"Thomas," said Pete.

Smiling in surprise she opened her door. "Hi!" She looked down at herself, laughing softly. "As you can see, I just got out of the shower. Please come in."

Pete walked in her apartment and tried to get his mind off the fact that Clarice was naked underneath her robe. She smelled incredible and the thin cotton molded itself sinfully over her body. He took a deep breath. This was going to be one of the hardest things he'd ever have to do.

"Can you wait a couple of minutes, while I change into some clothes?" Clarice said sweetly.

"No. Don't bother, I won't be here that long," he said coldly.

Clarice stood still. "What's wrong?" She asked faintly. Her heart began banging against her ribs. Thomas was dressed, well… differently. He looked tough and remote. A black leather jacket was worn over a tight black T-shirt. He had on black jeans with heavy boots. A thick silver chain was hooked on his belt loop, holding his keys. His hair was long and wild looking, like he'd run his fingers through it repeatedly. The scar, which added character to his face, stood out. Tonight, it made him look… sinister.

Pete bunched his jaw. "I can't see you anymore," he said abruptly.

Clarice took a step back. "Why?" She blinked several times. She could feel the tears coming. Her chest rose and fell rapidly.

He lifted one eyebrow. "Why? Because I don't want to, that's why." He laughed slightly. His smile was white and cruel. Inside, he was breaking apart. "I don't owe you any more of an explanation than that, Clarice." His gaze was steady and cool.

She put her hand to her throat. "I know you don't mean that Thomas," her voice was trembling uncontrollably.

Pete shook his head in amazement. "You don't know me at all," he said indifferently.

Clarice shook her head. "You could not have kissed me the way you did, if I didn't mean anything to you."

In two quick strides he was in her face. He yanked her to him. He laced his fingers through her hair and held her head steady. He brought his mouth on hers, kissing her hard. He slanted his open mouth across hers and thrust his velvety tongue in her mouth. He pushed her against the wall and ground his hips into hers. He was rock hard.

Clarice moaned and wrapped her arms around him. He pulled her arms from around his neck and stepped away from her. He casually ran his tongue over his lips and shrugged. "I kiss a lot of women. It doesn't mean a thing. You don't mean anything to me, Clarice. It was just a kiss. If you wanna have sex, Hey, you'll get no objections from me. But, it'll only be a physical release," he said matter-of-factly. His face was closed and shuttered.

Clarice's face was leeched of all color. She was unaware of the tears running down her face. "Please… just go," she whispered.

Todd turned around and squeezed his eyes shut. He walked out the door slamming it behind him. He was shaking so badly he could barely walk. He jumped on his black and sliver Kawasaki 1100. He revved the motor quickly and took off.

Peter Manning stepped out from behind a tall redwood. He looked up at Clarice Anderson's apartment and smiled. "Gotcha!" He whispered.

Todd flew down the dark streets as fast as the powerful bike would take him. Once he got on Interstate 101, he jumped on it, reaching 110 mph in about ten seconds flat.

He wore no helmet and the wind cut through him like a blade. He didn't care if he died. He hurt the one person in the world that cared about him.

We did what we had to do Todd. You know that. She wasn't safe. Not with Manning out there.

God, the devastation on her face would haunt him for the rest of his life. He didn't think it was possible to fall in love with some so utterly and completely. What he felt for Téa and even Blair paled in comparison to what he felt for Clarice. It wasn't based on money, or trickery, or lies. He loved her for the good and decent person that she was.

The engine's throbbing whine was the only thing he could hear. The scenery passed by in a blur. He oughta just end it right now. He cranked the throttle, and the bullet bike was up to 120 mph in an instant. He was no good to anyone.

There was a hairpin turn up about ten miles ahead. He'd be reaching at any time.

Don't Todd. I am you and you are me. Don't give that motherfucker the satisfaction. For once in your miserable life, BE A MAN.

"Fuck you!" He screamed. He was sick of everything. People accused him of having no feelings. He felt EVERYTHING. He didn't want to feel anymore. He wanted oblivion, he wanted death.

What about Starr, Todd? You gonna leave her too? With no one to protect her? Bullshit. BE A MAN.

Todd slowed the bike down. 100, 85, 60, the speed dropped off until he was at a reasonable 45mph. He navigated the turn expertly and rolled off the freeway into the shoulder and let it idle. He was out of breath and trembling. It was the second time in his life that he came close to ending it.

I am you and you are me.

"What does that mean!" he shouted. His voice echoed throughout the mountains eerily. There was nothing but silence and the pounding of his heart. He sat there and slowly came to a decision. He was not a coward, he was not a quitter, he was who he was.

"Did you hear that Dad?" He shouted. "I will not let you destroy me!"

He revved the engine and pulled off the shoulder. He needed to think. He was gonna destroy that bastard before he destroyed him.

Todd Manning had no idea how bad things were going to get.

Peace and Love,

VTW