Page 161 of Collision
What the hell is going on in his head? I open the door, and Thomas barrels in. He grabs Logan by the neck and slams him against the wall. The crashing sound makes my hands fly up to cover my mouth.
“What the fuck did you do to her?” he yells, inches from Logan’s face.
“I-I didn’t do anything to her.” Logan is struggling to speak, but Thomas’s fingers are tight around his throat and prevent him from doing so.
“Thomas, stop! He didn’t do anything to me!” I pull on his arm, hitting him several times on the bicep. But it’s no use because Thomas cocks back his right arm and sends a punch flying right into Logan’s face. He slumps to the ground immediately, his nose bleeding.
“If I find out you laid a finger on her, you’re dead.” He punches Logan again in the stomach, before grabbing him by the hair and forcing him to tilt his face up. “Dead,” he repeats. Then he turns to look at me, his face aflame, and for one moment, I am afraid of what he might do. He grabs me by the arm and drags me out of the room. In the hallway, I see some students peering out their doors, trying to see what’s going on.
“Thomas, slow down, you’re hurting my arm.” I try to pull free from his grip, but he ignores my protests. When we get to his room, he shoves me in forcefully and, after closing the door, he slams his fist into the wall.
“Tell me, Vanessa, what the fuck is wrong with your brain?” he yells, venting all his rage.
I dig my hands into my hair, unable to believe what’s happened any more than he can. “Thomas, listen to me, you have every right to be—”
“I have every right to be what? Mad? Pissed off? Furious? I am so much more than that, I’m out of my fucking mind! I’ve been calling you for hours!” The veins in his thick neck seem ready to burst.
“Because I didn’t hear the calls, I-I fell asleep and I didn’t—”
He interrupts me, skewering me with his gaze. “You what?”
I swallow. “I-I fell asleep,” I stammer, continuously pulling my hair behind and in front of my ears in little nervous movements. “I-I have no idea how it happened. I was very, very tired. I remember curling up in the armchair and then that was it, I collapsed.”
He stares at me in shock. He stabs a finger at me and warns, “This is the last time you see him. That you talk to him. That you so much as say hi. That you do anything you can think of with him. The last time.”
“Thomas, you have to believe me, he didn’t do anything to me, honestly.”
“I don’t give a fuck what you think. If you had listened to mebefore, we could have avoided all this shit!” Thomas is right. I was wrong. I was wrong to go see Logan; I was wrong to stay there. “I know, I…I’m sorry.”
“I’m taking you home,” he declares harshly.
I stare at him in bewilderment. “What? No!”
“It wasn’t a question,” he snaps.
I shake my head firmly. “I-I don’t want to go home.” I want to stay here with him. Calm him down, reassure him, clear up this whole this thing, fall asleep with him, clasped in his arms, surrounded by his smell and his warmth.
“I don’t want you here.” The cold, authoritative way in which he says it makes me shiver. My heart starts pounding in my chest, as I feel that familiar burning sensation in my eyes.
“Thomas.” I say his name desperately.
“Move.” He grabs a set of keys from the counter and walks out the door without giving me a chance to say anything.
On the back of his motorcycle, I cling to him despite feeling how detached he is. As we race along the asphalt, ignoring the speed limits, the wind whips my tears away. We stop in front of my driveway, with the engine still running. Thomas rests one foot on the ground to help me off the bike. I unbuckle my helmet and hand it to him. He hangs it on the windshield, lowers his visor, and, without giving me even one more glance, he hits the gas and disappears into the night.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper to myself, alone and hurting in the middle of a deserted street. I feel my tears flooding uncontrollably. The wind picks up, some damp leaves flutter around me, and the first raindrops streak down my face, merging with my tears. My stomach is tight, in a painful clench.
And he’s gone…
