I tilted my head back and popped them in, then washed them down with some of the water. I slopped water all over my hand and thigh but I registered little of it.

  I sat there in the silence for a moment, not wanting to absorb the reality of what had just happened. Then I got to my feet. Before the pills kicked in I needed to lock the apartment door, so I forced myself to walk down the hall, to put the chain on, and turn the deadbolt. Even if he had his key Anthony wouldn't be able to enter the apartment with the deadbolt locked. I smiled and headed back to my room.

  When I entered it I stopped in my tracks, the urge to throw up pulling at my gut and fisting in my throat. I swallowed hard not wanting to waste the pills. It would mean I'd have to go looking for something else for the pain and I was in no condition to search for medicine. My face throbbed, my head hurt, my eyelid was closing too and I could barely see straight.

  My bedside table was shattered, the lamp in pieces on the floor. Over by the dresser the remains of my laptop made my stomach hurt. All that work. I blinked back tears as I reached out to shut my room door only to recall that it was now in pieces and closing it was pointless.

  I stumbled over to the bed, kicked off my shoes and got under the covers. Things were getting hazy and I wondered what it was that the guy had given me. How did I know I could even trust him anyway? What if they came back later to take me away? How would I even protect myself? Just because they stopped Anthony didn't mean I could actually trust them.

  How stupid I was to have taken the pills.

  But it was too late now. I sobbed, the breath shuddering though my chest as darkness edged my vision. A heavy weight pulled at my shoulders and when I swallowed, my throat felt strange, scratchy and a little cold.

  It is too late, I thought as I sank into the abyss.

  CHAPTER TWELVE
/>   Thane

  I'd been looking for the registrations office, keeping my eyes focused on the direction signs when, naturally, I fall all over someone. The sun's in my eye but I grab at them as they tilt away, hoping I'm preventing them from a terrible fall. The concrete is never very forgiving. Trust me, I know this in more ways than one.

  The arm under my fingers is soft, smooth and then I move a little sideways and blink a few times. And now I can see her. And my heart smashes to a stop painfully. My throat is dry and I swallow hard and even that simple action is difficult. I'm so close to her that I can see the dark, almost blue, flecks in her gray eyes. She's got her shades up on her head holding her hair back instead of using them to protect her eyes and I'm really glad for that. With them on her face I wouldn't have gotten to see those beautiful eyes.

  I stare at her for a moment and I register that I haven't yet let go of her arm. I'm reluctant to set her free. I suddenly feel vulnerable looking at her with my face bare. I shake my head and slip my glasses back onto my face with my free hand.

  "I'm so sorry," I say, feeling a little safer behind the shades but I feel like my voice is revealing more than it should. What is it with her? She's struck me to the core just with one look.

  Smooth, Thane, real smooth.

  "I should've been watching where I was going. Are you alright?" I say. I'm speaking but for a moment she seems bewildered and I wonder at how smart it is to be this close to her.

  "I'm fine," she whispers. Her voice is husky and so infinitely sexy. It makes me want to smile and do things I shouldn't be thinking about doing with her.

  Not now and not ever.

  "You're sure?" I ask again because I'm worried she's embarrassed and for some god-damned reason I'm also worried that she'll never want to speak to me again. Especially since the look she's giving me right about now is filled with pure suspicion. She shrugs her arm out of my grip and I feel the loss of her warm skin against my palm like a blow to the gut.

  I'm not sure what else to say but I try a shrug and a smile. "Look, I'm really sorry I bumped you. I was looking at the signs and totally didn't see you."

  She smiles back but I can see though her pretense to the suspicion lurking in her eyes. Whatever my feelings were about her, her eyes happened to be magical even when they were shuttered by her lids.

  She blinks at me. "Okay, then. I'd better be going." Then she slips past me and walks off. I turn and watch her go, unable to take my eyes off her. She's wearing hot pink and the skirt is way too short; it does something to the pit of my stomach that I have to wrestle into submission.

  With a flick of her long hair, she glances back at me and just that one look makes me start moving towards her like she has this crazy hold over me.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Watcher

  I'm watching as the girl heads into the Admissions office, an air of lightness around her. Her hair is dark today and it looks natural, not like a wig. I'm used to seeing her in different hair colors and I think the black looks good on her. I'd still vote for her natural blonde but my opinion hardly matters.

  She's wearing that damned pink dress from the other day, short and flirty, and I have to admit it's a little distracting. Head in the game, boyo, I remind myself as I watch her go.

  I'm a little confused how she intends to register and still hide from her family. She must be more naive than I thought and that makes me feel a little sorry for her. She must know she can be tracked using her school records. All they have to do is look her name up to see if she's registered at any universities in the country. Her people have all the technology, and the smarts at their disposal. Not to mention the ruthlessness.

  I'm more than ready to follow her inside, but the muscles in my thighs clench as I force myself to wait to hear what Wade has to say. I just know he's not gonna like this. My CO's voice crackles over the comms, serious and urgent. "Yes, register her, but cover her tracks. We don't want anything to allow her to be traced. Make sure her trail goes cold even if you have to mistype the name of her school. Over."

  There is silence for a moment and I'm tense, waiting to hear what's happening next. I hadn't missed the tension in his voice, and Wade didn't usually let his tension show. "Got it. Yes, treat this as witness protection. Wipe whatever you can but make sure the application and acceptance is legit. Over."

  I'd requested someone be placed at the campus registrations the moment I'd realized she was headed to Santa Barbara. Just one of those things we had to do to cover all possible bases. I hadn't expected her to register. The more appropriate choice would have been a job in a book store or a small cafe or something. Not the university. But we'd been extra careful. We even placed an agent at the local supermarket knowing she'd head there for supplies. Although our purpose wasn't protection, we would now do whatever is necessary to ensure she remains alive.

  We need her alive. Dead she is of no use to us.

  I grit my teeth as I recall how close Boris had gotten to her. Within inches. He'd stood there holding a damned tea strainer in his hand, while she pushed her trolley past him on the way to checkout. I'd watched, holding my breath, just daring him to do something so I could wipe him from the face of mankind.

  Even now, I'm tense when I think about the look in his eyes as she'd passed him by.

  Predatory.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Thane

  After experiencing the force that is Alice, I grab my stack of registration papers and stroll to the table. Gray McAllister, is hunched over her paperwork as if she's wrestling a wild stallion. Her black hair cascades across her shoulder, rich and thick.

  I blink, what the hell is wrong with me? When did I start to think of hair as rich, anyway? Man, I sound so lame. And why the hell am I chasing after her like this? It's a head-scratcher. But I'm caught in the riptide, right now.

  Nothing for it but to go with the flow.

  I'm sitting in front of her and her head is down, the black eyes of her sunglasses staring at me, warning me away. It's cool in here. Much cooler than outside and I can see she's a little chilled. The hairs on her arms are standing on end and for some reason that small thing breaks me.

  I shift a bit in my seat, and under the table my knees smack into hers. She flinches. So . . . she's affected by my closeness too. For a moment I'm thrilled. For a moment I almost smile. And then she's sliding herself away on her seat. Far back against the back.

  My excitement tempers.

  What the hell am I doing anyway? I shouldn't even be here.

  The line is right there in front of me, the line I'm not supposed to cross. If I'm smart I won't cross it.

  I glance over at Alice and when I look back at Gray I see she's been watching me. "Wow, she's a tough nut to crack," I say softly, tilting my head at Alice at the counter. I'm trying to loosen this girl up, she seems uptight, lofty, unreachable.

  "Must be hard for you?" she says. Her voice is kind. As if she feels very sorry for me. I'm frowning. I wipe my palms on my jeans slowly, glad I still have my shades on to hide my confusion. Why would she feel sorry for me? Then I hear her husky voice breaking through my thoughts. "You probably have all the girls swooning at your feet so it's understandable this is difficult for you." Now that I didn't expect.

  Score one for McAllister.

  I'm grinning. And then I'm laughing so hard my shoulders are shaking. When I glance at her she stares at me, scowling. Her chance to be confused. Then I sober up a bit, can feel Alice glaring.

  I lean forward, my face serious and I'm hoping she believes what I say. "I'm very sorry I knocked you over," I say softly. Then, as if that was the end of it, I bend my head and focus on the forms. I pay as little attention as I possibly can to her as she slowly completes her forms and then heads back to the counter to talk to Alice.

  A little while later, I'm walking to the counter just as she hurries outside. I watch her disappear into the warm summer heat and force myself to tamp down the need inside me.

  Stay aw
ay from her, Thane.

  I grit my teeth because I'm not so sure I can.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Gray

  I head to Fine Arts as fast as my shaking legs can carry me, my mind still very much focused on Thane. I wonder if he has followed me, but I refuse to look over my shoulder to check. I harden my resolve and keeping my neck stiff, I walk on. But, even the heat of the day cannot compare to the heat in my veins. My heels clack along the stone pathway as I weave my way through the campus.

  I am surrounded by students, sprawled across the grass and seated on stairways, chatting, laughing, somber or silent. A football flies past me, a mere foot from my face, followed by raucous yelling. A range of people. A plethora of moods. It feels good to be in a neutral environment, one that is not threatening, not overtly dangerous. One where nobody has ulterior motives where I am concerned.

  Moving inside from the heat into the air conditioned Fine Arts building is slightly disconcerting, and as the icy air hits my face I'm surprised I don't exhale white clouds. I speak to the receptionist who helps me gather my book-lists and then I'm braving the blasting heat again to hurry to the campus bookshop. I'm lucky they have all my books and I'm starting to relax a little the more time that goes by since I last saw the delectable Thane.

  I raise my head to peep through the bookshop door as I pass through the aisles and I have to admit there is a part of me hoping to see him again. I've dismissed the thought that he's a short-term stalker. Or that he could be Nikolai's man.

  He was just a guy talking to me on a university campus. How dangerous can he be?

  I'm lurking around the store, enjoying the smell of books, and hovering over a stack of art history books when my gaze travel down the aisle and land on the easel. The sight of the wooden stand does two things. It sends my fingers itching to throw a sketchpad on it and start drawing, and it reawakens my passion for art.