“Who?”
“Eric. I don’t love him and I told him so.” I rest my head against the window.
“What’d he say?”
I shrug. “Nothing.”
She reaches across and places her hand on my knee. “Guess that says more than if he’d fought, huh?”
“Mmhmm.” I nod.
“So what do you want to do?”
I pick up my head and give her a tired chuckle. “Let’s go get some fucking squash and strawberries.”
Chapter 22
Stepping out of Tosha’s car, I pause a moment with my eyes closed and chin lifted to the sky to let the sun invigorate me. When I lower my head and open my eyes, I’m staring at a produce truck that causes my head to spin a little.
“Tosh, look.” I elbow her and point to the truck that says “Manning Farms” on the side. No one in Ryker’s family farms, but seeing his last name is just the cherry on the day.
“Okay, now the universe is just fucking with you.” She laughs and links arms with me.
“No kidding, ugh, let’s get inside and buy enough greens to cleanse our auras along with our bodies.”
Once inside, Tosha tells me she has to place an order at the bakery. As she weaves through the crowded market, I head to the aisles and peacefully wander, placing items at random in my basket. I reach the frozen foods section and catch a glimpse of my reflection in the glass door. I look tired; the kind of tired that comes from deep inside. The kind of tired I’ve only felt once before.
*
I felt the splitting headache a few seconds before I peeled my eyes open.
“Hey,” Tosha whispered as she put her hand over mine.
“What the hell?” I turned to face her, squinting to try to keep my eyes in my head.
She kept her voice library-quiet. “You’re okay. You’re at the hospital.”
“What happened?” I asked, squeezing my eyes shut a few times, trying to pull a memory into focus.
“You don’t remember?” She handed me a cup of water and I lifted my head and sipped a bit from the straw while I tried to find my voice.
“I remember going downstairs with you, going back up to get my debit card . . .” I could hear the beeps measuring my pulse’s crescendo as a flood of images burst through the protective dam in my brain. “Oh . . . shit. Ryker . . .”
She nodded. “He pushed you, Nat. Down the stairs.”
I scrunched up my face at her. “No, he didn’t. I slipped—”
“Natalie, you don’t have to protect him anymore.”
“I’m not, Tosh. He told me he swallowed a bottle of Oxycontin, and then he started to get aggressive, but I ran. He grabbed me on the stairs and I pulled away too hard and fell backward . . . shit, has anyone called my parents?”
She looked like she sucked on a lemon. “Since it happened at school, they handled the phone call.”
“Great.” I let my head land back on the pillow. I knew they were going to be so pissed.
Before Tosha and I could sort out any more events, a nurse came in. After she took my vitals, she informed me that two police officers were waiting to talk to me about what happened. I asked Tosh to wait outside so I could speak to them alone.
A tall and lean Amherst police officer walked in. “Ms. Collins? I’m Officer Fox. My partner here is Officer Jackson.” He motioned to the slightly shorter woman to his side. “We’d like to ask you about what happened tonight.”
I nodded. “First, I’m really sorry about pulling that fire alarm. All the commotion it must have caused—”
“No,” Officer Jackson cut in with a smile, “that was an incredibly smart thing to do. You did the right thing.”
I spent the next several minutes piecing together what I could remember—which was most of it by the end of our discussion—and they took careful notes.
“So, you’re saying you “slipped” from Mr. Manning’s hold?” Officer Fox used air-quotes, and that annoyed me.
“No, that’s not what I’m saying, that’s what happened.” Officer Jackson’s eyes softened into something that looked like pity as I spoke.
Fox spoke up again. “Despite Mr. Manning’s violent history with you, you’re sure he didn’t push you?”
“First of all,” I sat up a little straighter, “I’m sure. Second of all, what violent history?”
Officer Jackson sat in the chair next to my bed. “Isn’t it true that Ryker pushed you outside of his house just a few days ago?”
I let out a frustrated sigh and told them the events behind that night.
“Thank you, Ms. Collins. You should get some rest. We’ll come see you tomorrow to talk to you about pressing charges.” Officer Jackson gave me a tight smile as she stood and headed to leave.
“Charges?” I asked, blinking the mess my life had suddenly become into focus.