When We Collide

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When We Collide Page 15

by A. L. Jackson


  “A toast to the happy couple,” Justin, one of Blake’s oldest friends and now business partner, said as he raised his beer.

  Everyone lifted their bottles.

  “May the two of you have the best of lives...and never grow...bored.” Justin lifted a suggestive brow, and Grace turned red and buried her face in Blake’s neck before she peeked back out at us.

  “That, my friend, will never happen,” Blake assured him as he looked down at Grace who was clutching his shirt, grinning up at him. He kissed her hard, in a way that told all of his jeering friends to go to Hell.

  I laughed and toasted with my near-empty bottle. “Here! Here!”

  Blake tipped the head of his bottle in my direction without coming up for a breath.

  In the distance, a truck engine whirred and drew near, tearing my attention from my brother and future sister-in-law. It spun a path of anxiety through my muscles.

  No one should have mentioned this gathering to anyone else but this small group, but there was no mistaking what I heard. Over the summer, I’d memorized the sound of Troy’s truck. Every time Troy would barrel up to wherever I happened to be and I had to prepare myself to sit and watch Maggie with him, the distinct hum of that engine had been etched deeper and deeper in the recesses of my brain. It was almost Pavlovian, the instant anxiety, the hatred that surged and constricted my lungs.

  I wanted her here, but not like this.

  Dropping my head, I tugged and tore at the lone tuft of grass growing near the fire pit. I fought the urge to look up when I heard her soft footsteps out of sync with Troy’s.

  Shit.

  I jerked my head and rubbed my eyes with the back of my hands, trying to get myself under control, knowing I had to play it cool or one of these days I was going to give us away. I just didn’t know how much longer I could take this before I snapped.

  And somehow I knew when I did, I was going to lose her.

  I pretended I couldn’t sense the smirk on Troy’s face when he looked in my direction as they came up to the group. It was like he knew exactly how much it hurt me to see her with him and was happy to rub it in. He’d seen the way I looked at her. I wondered what he’d think if he knew she was sneaking out at night to see me rather than him.

  From across the fire, I felt her, could sense the way her body settled onto the dirt floor. This time I couldn’t stop myself from looking up and searching for the solace I found in those sweet brown eyes.

  Through the writhing flames, I met her gaze.

  Did she see how this affected me? Did she understand that every second she wasn’t mine was torture?

  Her eyes drifted closed as her head lolled to the side. The motion was soft and laden with affection.

  I closed my eyes and coaxed myself down from the instinct to rip the possessive arm Troy had wrapped around Maggie’s chest clean from his body.

  Instead, I pictured her in our spot, snuggled against my side where she was safe and protected. I imagined the smile that she reserved for me and the way her fingertips felt as she ran them down my face and across my lips.

  Pictured her where I was sure she was imagining we were now.

  I sensed the shift, the rupture in our peace.

  “Knock it off.” It came out hushed, meant for no one but Troy, but with the sound of Maggie’s voice, I yanked my head up and found them in a position so similar to the one they’d been in the first night I’d seen her. Troy’s mouth was at her neck, kissing the same spot I had just imagined my mouth to be—the same spot where my mouth had been last night.

  Possessiveness turned my stomach, and as desperate as I was not to witness this, I couldn’t tear my attention away.

  Troy laughed against her skin and grabbed her breast over her shirt. “C’mon, Maggie...why do you always have to be like that?”

  Hatred burned hotter than the fire that thrashed between us, savage flames that swept through my blood.

  No. This I couldn’t handle. I dug my nails into my palms and tried to sit still.

  Maggie threw Troy’s hand off and stood, stumbling away from the group. She hugged herself across her middle, her head hung.

  I sat in chaos, my mind and spirit screaming that I defend her while everyone else carried on as if nothing had happened. A lover’s spat paid no mind.

  Troy got to his feet, standing with his fists balled at his sides, glaring at Maggie across the space where she faced away from the fire not more than twenty feet away.

  “Stay away from her,” I said too low for anyone else to hear when Troy began to creep up behind her.

  Their argument was low and one-sided, Troy’s words unclear as he breathed more poison into her mind, as she cowered and slowly turned around to face him. I sat frozen as I watched her take one step back, shake her head hard, and squeeze her arms tighter around her body.

  I was ready to spring into action if he moved one inch closer to her.

  But instead, I froze. The words she spoke next should have been indistinguishable, but I heard them as if I’d been standing at her side.

  “I don’t want to be with you anymore…I never have. Please, Troy...just...leave me alone.”

  For a moment, I rejoiced, before the crack of Troy’s hand across her face rang out in my ears, blurred my vision—though somehow I’d never seen anything clearer than the shocked, horrified expression that took over Maggie’s face.

  Then something snapped, and I saw nothing except the bastard who’d hurt her.

  Troy spun around just as I rushed up behind him. In the same motion, I cocked my arm back and hit him under the jaw. Pain exploded in the bones of my hand, and with it, I felt a thrill of satisfaction. Troy’s head rocked back.

  Maggie screamed.

  As Troy righted himself, he swung, catching me against the right temple. The blow split my vision, my consciousness tossing in a bid to concede. I shook it off, remembered why I was here. I would fight for her. Die for her if I had to—if it would make her better—if she would live.

  “You piece of shit…you want to hit a girl?” The words scraped from my throat, raw and abraded. I wheezed as I sucked in air, pulled back then rammed my fist into Troy’s nose. Blood gushed as the tissues gave and Troy fell to his back on the ground.

  I lunged at him, fisted Troy’s shirt in my hands. I yanked him up and slammed him back down. “Huh? Answer me…answer me!”

  Troy spit a mouthful of blood in my face. “What do you care? She’s just a trashy little cock tease.”

  In a violent explosion of pent-up fury, I felt my sanity slip. My fists landed in a constant barrage of blows to Troy’s face.

  “You fucking asshole…I’ll kill you…touch her again, and I swear to God, I will kill you.” Beneath my hands, I felt skin tearing, bones buckling. Foggy voices pressed into my awareness, imploring.

  A scream.

  Shouting.

  I didn’t care.

  I drew my arm back again, struggled against the hands holding it back, fought against the arms around my waist. I kicked as I was pulled off of Troy. My shoe grazed the asshole’s face.

  “I’ll kill you,” I screamed again, my legs flailing as I was dragged back and thrown to the ground beside Blake’s truck. “I’ll kill you.” This time it was a whimper.

  Around me, there was so much movement, what felt like horror and panic.

  In the fog, I heard Blake shouting. “Justin…get Maggie out of here.”

  Above the chaos I heard her sobbing.

  Suddenly Grace filled up my vision, kneeling in front of me, whispering words I couldn’t comprehend. Through the haze of adrenaline, I tried to focus on Grace’s face. She brushed my hair back.

  “Shh…Will…it’s okay…it’s okay.”

  It wasn’t until then I realized I was mumbling, incoherent words pouring from my mouth, words that only registered in my mind.

  I lost her.

  “Get him in the truck.” Blake grabbed me under the arms and hauled me to my feet, his movements frantic as h
e pushed and pulled at me.

  Grace crawled in beside me, cradled me in her arms, and rested my head in her lap. I twitched uncontrollably as the flood of adrenaline wept from my body.

  I lost her.

  I’d become that person, one who couldn’t control their fists or their rage. Someone to fear.

  Blake gunned the gas, flew into a tailspin as he whipped the truck around in the dirt clearing. We slid before the wheels found traction. The truck rocked as it centered and Blake bolted down the narrow road.

  Tires squealed when they hit the pavement, the engine roaring as Blake pushed it as fast as it would go.

  “Shit,” Blake screamed and punched the steering wheel. The sound hung in the darkness of the cab as we sped down the road. “Goddamn it, Will!”

  I felt Blake shake himself off, his eyes landing on me. “Is he okay?”

  Holding me closer, Grace ran her fingers through my hair again. “No…I don’t think he is.”

  Somehow I knew the words were directed at me and not to Blake.

  “Here.” Grace led me to a chair at the small kitchen table and placed an ice pack against my eye. We were all whispering, our movements checked and subdued in the quiet house. The last thing we needed was for Mom to walk in on this.

  “Thanks,” I mumbled as I held the pack to my eye and slumped over in the chair.

  I looked up at Blake who stared down at me, standing two feet away, his face contorted in worry. “Are you sure you’re okay? I really think we should take you to the emergency room.”

  “I’m fine,” I said for the fifth time in about four minutes. I dropped my attention back to the ground and released a weighted breath.

  “You lost your damned mind back there, Will…I’m worried about you.”

  I looked up. “He hit her.”

  Blake ran his hand through his hair and shook his head. “I know, but—“

  Grace cut him off. “He stood up for a girl who needed help, Blake. He doesn’t need to apologize for that.”

  Blake shook his head again, paced back and forth in the same two-foot radius before he exhaled. “I have to get Grace home. I’ll be back later. You sure you don’t need anything?”

  “Yeah…I’m fine.”

  Blake headed out the back door. Grace hesitated in the doorway, studied me in a way I didn’t quite understand. “Goodnight, Will,” she finally said before she followed Blake out and closed the door behind her.

  I dragged myself upstairs to my room and quietly latched the door. I lay back on my bed and held the ice pack to my throbbing eye.

  Everything throbbed, really.

  My knuckles, my face, my heart.

  I’d fucked it all up, losing it, scaring Maggie the way I had.

  The most terrifying thing was I knew I wouldn’t have stopped.

  I dropped the ice pack to the floor and turned to my side, facing the wall.

  Moonlight soaked the room, the shade open wide. Shadows from the tree outside played across the walls.

  Even though it was still hot and muggy outside, I felt chilled. Cold. I curled up. Hated Troy. Hated she wasn’t mine. Hated that I’d probably ruined any chance that she’d ever be.

  I thought maybe I dozed, but I wasn’t sure, when I was stirred by the tapping on my door. I groaned and rolled to my stomach, mumbling into my pillow, “I’m fine, Blake. I’m trying to sleep.”

  The door creaked when it was opened. I looked over my shoulder, frustrated Blake wouldn’t just leave me alone.

  “Maggie,” I whispered and rushed to sit up. She took a tentative step forward and latched the door behind her. In the dim light, she stood across the room from me. Her face was streaked in tears and dirt, her hair a mess, her eyes—I swallowed, wishing I didn’t have to witness the sadness found there.

  “How’d you get in here?” I asked as I slowly got my feet, my movements calculated, worried she might run if I made the slightest wrong move.

  She averted her gaze to the tree just outside.

  “I waited for you.” Her voice was all wrong, strained, nothing like my Maggie. She still wouldn’t look my way.

  “Maggie…” I moved in her direction.

  A sob tore up her throat. “I waited.”

  “I’m so sorry. I thought…I didn’t think you’d want to see me,” I pled as I took another step. “You know I would never—”

  I couldn’t stand the thought of her being scared of me.

  She squeezed her eyes shut. Her movements were small and jerky when she shook her head. “You think I don’t know that?”

  With one last step, I backed her into the door, unable to resist the comfort of her presence. Her hands were flat against the wood, her head turned the farthest to the side and downcast. “Maggie, look at me.”

  “Did he hurt you?” Her abrupt question was a whimper, her watery eyes darting up to meet mine before they searched my face.

  I slowly shook my head, tilting it to the side.

  Her hand trembled as she reached out to touch my tender eye.

  Warmth sped across my skin.

  “It’s nothing.” Nothing.

  “I can’t stand the thought of you getting hurt for me,” she said, her expression pained, telling me the very opposite of what I felt. I’m not worth it.

  I brushed my fingertips over the small cut to the side of her bottom lip before I pushed past our boundaries and brushed my lips over it.

  Did she understand? Did she feel anything close to what I felt when our skin met? Did she understand, to me, she was the only one who was worth it?

  Maggie gasped, sagged against the door as she twisted her hands in my shirt. “William.”

  “I’m so in love with you, Maggie.” I hesitated, both palms inches from her face, before I took her face in my hands and kissed her again. “I love you so much, I can’t see straight…can’t think straight.” I braced myself with one hand against the door and wrapped the other arm around her waist to bring her flush. I’d held her close, so many times, but never like this.

  My mouth captured hers, and I coaxed her lips apart. I swept my tongue across hers. So sweet. Everything I imagined Maggie would be. I dove in, sure I would drown. I’d waited so long to kiss her like this, to taste her warmth.

  A moan lingered deep in her throat, and her fingers dug into my hips as she tugged me closer.

  My body reacted, hit with a need unlike anything I’d ever felt. I pressed her against the door.

  “Tell me,” I begged against her mouth, kissing her hard. “Please, Maggie…tell me you feel the same.”

  Her hands slid from my waist and up to my chest. Then she nudged me away.

  I reeled back. I’d pushed her too far. Violated her trust.

  “Maggie, I...”

  The words died in my mouth as I watched the motion in front of me. She held her breath and closed her eyes, trembling as she reached down and grabbed the hem of her shirt. She pulled it over her head and dropped it to the floor.

  “Maggie...no.” I tried not to look, didn’t want to take advantage of this screwed up night that had spun out of control. I was desperate for her, but not like this.

  “Please,” she said, “I love you, William. You’re...everything.” She swallowed and blinked. “Please...I want it to be you.”

  Desire tripped through my body, and I dropped my gaze to her plain white bra, the soft swell of her breasts exposed, the creamy skin of her neck a milky glow in the moonlight.

  “Please,” she said again.

  “Maggie.” It was a plea. Please stop. It repeated as a chorus in my head, though I knew there was no way I could resist her. She was all I wanted. Everything.

  Maggie.

  I was shaking as badly as she was when I stretched out a trembling hand and touched her, ran my fingers from her chin and down the length of her delicate neck. I splayed my palm flat across her chest—searched her face as I did. A shiver rolled through her body, and her heart thrummed against my hand.

  “Is this okay?�
� I asked, moving a little closer and my hand a little lower.

  “Yes,” she breathed.

  My fingertips grazed over her breast and down her stomach, before I flattened my palms against her skin and slid them around to wrap my arms around her. My body was flush with hers, her bare skin singeing me through my clothes. I wanted her so bad it ached, but I couldn’t stand the thought of becoming another mistake for Maggie. I moved my hands to cup her face, and I pulled away and stared down at her.

  “Are you sure?”

  Those eyes filled with the complete trust she’d given me over the last two months—filled with the love she felt for me.

  “I want it to be you,” she repeated.

  Maybe it was wrong. Maybe she needed more time. Maybe there was no amount of time that could ever make this fucked up situation right.

  But what I did know was there was no amount of time that could ever change how I felt about her.

  I rested my forehead against hers, breathed her in. Then I kissed her. Our mouths moved slowly, learning the other, steadily building in intensity. My fingers traced up and down her arms. Her hands fumbled under my shirt and pressed against my stomach.

  “Come here,” I whispered, stepping back to lead her by the hand to sit on the edge of my bed. “Lay back.”

  Maggie bit her lip and her face flushed, but she didn’t hesitate to scoot back into the middle of my bed. She rested on her elbows, watching me.

  I never took my eyes off of her as I knelt on the floor and tugged her shoes from her feet. That tenderness was there, shining in her eyes, mixed with a disquieted apprehension.

  My head spun with the magnitude of this moment, with what she was trusting me with.

  “Promise me you’ll tell me if you want me to stop,” I murmured. I placed my hands on the outside of her calves and ran them up her legs as I crawled onto the bed.

  Her skin prickled and she quivered beneath me, but she nodded and whispered, “I promise. But I want this, William. I want you.”

  I undressed her slowly, taking my time—giving her time.

  I slid my hands under her back and unfastened her bra. I pressed my mouth to her shoulder, my fingers playing at the straps. Sitting back, I slowly dragged them down her arms and dropped her bra to the floor.

 

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