Collide Series Box Set

by J. C. Hannigan

  "Harlow," Mom said evenly, trying to calm me down, but she'd already set me off.

  "You know what I never told you before?" I shot back, anger surging out of every pore. She stood silent, watching and waiting. "I never told you that yes, I did have sex with every single guy on the basketball team the same night. Against my fucking will. I never told you that sweet little Cole—who you loved so much and thought was so great for me—and his buddies drugged me and took turns raping me, and that I don't even know who I lost my virginity to. But yet you believed all those moms on the PTA, didn't you?" I was blind with tears and anger. I could barely see her shocked face. She looked as if I'd slapped her.

  "I never told you that I'd wanted to die after that, and that Lauren had been the only person who gave a shit enough to see past the rumors and see me. I never told you that Lauren saved my life, did I? Because she did. Without Lauren, I'd probably be dead by now. And now she's gone, and I'm stuck with you, who would trust the gossip of a few PTA moms than her own daughter."

  Mom was sheet white. Her mouth opened and closed, as if she wanted to say something to me but couldn't find the words.

  "Iain is the first person to bring me back to the light since Lauren died—something you never even tried to do. Something you probably didn't even care to do. And he doesn't use sex to do it. Now you want to tell me to walk away from the one slice of happiness I've had in a long time? The one chance at feeling this? Go fuck yourself," I spat out harshly before fleeing out the front door.

  It was hard to wipe the tears from my eyes as I walked to my bus stop; my hands shook so badly. The last thing I wanted to do was go to school, but I certainly didn't want to stay home with her after all I'd told her. I hadn't meant to tell her all that. It just sort of exploded out of me.

  "Fuck," I practically yelled, turning the corner and seeing the bus pull away from my stop. Fresh tears poured down my cheeks, and I wiped them away furiously while I fished out my phone. I sent a text to Jake, asking if he'd mind picking me up. I didn't want to go home and risk seeing my mom again. I told him to meet me a couple blocks over. I walked as quickly as one can walk through snow and slush. November weather in North Bay certainly wasn't like November weather down south. I was nearly at the street corner I'd told Jake to meet me at when a police cruiser pulled up beside me. Fear shot through me as I instantly assumed my mom had called the police, and that they were bringing me in for questioning and arresting Iain. The window rolled down and I startled when I realized it was Carl Cooper and his partner. Seeing Carl Cooper's face did nothing to ease my anxiety.

  "Beautiful morning, huh?" Carl drawled, taking in the sight of me. He took a leisurely sip of his coffee, eyes never leaving me.

  "Stunning," I replied dryly. "What can I do for you, Chief?" My heart was pounding so loudly in my chest that I was almost certain he could hear it.

  "Oh, nothing at all, my dear. I just wanted to remind you to be very careful. It's slippery out here," Carl said, giving me a searching look. "You could get hurt really easily."

  "So I've heard." I gave him a challenging look, trying to keep my eyes fixed on his calculating brown ones.

  He chuckled, deeply amused. "You have a good day; we'll see you around," he said, nodding to his partner to continue driving. I released the breath I hadn't known I'd been holding. Seriously? Could this day get any better?

  "Harlow?" Jake shouted from inside his vehicle, a few houses down. He looked concerned as he watched the cruiser disappear down another road. I finished walking toward his Jeep, slipping and sliding the whole way. My eyes felt dry and crusty. I hated that after-crying feeling. I hopped into the passenger seat and pulled down his mirror to inspect the damage. My waterproof mascara and liquid eyeliner had held up surprisingly well after my morning cry fest. I applied some fresh lipstick and tried to ignore Jake while he stared at me, clearly waiting for an explanation.

  "No, I have no idea what that was about," I finally said when I realized Jake wasn't about to start driving until I answered. I drew in a sharp breath. "He told me it was slippery out and to be careful."

  "That's…odd." Jake pondered, concern on his face as he finally stomped on the gas. I didn't bother telling him that everything Carl Cooper had said hadn't been spoken, it would probably confuse him too much. I personally didn't understand it all that well myself.

  We were nearly fifteen minutes late for first period; I walked into Iain's class when he was in the middle of handing back our book reports.

  "Nice of you to join us, Miss. Jones," Iain said, but his eyes betrayed his concern. I quickly averted my gaze and shrugged, making my way to my seat. "Anyway, the majority of you really need to pick more advanced novels," Iain remarked, handing a book report to Riley. "Unfortunately, Goosebumps doesn't really count as your grade level."

  "Seriously? Goosebumps?" Callie scoffed.

  "Didn't you do The Baby-Sitters Club?" Jenna said sharply, causing the entire class to laugh.

  Callie shot her a death glare.

  "Someone's a little testy today. Didn't get enough to eat this morning?" Callie questioned, her voice dripping with fake concern and looking pointedly at Jenna's stomach.

  "What's that supposed to mean?" Jenna demanded.

  "Oh nothing, just that someone's been packing on the poundage lately," Callie chuckled. "You should really try to eat better, Jenna."

  "Ladies, that's quite enough," Iain's voice sharply rang out, cutting off Jenna's reply.

  Jenna tossed her stuff heatedly into her bag and kicked back her chair, leaving the classroom without a second glance. The entire class "Ooo'ed" and "Ahh'd" as Callie laughed about how Jenna couldn't take a joke.

  I gave Iain a look and he nodded. Standing up, I grabbed my own bag that I hadn't even unpacked yet and followed Jenna out of the classroom.

  I knew I'd find her in the same bathroom on the second floor where I always found her. She was crying softly in one of the stalls.

  "Jenna? Are you okay?" I asked, knocking against the door.

  Jenna opened it, her cheeks wet with tears. "No, I'm not okay! I don't want this baby. I don't want to get fat. I don't want people knowing and thinking…things about me."

  I glanced around, making sure we were alone. "If they knew the truth, they'd never think anything bad about you," I told her. "You're doing an admirable thing that most women aren't strong enough to do."

  "What if I'm not strong enough?" Jenna whispered, staring at her feet. "What if I don't want to do this anymore?"

  "There's still…that other option," I reminded her. "You could still get an abortion, up to twenty weeks."

  "I can't do that," Jenna wailed, chewing on her lip. "I spent all fucking weekend looking at that picture. I can't…I can't do any of this!"

  "Jenna, calm down," I replied, drawing her close to me and putting my arms around her. "It's going to be okay. You just…you just need support. Apparently I'm not very good at it."

  "No, you are." Jenna wiped at her tears, backing away from me. "I can't expect you to be at my every beck and call. I need…I need my mom. But I'm so scared to tell her."

  "Do you want me to go with you?" I asked gently. Jenna nodded. "Okay, I'll go with you then. I already told you I would. Whenever you want me to, I'll be there."

  "Can we go now?" Jenna asked, surprising me. It was the last thing I expected her to say, but then again, she looked like a girl who desperately needed her mother.

  "Now?" I repeated, confused. She nodded, looking away and biting down on her lip.

  "My mom is the only one who's home right now. I couldn't stand to tell them both at the same time…it's…it's too much."

  "Then, okay," I said, picking up my bag off the floor where I'd dropped it. "Let's go."

  * * *

  Jenna pulled into the driveway of her house and turned off the car, taking deep and shaky breaths. She was practically hyperventilating. We got out of the car and I wrapped my arm around her protectively as we came up the walkway.

&
nbsp; Jenna pushed open the front door, calling out for her mom. I was kicking off my boots when Jenna's mom appeared in the foyer.

  "Jenna! Why aren't you at school? Is everything okay?" she asked. The woman looked very similar to Jenna—same blonde hair, same blue eyes and petite features. Her face was lined with age and experience though.

  "No." Jenna started to cry and hyperventilate. Her mother and I led her to the living room, and Mrs. Burke tried hard to calm her down. Finally, she got up and grabbed a glass of water.

  "You need to breathe, Jenna," I whispered, rubbing her upper back with my hand. "Breathe…"

  When Mrs. Burke came back with the water, Jenna had nearly gotten it under control. Her tears were now silently falling as she took a sip of the water and hiccupped.

  "Who is this young lady?" Mrs. Burke asked, eyeing me with open curiosity and wariness.

  "I'm Harlow Jones," I said, extending my hand across Jenna. She shook it.

  "It's nice to meet you," Mrs. Burke said, still frowning as she watched Jenna cry. "Now Jenna, what's going on? Why aren't you in school?" she asked, sitting on the ottoman across from Jenna.

  "I'm…I'm pregnant," Jenna wailed.

  "Okay, probably not the best way to break it to her," I sighed, speaking loudly over Jenna's cries. "Mrs. Burke, a few months ago…Jenna was raped at a party. She's...pregnant from the rapist."

  If people could actually die from shock, I honestly worried about Mrs. Burke. She went pallor white to sea green in a matter of seconds.

  "Honey…is this true?" she asked, her eyes darting back and forth between the both of us.

  Jenna nodded. "I wanted to tell you sooner, but I was ashamed." Jenna hiccupped again. "I know I shouldn't have gone to that party, but Callie said it'd be fun. And…and I only had one drink, Mama. Just one. Then I couldn't remember anything but bits and pieces and pain and Harlow came in and—"

  Mrs. Burke had gotten on her knees and was frantically brushing the hair from Jenna's face. "Jenna, relax, baby, relax," she said, cradling her close. To me, she asked, "You were there?"

  "Yeah," I answered, softly. "And yes…I saw who it was. Fought him, actually…kind of." I shrugged.

  "Who was it?"

  "Don't," Jenna interrupted. "Don't, Mama. It doesn't matter."

  "Of course it matters, Jenna. If you know who it is, we can do something about it." Mrs. Burke spoke softly, reassuringly stroking Jenna's hair. She fell silent against her mother. "Now who was it?"

  "Andrew Cooper," I answered after a moment of silence.

  "Carl Cooper's son?" Mrs. Burke asked, stunned. I was stunned myself. I hadn't realized she would know who he was. But then again, the entire town seemed to know who the Coopers were.

  I nodded. "I've told Jenna, I will testify in court if she chooses to press charges." I told Mrs. Burke seriously. I'd also given thought to telling her about Jake, but I couldn't speak on whether or not he'd testify too. Though he'd been there and helped prevent it from being a lot worse than it was, for me anyway, and had helped me get Jenna home…I hadn't even talked to him yet about the possibility of testifying.

  "Thank you so much," Mrs. Burke said, tears running down her own face. "Jenna, baby, we'll figure this out, okay? Don't worry, you aren't in trouble," she added, speaking into Jenna's hair.

  I felt awkward standing there, watching them embrace. "I'm…gonna head home. Okay, Jenna? Call me if you need anything."

  She nodded, or at least I thought she did. I put my boots back on and scooped up my bag, looking toward the living room one last time. I could hear Mrs. Burke gently speaking, calming Jenna. I couldn't help but feel an ache and a tug in my heart as I thought about my own relationship with my mother.

  Jenna didn't live insanely far away from where I lived, but it was quite the trek through all the snow. Had I not had a massive fight with Mom before school, I would have called and asked for a ride. Stubbornly, I pressed onward, shivering.

  The walk gave me plenty of time to think. I thought about how Mom had reacted to learning about Iain. I thought about Iain, and my feelings for him, which grew stronger every day. I hadn't realized just how strong my feelings were until our relationship had been jeopardized. I thought about Jenna, and about the Coopers.

  There was so much going on in my head that I didn't think there was enough space to absorb anything else.

  I was nearly home, about a block away, when a big blue Ford 150 came barreling from behind me. I heard the squealing of tires and glanced behind me in time to see it dangerously close to me. I recognized the truck instantly, although the driver was a blur. I leaped sideways at the last possible second, falling into the muddy, slushy, snowy ditch hard enough to knock the wind out of my lungs. Gasping, I sat up and stared after the truck. It kept driving as if it never nearly run me over in the first place.

  "Are you fucking kidding me?" I couldn't stop myself from yelling as angry tears spilled over. "What the fuck is with today?" I tried to stand up, but I had twisted my ankle in the jump. Of course. I couldn't just nearly get hit by a truck, and not just any truck but a truck that looked exactly like Andrew Cooper's. I also had to injure my ankle enough to not be able to walk on it. I could feel it swelling already, my boot digging painfully into it.

  Tears nearly blinding me, I pulled my phone out of my coat pocket and called my mom.

  She was there in less than five minutes, parking horribly on the side of the road and running down into the ditch to me.

  "Harlow! Are you alright?" she asked, looking positively terrified.

  "I'm fine; the truck didn't hit me. I just twisted my ankle or something jumping out of the way."

  "It's broad daylight! How did the driver not see you?" she fretted, trying to examine my ankle through my boot.

  "Oh, I think he saw me alright," I muttered angrily.

  "What are you talking about?" Mom asked, staring at me.

  "It's a long story. I'll tell you if you help me out of this cold ditch. I can't feel my ass anymore."

  Mom tossed my arm around her shoulder and pulled me up, helping me climb out of the ditch. She opened the passenger side and I slid in, tenderly lifting my ankle and wincing when I accidentally set it down too hard.

  "We're going to the emergency room," Mom declared, slamming her door shut and starting the engine. I nodded, figuring that was probably a good idea. I watched her for a moment, taking in her tired eyes and the worry lines creasing her face. There was a sadness in her expression that only I seemed to bring out. Guilt overwhelmed me.

  "I'm sorry, Mom," I whispered, looking at her.

  "No, I'm sorry, Harlow." She sighed. "I always knew I'd failed you the first time. I failed to protect my baby. But I hadn't realized I'd failed you a lot more after that."

  "It wasn't your fault…any of it," I told her.

  "Being a mother is tough," Mom told me. "When things happen to your children, you can't help but feel the weight of guilt at failing to protect them. Maybe one day you'll understand."

  "Maybe," I said distractedly, forcing myself to not even entertain that thought. I bit down on my lip again, thinking that I should tell her about Jenna and Andrew. I wasn't used to sharing things with her, though.

  "As for Iain—" I started to say.

  "Don't," Mom instructed, lifting her hand. "Right now, I'd like to just get you to the hospital. I can't even think about that."

  I nodded, feeling a little disappointed. She still sounded ashamed. I stared out the window, willing myself to not cry. While I wasn't ashamed of what Iain and I had, I was ashamed of the circumstances and how it made us both look.

  Mom pulled into the hospital parking lot and helped me inside.

  * * *

  I ended up spending four hours in the waiting room to find out that I had a sprained ankle. I missed my shift at the diner and was told to use crutches and take it easy for a couple of weeks.

  After I got home, Mom helped me into bed and I grabbed for my cell phone and the card that Mike Turner had
given me. Iain had texted me, demanding that I call him immediately. I listened to it ring, my heart pounding in my chest loudly.

  "Officer Mike Turner," he greeted, his voice full of bored authority.

  "Officer Turner? It's Harlow Jones…I—" I started to say, taking a deep breath.

  "I remember you." Mike's voice had changed, softened a bit. "How are you?"

  "Not so good…" I answered honestly. "This afternoon, I was nearly hit by a truck that looked a lot like Andrew Cooper's truck."

  "That's…interesting," Mike said heavily. "Are you alright?"

  "I have a sprained ankle, but am otherwise okay. I dove out of the way before it could hit me," I told him, drawing in a shaky breath. "The thing is…I think he's stalking me. Trying to get me to leave town. And I'm not sure what I should do."

  Mike took a deep breath himself. "Hang tight," he answered seriously. "Don't go anywhere alone, ever, and constantly be aware."

  "That's the only advice you have?" I asked, feeling aggravated.

  "I'm collecting evidence," Mike said in a hushed tone. "But all the people who could potentially help end up getting run out of town. So I need you to stay local and not let them get to you. Don't go anywhere alone. Don't put yourself in jeopardy. Any more issues arise, call me immediately, at the scene of. Program this number into your phone," he instructed.

  "Okay…" I trailed off, feeling overwhelmed.

  "And be careful," Mike added.

  Although I was off work for the week, the next morning I still went to school. I didn't want to fall too behind with exams looming in the near future.

  "What happened to you?" Jenna demanded, catching me walking alongside Jake in the hallway. She stared pointedly at my crutches.