Collide

by J. C. Hannigan

  I'd gotten in touch with Mike once more before leaving with Jenna's family, and told him that my friend would be pressing charges against Andrew for sexual assault, and that I was on my way to meet with her lawyer, as I was testifying. I'd given him the name and number of Thompson, just in case he had any evidence of his own that he wanted to share with him. Mike had been surprised and wary of my call, but thanked me. I didn't know if he would call Thompson, but at least he knew that something was brewing.

  I had never been in a lawyer's office before. Lauren's death had been open and shut. Rhys had been charged once he tested positive for being completely out of his mind on coke, and he confessed. As far as I knew, he was still in jail for manslaughter and driving while intoxicated.

  Finally, after nearly an hour, Jenna and her parents came out looking serious.

  "He's ready to see you now," Thompson's secretary said, motioning for me to go inside. I went, clenching the folder to my chest a little as the door closed behind me.

  "Good evening, Ms. Jones." Taylor Thompson smiled, shaking my hand. He was surprisingly young for a lawyer. I had pictured a portly elderly dude, like in the Stevenson & Stevenson Law commercials, but Taylor Thompson looked to be in his late thirties. His dark hair was just dusting with grey around the roots, and his eyes were bright and intelligent behind square framed glasses. "I've heard a lot about you."

  "I'm sure you have," I said, instantly uncomfortable. The whole situation was extremely overwhelming. I wished for the thousandth time that morning that Iain could have come in with me. I knew I would have drawn strength off his mere presence.

  "So, I understand you were there on the night of the incident?" Taylor Thompson asked, sitting down in his plush chair and getting right into it. He stared at me with an unwavering gaze.

  "Yes…" I said, still uncomfortable but fighting not to show it. "I was. I walked in on it just as the slime ball crawled off her. I saw his face. I know who he is."

  "Were you drinking that night?" Taylor Thompson asked me.

  "No," I shot back, a little angrily. "Even if I was, what does that matter?"

  "Because the defence will ask you that," Thompson said evenly, writing something down in his notebook.

  "Okay, well no. I wasn't drinking. I don't drink," I replied, honestly. "I saw, I got into a fight with Andrew and he came at me. My friend, Jake, came in and scared him off. Then Jake helped me get Jenna home."

  "Why didn't you take her to a hospital?" Thompson inquired.

  "Because she wanted to go home," I frowned, staring right back at him. "I wasn't going to force her to do something she wasn't ready to do."

  Thompson nodded, jotted something else down and looked at me again.

  "I have a friend that I work with, Danielle. Her best friend was also…raped by Andrew, a few months ago," I told him. I'd forgotten to tell Jenna that, but I'd get around to it.

  "Is she willing to testify?" Thompson asked, continuing to write on his legal pad.

  "No, she's dead," I answered stiffly. Thompson's eyes shot up at me. "She committed suicide shortly after the rape."

  "That's terrible," Thompson said, his voice nearly void of emotion. I nodded; it was all I could think to do.

  "Andrew has also almost run me over and has tried attacked me twice while I've left my place of work," I added after a moment of silence that stretched too long for my comfort.

  "Did you report it or press charges?" Thompson looked up quickly again, keen interest in every feature on his face.

  "No," I shook my head. "Well, the second time, when he jumped a friend of mine, I gave a statement, but I'm not sure what the police did about it. Probably nothing. Andrew Cooper's father is the Chief of Police."

  "So we've heard." Thompson sighed. "Look, next time Andrew comes near you, you call the police. Even if his dad is the Chief of Police. Keep reporting it; they can't keep covering it up."

  "Okay." I felt like I was getting reprimanded by a fatherly figure for not doing my chores or getting good grades. It was a little unsettling.

  Thompson sighed. "Would your friend…Jake, was it?" I nodded, and he continued, "Would he go to trial and say that he'd been there?"

  "I think so," I answered.

  "Will you?"

  "Of course, why else am I here?" I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

  "That's great. Anything you can get me is extremely helpful."

  "You could probably talk to Danielle about Rachel, the girl who committed suicide."

  "Would she cooperate in the trial?" Thompson looked back up at me, waiting for my reply.

  "I could ask," I answered. I was sure that she would, but I didn't want to commit her to something without even talking to her.

  "Okay, good."

  "When is it going to trial?" I asked, watching Thompson as he continued to write on the note pad.

  "As soon as I get my case together. It's my top priority right now, but I don't want to rush things. It could take anywhere from a month to three." Thompson answered, looking back at the paper.

  I nodded, standing up. Thompson reached into a cardholder and selected one, handing it to me. "That's my card. Please call if you have anything else."

  I left his office, seeing Jenna and her family still waiting for me.

  "We're going to head back to the hotel; did you need a ride?" Mrs. Burke asked, standing up and sliding into her coat.

  "No, thank you, my cousin's waiting for me here," I answered, smiling.

  "Okay," Mrs. Burke nodded, looking at Jenna and her husband. They both stood up and Mr. Burke reached out and took my hand.

  "I want to thank you again for doing this, Harlow," he said, his voice serious.

  "Don't mention it," I replied, a little uncomfortable. Mrs. Burke smiled at me, and gently put her hand on her husband's arm.

  "Text me, okay?" Jenna ordered. "When you get to the campus."

  "I will," I assured her. She surprised me by wrapping her arms around me in a hug.

  "Thanks again," she whispered. I felt a tear on my ear from her eye. She pulled away and smiled, her eyes still moist.

  I walked with them out into the office lobby, then watched them head to the underground parking lot. I called Iain, telling him I was ready. Ten minutes later, his car pulled to a stop in front of the office building. I walked toward it quickly. A car that looked like Mr. Burke's Impala drove by as I opened Iain's car door. I thought I saw Jenna's blonde locks, but couldn't tell if they'd seen me, or worse, Iain. I ducked inside, my heart racing. I hadn't even thought to double check my surroundings, as my mind had been so clouded with thoughts of the meeting with the lawyer.

  "Everything okay?" Iain asked, looking at me.

  "Yeah," I muttered, pulling my hair out from under my jacket and twisting it up into a bun to give my hands something to do. Iain reached over and took my hand gently in his.

  "Okay," he said simply, pulling away from the office building. I watched it in the rear view mirror until I couldn't see it anymore. Iain squeezed my hand gently, bringing my attention back to him.

  "Sorry, what did you say?"

  Iain smiled. "I asked if you wanted to go out for dinner?" he said patiently.

  "Oh," I thought about my earlier scare. "Could we order in?"

  "We always order in," Iain frowned slightly. "But alright…if that's what you want." He pulled into a parking spot at the hotel, and we got out of the car. I grabbed my bag and followed him inside. He took my hand and led me toward the elevator. He was working his jaw, a sign that he was aggravated. The moment the elevator doors closed, I shoved him roughly against the wall and started to kiss him intensely, determined to melt his aggravation away. He moaned, his hands pulling my jacket closer to him roughly. All too soon, the elevator dinged at our level. I gave him a mischievous smile and pulled him out of the elevator, laughing at the surprised expression on his face.

  "What room are you, Mr. Bentley?" I purred. His eyes heated, and he quickly led me down the hall to the room. He
pulled out a key card from his jacket pocket and held the door open for me. I walked inside, turning to face him and backing up slowly as I started to take off my jacket and shoes. He shut and locked the door behind us, staring at my little show. I pulled my jeans off and slipped my shirt off from over my head. I was wearing a new matching set of red lace thong and bra. I could practically see Iain salivating. I motioned for him to come over, and he did, slipping out of his own clothes.

  I forgot, quickly, about my paranoia. In fact, I forgot almost everything but the feeling of Iain's lips on my body. Afterwards, as we lay entangled in the bed, Iain tracing kisses on my collarbone, I thought about it again. I winced.

  "I think Jenna maybe saw us. Maybe. I don't know. I don't know if it was Jenna, or if she just saw me, or what…" My eyes were closed when I said this. I was scared of his reaction. He did pause and lift his lips slightly, but then I felt him shrug and go back to kissing me. "You're…not worried?"

  "Can't do anything about that right now." Iain shrugged again, shifting so that he was supporting his weight on his left arm and running his right hand along my outer thigh. "Besides, maybe I want people to know," he added, pulling me forcefully onto him. I laughed, straddling him.

  "You can't mean that," I whispered, leaning so that my face was inches from his. My hair fell like a curtain, obscuring the view from either side.

  "I do," Iain answered honestly, looking at me with sincerity. "I want more than anything to let everyone know how much I love you."

  My breath caught, and I stalled. He ran his hand up the small of my back, gently stroking. "Obviously, I know there are many implications and I can't…but I still want to." I relaxed a bit, satisfied that he wasn't going to announce to our English class that he was in love with me. "But I have been thinking…"

  "About?"

  "About after you graduate," Iain answered, smiling. "Would you like to come with me?"

  "Come with you where? Where are you going?" I stammered, confused.

  "I'm not going anywhere, per say," Iain replied, still tracing his hands along my body. "In June, my post is finished. I'll be looking for a new job…and I want to look wherever you're going to go to college."

  "I…I don't know where I'm going," I said, taken aback. I couldn't help but picture it…him and I, living together. A couple in every way, not just in the ways we already were a couple. An involuntary smile touched the corners of my mouth, but I tried to repress it.

  "That's alright," Iain smiled. "I'm not saying you need to make a decision now…just let me know a few months ahead of time when you do." He paused. "Unless you'd rather—"

  "No, I want…that," I cut him off, kissing him and leaning onto him. He hungrily kissed me back, his hands still tracing gentle patterns up my spine. I pulled away gently and laughed against his lips.

  "What?" he asked, smiling.

  "I'm hungry," I answered. "Let's go get something to eat."

  "Really?" Iain's eyes lit up, and I smiled.

  "Yeah, really," I said, grabbing my clothes. I dressed quickly, pulling my messy, tangled hair up in an equally messy high sock bun. I fixed my makeup while Iain waited patiently on the bed, fully dressed. It still amazed me how patient Iain constantly was. He never made any quips about me taking forever, like most waiting boyfriends would do…even if I'd only taken 10 minutes. Rhys used to complain whenever I wasn't immediately ready to go with whatever plan he had, which usually was just attending some party with Lauren and Alex. Rhys had never taken me out on dates.

  I forced that thought down. I didn't want to think about him while I was with Iain. I wouldn't let those memories sour our weekend. Instead, I looked at Iain's face, and felt that happy glow returning to me.

  "I'm ready…" I told him, standing in the bathroom doorway. I had freshened up and hoped that I looked a little older than my actual age. Iain appraised me with a devious grin on his face.

  "You look gorgeous, as always," Iain stood up. I smiled at him, slipping my leather jacket on, my sour mood replaced. "I'm curious about that jacket…" Iain confessed, smiling ruefully. "You always wear this…it must be important to you?"

  "It is," I said simply, turning my back to him so I could grab my purse off the floor. "It belonged to my dad. It's the last thing I have of his."

  "Well, you wear it beautifully," Iain remarked, his breath warm on my neck. I smiled again, taking his hand.

  "Let's go, I actually am seriously hungry," I told him, dragging him out of the hallway. We walked to the elevator, hand in hand, and out to his car. Darkness had fallen, and I took comfort in that. I don't know why I was still paranoid…I was miles away from home, but Jenna and her family were still in town…somewhere. I chewed on the inside of my cheek, worrying about this. I highly doubted they'd be spending a romantic evening out, as Iain and I were about to, but I still felt a prickly sensation on the back of my neck. Iain soon had me forgetting my worries though, as he kissed me passionately while opening the passenger door to his car. Hungrily, I ran my hands through his constantly mused hair, kissing him deeply back and moaning softly.

  "Keep that up, and we won't make it anywhere," Iain said, chuckling, gently pulling away. He kissed me once more, then released me. I fell back into the seat with a genuine smile on my face. I watched as he walked around the front of the car, sweeping off the snow that had accumulated when we'd been in the hotel. Ottawa seemed to get hit just as badly as North Bay did. I was toasty warm in the car, thanks to Iain's remote starter.

  When he'd finished clearing off the car, he jumped inside quickly, rubbing his hands together to warm them.

  "It's chilly out," he laughed.

  "Well, it's winter," I pointed out.

  "Where do you want to go?" Iain asked, putting his car in drive.

  "I don't know…aren't you from Ottawa? Don't you know all the great places?"

  Iain looked at me, as if he wanted to say something but thought the better of it. "Yeah, I do," he said instead, pulling out of the parking spot and driving. I wasn't familiar with my surroundings, and have a horrible sense of direction regardless, so I had no idea what direction we were driving in. We arrived at a fancy looking restaurant ten minutes later. Iain easily found a parking spot while I tried to casually search for an Impala. I came up blank in my search; no Impalas in sight, so I relaxed a little. I glanced at Iain, and he was staring at me with a smile on his lips. I leaned over, kissing him gently.

  "Seriously…I'm hungry. Let's go," I smirked, opening my door. Iain laughed.

  "Let it be known that I should never forget to feed you," he joked, catching up with me and taking my hand. We walked into the warmth of the restaurant.

  "What is this place, anyway?" I asked, impressed with the modern décor.

  "It's my favourite Thai food place." Iain smiled. "It's gotten a few updates since the last time I've been here…" He glanced around, taking in the modern lightening.

  "Can we get a secluded table?" I whispered to him when we came up to the hostess. He nodded, repeating my request to her. She led us to the back of the restaurant, to a small table almost tucked away in the corner. Iain smiled at me, squeezing my hand encouragingly. It wasn't like we'd never gone out to dinner in public before. We had in Niagara Falls. But I still felt uneasy.

  "What if we run into someone you know?" I whispered after the hostess left to get our drink orders. I kept my eyes on his, gauging his reaction.

  "It's not like I'm going to introduce you as my almost 18-year-old student," he shrugged, a slight smile playing on his lips as if he found the whole thing humorous, and maybe he did.

  I rolled my eyes. "Well, obviously." I looked at the menu, searching out for something that looked appealing to me. I'd actually never had Thai food before. The only Thai place near our apartment in Toronto had been sketchy, and North Bay definitely didn't have anything Thai.

  "I recommend the Thai Pad Siew," Iain suggested, winking. "You'd like it."

  "I bet you're right," I told him, closing my menu an
d smiling coyly at him. "You seem to know exactly what I like, Mr. Bentley."

  Iain's eyes smouldered, as they usually did when I called him Mr. Bentley. He cleared his throat, about to reply when the hostess appeared with our drinks. He'd ordered Tiger beer, and I had asked for some strawberry fruity non-alcoholic fruity drink. I took a sip of my drink while Iain ordered for us. I found myself staring at Iain's beer curiously. I knew it was imported from Thailand.

  "Have a sip," he told me after he'd poured it expertly into his tall beer glass and let it settle.