When We Collide

by A. L. Jackson

  A breeze stirred, setting the trees in a gentle sway, and I whispered, “Please.”

  The back door slammed, and I jumped and straightened. An incredulous smile pulled at my mouth at the feigned guilty expression Blake wore as he approached.

  “Sorry about that.” He smirked and I laughed.

  When the locks popped, I opened the door and hopped in. “Sure you are.”

  A grin took up Blake’s entire face when he looked over his shoulder to back out from the driveway. “Nah…you’re right. I’m not sorry at all.”

  I felt Blake sober, scratch his chin. “So, uh, I know we haven’t gotten to talk more about it, but have you thought any more about what you’re going to do?”

  I stared out the windshield, that disturbance I felt every time I’d seen Jonathan bubbling up in my chest.

  “It’s all I can think about.” It came out in a flow of helplessness. “I saw him yesterday,” I admitted. Even though the attorney had warned me to lay low, after two days, it’d proven too much, and I’d followed them to the park after school. Jonathan had run by me, his feet hesitating in recognition when he’d passed by the bench I sat on. I would never forget the way I felt when I heard his voice.

  Jonathan had whispered, “Hi,” in return to the broken one I’d given him. His innocent face held so much curiosity, so much kindness, and so much fear.

  Maggie’s spirit had surged across the space from where she watched us across the play yard, wrapped me up with her watchful eye, alarmed but filled with longing.

  “I’m William,” I’d said. With an unsure hand, I reached out and ran my fingertips down the boy’s cheek. My son’s cheek.

  He’d grinned and looked to his mother for approval. Six years old, and the child had no idea who his father was.

  She’d softly waved him back, holding my gaze as he trotted back to her across the field.

  I cut my attention to Blake, hoping he would understand how much it had affected me. “I talked to him for the first time.”

  Surprise widened Blake’s eyes and then sympathy softened them. “Oh man…that’s gotta be hard. Where?”

  “At that little park over by Mom and Dad’s.”

  Blake frowned as if it were the strangest place for me to have run into the child. He had no idea what that place meant to me. How sad no one really understood how truly important Maggie had been to me or how she’d changed my life. I wanted Blake to know.

  In the glow of the dashboard, I distracted myself by picking at the seam of my jeans as I exposed myself in my loss.

  “You know...we were supposed to get married.” I didn’t look up, but just as I always had been able to, I sensed Blake’s reaction, the shock that tensed his body as he tightened his hold on the steering wheel, the silent curse from his mouth.

  “She was supposed to leave with me that morning,” I continued, slowly shaking my head as I lost myself in the memory...how I’d pictured her excitement...how I’d pictured her my wife. “I had some romantic notion of surprising her by going to Las Vegas on the way back to California. I was going to rent the nicest hotel room I could get with my credit card because I knew she’d never experienced anything like that before.” Sorrow I’d held in for so long worked its way free. It had always been there, by day, masked in anger, and by night, manifested in my dreams. Now, it flooded me with images of what should have been. “God…I just wanted…” I snorted and stared out the side window. “It was stupid.”

  At the stoplight, Blake pinned me with a penetrating stare. “You really believe that, Will? That’s love. It can make us do some crazy shit, but it doesn’t make it stupid.”

  I met the intensity of my brother’s face. I nodded in doubtful acceptance. I’d spent too many years hiding it all, blaming my naivety for the pain. I couldn’t do it anymore. I set it free in a torrent of remorse. “I was so angry that night. She told me she was staying and I lost it.” I swallowed. “I took it out on you and Mom. I was jealous of you and Grace…I wanted what you had…I wanted to be loved back. It was selfish, but I had no idea how else to deal with it. God, Blake…I wish you knew how sorry I really am. I didn’t consciously want to hurt you guys, but I did it anyway.”

  Blake visibly blinked back the hurt flared in my admission then shook his head in understanding. “I get it, Will. Yeah, you hurt me, and you hurt Mom and Dad, but it makes sense now.” Blake accelerated through the light, glancing in my direction. “You may have taken off, but you came back when we really needed you. You were there for Mom when Aunt Lara passed. You made my girls fall in love with you. You stayed.” His brow knitted up in held-back emotion. “None of what happened in between matters, Will. You’re still my best friend.”

  A quiver twitched at my chin. “After everything I’ve done, I hope you know I always felt the same.”

  For a moment, Blake’s expression tightened as he shook his head. “I just wish I would’ve noticed sooner. It makes me sick I was so blind to something that was right there all that time.”

  “We kept it a secret, Blake. You weren’t supposed to know.”

  One eyebrow peaked in objection. “Grace knew.” A heavy breath filtered into Blake’s truck. “You know, after everything came out, she told me she’d known that whole summer something was going on between you two.” Blake raked a hand over his face. “How’d I miss that, with everything that had happened? I feel like I failed you.”

  Frowning, I regarded my brother. “That’s ridiculous, Blake.”

  Blake shrugged. “Well, I do.”

  I turned to watch the small town I knew so well pass by, catching faint glimpses of my reflection through the window. “It’s crazy that after all this time, nothing has changed—I still want the messed-up girl you warned me to stay away from.”

  A heaviness filled the cab, Blake’s tone regretful. “Did you ever think I might have been wrong?”

  Closing my eyes, I thought of how I’d spent the last six years trying to convince myself that my brother had been right. I lifted my face to Blake, wishing someone could understand my torment. I was so close to completely opening up to him about the dreams I’d been having about Jonathan, but it wouldn’t form as words in my mouth.

  Blake turned right into one of the three bars in town and eased into a spot toward the back of the nearly filled lot. “It’ll work out, Will…it has to.”

  It didn’t slide past my attention that Blake didn’t sound so certain.

  “Two Buds, please.” Blake leaned in close to the bartender so she could hear him over the din of the bar.

  I rested my back up against the bar with my elbows on top, looking out over the crowded room where I was sure I sorely stuck out. Country music blared from the speakers. Girls who barely appeared to have passed the mark to make them women paraded around in cowboy boots, wearing cut-offs so short they were almost obscene. Men in trucker’s caps and Wranglers appreciated them from the stools or from the chairs they’d turned backwards to straddle or flirted with them from across the pool tables.

  I took the beer Blake offered. He patted me on the back and lifted his bottle in the air.

  “To better times, little brother.”

  I tipped my bottle Blake’s direction. “To better times.”

  With all of the oppressive questions of the last years put behind us, Blake and I settled into the indulgent atmosphere. We fell back into the easy way we used to be, partook in friendly jeers and unrestrained laughter. Familiar faces stopped by to say hello and joke. Blake filled me in on all the town gossip, telling me who was with who and introducing me to the few who were new to town.

  I relaxed into the buzz I felt coming on, welcomed the dulling of the sharp edge that continually cut through my spirit. Blake laughed, chatting with one of the guys who worked for him, and dodged the attention of a few girls who didn’t seem surprised when he balked at their advances.

  I sat back, forced myself to relax, to hang tight like Tom had told me to do, until Troy and Kurt walked through the door.
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  I wasn’t even really surprised.

  The foul presence seemed expected, as if it were something I could not escape.

  Still, hatred slammed into me so hard it sucked all of my air from the room, streaked my vision in reds and blacks. That same hatred raged back through the brown eyes piercing me through when I finally raised my face to meet the contention. It was so thick, I wondered if Troy was really as oblivious to mine and Maggie’s relationship as I’d believed him to be. No question, Troy had reasons to hate me, the blow to his pride so severe it was doubtful an asshole like him could ever have recovered.

  Defensive intuition told me it went deeper than that. He suspected something, I just didn’t know what.

  Turning my attention back to our small circle of friends, I battled to ignore the man who claimed Maggie, the man who claimed my son, the one who stole. I had to keep it together. I couldn’t risk forever with the slip I was heading for tonight. I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting to keep it at bay. All I saw was the loss that deadened her eyes, heard only the words she had spoken. I didn’t. Trapped in her sea of pain, I couldn’t breathe. I gripped my beer bottle, steadied myself with a hand on the bar.

  Blake nudged me with his elbow. I opened my eyes to see him toss me a tensed look, gesturing with his chin toward the door where Troy had just entered.

  I tilted my head in silent conversation. I already know.

  Three beers later, the feeling never faded. It had only wound me in obliterated anger. Dizziness crowded at the edges of my sight, slurring my thoughts and mind. I set my beer on the bar and pressed my fingers to my temples in an attempt to chase it away. I leaned in close to Blake’s ear, shouting above the deafening noise.

  “Hey, man…I’m going to get some fresh air. I’m not feeling so great.”

  Concern distorted the relaxed expression on Blake’s face. “You okay?”

  “Yeah…I just need to get out of here.”

  Brows drawn, Blake nodded once in understanding. “I’ll be right behind you. Let me pay the tab and tell the guys goodbye.”

  I slithered through the bodies writhing on the makeshift dance floor, desperate for a reprieve. I had to get out of here before I lost all coherency, before I did something so fucking stupid I would ruin every chance I had in getting Maggie and Jonathan back. Face to the ground, I fought the crushing need to take out whatever or whoever had hurt her. Couples jumped out of my way as I cut a direct path through the middle of the bar, their expressions ranging from irritated to frightened by the near derangement I felt tipping me over the edge.

  Pushing open the heavy door, I gasped for the cool night air, sucked it in, willing my nerves to subside. Hands fisted in my hair, I inhaled as deeply as I could, filled my lungs, and released it in a whispered, “It will be okay, it will be okay.”

  The parking lot was oddly quiet, my senses jerked from one extreme to the other. Strains of distant music still thrummed through my veins, while the pulse of the sleeping night seeped into my bones. I squinted into the darkened distance. In the stupor of too many beers and harbored hatred, I tried to focus in on where Blake had parked his truck among the thirty others. I swayed to the left. Shit. I ran a hand over my face to orient myself then staggered out into the maze of trucks, wishing I’d not allowed myself this slip of control.

  There it is. I eyed the distinct tail of Blake’s work truck.

  Footsteps quickened over the loose-graveled pavement behind me, faster than I could make sense of them. A blinding crack echoed too close to my ears, then staggering pain tore through my skull and split my vision. Nausea welled and my head spun. I rocked forward, and the ground rushed up to meet my face before I had time to break my fall. Blackness crawled over my consciousness.

  Lights flashed, flickers of the softest grays, blacks, and whites. Images played as on a reel, pictures of perfection. Maggie danced, red lips stretched into the freest of smiles. She spun, the sun a bursting halo behind her head. There are my boys, she sang, stopped to stretch out her hand.

  Pain seared, shocked through the foggy haze. Oil and dirt clogged my senses as I struggled for a shattered breath, muscles twitching. Blood streamed from the gash on the side of my head and pooled in my ear, cut as a web of scattered trails down my face and neck. They dripped onto the pitted, rocky pavement from my chin. A metal pipe pinged to the ground, tipping back and forth in a slow roll an inch from my face.

  He panted near my cheek. Chills skittered across my bloodied flesh and raised the hairs at the back of my neck.

  “I’ll kill you,” came as a low threat near my ear, my words repeated from so long ago.

  And just like then, I knew I’d die for her if I could somehow set her free.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Maggie ~ Present Day

  I lay adrift, swimming at the edge of sleep and consciousness. I floated on William’s inescapable light. Blackened waters lapped at my skin as I dipped my mind into dreams that were almost a reality. Fingertips ghosted down my cheeks, sent me tripping through desire and stumbling into fear. Heart pounding, anxiety laced its tendrils around me as I found myself on a bluff, standing at the edge where I was left with no choice but to jump.

  Snatched back, pain shot through my scalp as I was lifted from sleep by a handful of my hair. Too disoriented, I had no time to block the fist that landed at the right side of my face, just below my cheek. I cried out and crossed both arms over my face to shield the next blow that connected with my forearm. Troy jerked me around to straddle my stomach. He wheezed through frantic breaths. The stench of beer and vileness spread over me in a blanket of derangement. Fists fell in a constant storm. I did my best to protect myself as Troy lost himself in a madness he’d never shown before. His attacks had always been perfectly calculated to exert his control, and I had always done my best to give him the least amount of satisfaction when he enacted it.

  But this…this whipped through the room as a violent explosion and rained down in incoherent rage. Gasping, I begged through a sob for him to stop. It was the first time I’d pled with him for any sense of compassion since that night.

  My pleas only inflamed him more.

  I tried to block it from my mind, to pinch my eyes shut and seal myself in the numbness where I’d survived my entire life, but I couldn’t find it. It was too stark a contrast from the adoration I’d experienced in the few short moments I’d allowed myself to indulge in William’s touch. The chance he’d offered too fresh and raw. The choice too bright.

  I’d allowed Troy to take everything from me, my hope and my son’s future.

  And I wanted it—God I wanted it—but I had no idea how to break free.

  Above me, Troy continued with his assault, belligerence overflowing as he swore again and again that he was going to kill me.

  It was in that moment I accepted if I stayed, one day he would.

  I glimpsed William in my mind, the need in his words, the tender way he watched my child.

  I tucked myself tighter under the protection of my arms. My body yielded in submission to the blows, while inside the lifelong war that had raged was finally won.

  I didn’t want this.

  I never had.

  Troy drew in rasping breaths, and his chest heaved as the strength left his body. Exhausted fists landed on my arms and another glanced the side of my head, his anger spent. In one move, he pushed me aside and stood from the bed, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. Then he turned and left me in a bloodied heap, curled up on my side in the middle of the bed, like the piece of trash he’d always wanted me to believe I was.

  Maybe to him, that was what he really believed.

  The back door slammed, and Troy was gone.

  Hot breaths wheezed from my mouth as palpitations jerked all the way to my core. I sucked in stale, soured air that hung in the room and turned my face into my pillow. I wept from the ache that throbbed over every inch of my body, for the humiliation I could never escape for allowing this to happen, and in distinc
t relief for the decision I’d made.

  Maggie ~ Late November, Six Years Earlier

  Huddled in the corner of the bathroom, I rocked myself, staring at the spot where sunlight crawled in through the gap at the bottom of the door. For so long, I’d felt nothing. I’d walked numb through the days and had lain lifeless beneath Troy night after night.

  I’d succumbed so easily, giving up on my first chance at joy. The next day, I had been waiting for Troy after he’d stripped the last shred of my dignity, just like he’d warned me to be. I had to protect my sister. She was the last thing in this world that meant anything to me. Troy had taken everything else.

  Holed up in his squalid apartment since, I had been nearly comatose. My days were spent on the couch, staring unseeing at the dingy white wall, while my nights were spent lost somewhere in the deepest recesses of my mind while Troy carried on as if we were a normal couple. Part of me knew there were times when he spoke to me, muddled words that things were finally how they were supposed to be, and that he loved me. Part of me knew his hands were on my skin. But the only real thing I had felt was the void, the place inside where William had touched me now a burdened reminder of what I had lost, and the only thing I could really see was the expression on William’s face when he’d walked away. That night, he appeared exactly as I felt—destroyed.

  Troy had made it so easy to believe I had no choice but to let William go.

  Placing my hand on my stomach, I felt a glimmer of something in my deadened heart. A purpose to go on. I should hate it, I knew, despise what Troy had planted in me, but I couldn’t.

  I didn’t know if it’d been an hour or three since I sank to the bathroom floor with the test in my hand. Slowly my mind seeped back to reality. For days, a nagging somewhere in my subconscious had told me what the test showed me now. This morning, I’d walked to the mini-mart up the street with the twenty dollars Troy had given me to buy groceries. While I was there, I swiped a test and stuffed it under my shirt. Even in the daze I’d lived in, I felt the guilt, the bundle of nerves that turned my stomach. Never once had I stolen anything, but I couldn’t chance someone seeing me buy that test in this town.