A Compelling Motive (h.s.)

sixteen

No answer.

Nothing appearing on my phone except the sound of her voice. Her voicemail is met for what seems to be the millionth time, my feet pacing the floor. There hasn't even been an answer when I've knocked on her door. No one at work knows where she is, and she just may be on the brink of being fired for not calling in.

I toss the phone to the couch and I carry myself to the other side of my office. Taking a deep breath, I grab my computer and open it. Typing in her name, I try to find her. It's not something I'm proud of, knowing how to hack and find people, but there were times I needed it.

Her phone is in a place I don't recognize, but the name of the owner sounds familiar. A girl by the name of Tiana lives here, and I vaguely recall her being mentioned. It's her friend.

I take a moment to collect my thoughts then the top of the laptop is shut. After retrieving my phone, I slip a shirt on over my head and I grab my coat. My feet carry me to the garage and I get into my car, igniting the engine and speeding out of the driveway. Clutching the steering wheel tightly doesn't not even begin to relieve the tension. The frustration building in me is the same frustration I had when she found out I kept a close watch on her.

She is the only girl I've even come close to letting know me. I've never wanted a woman until I laid my eyes on her. I'm not going to lose that feeling I get every time I see her; she's mine.

When I reach the address, I scope out my surroundings. It's dark, the moon high in the sky. There's a light rain out and I see a light on in my destination. My jaw is clenched and I take a deep breath, trying to find her. I don't like not knowing where she is.

I get out of the car, locking it behind me. The bottom of my boots press against the steps, the rain falling on me. The knock on the door echoes in my head, awaiting someone to open the door. My lips press together and I knock again after a moment of nothing, then the door swings open.

Her friend stands in front of me, her eyes puffy and hair slightly disheveled. I'm not in the slightest concerned about her appearance; I just want to know where my girl is.

"Harry," she says, knowing who I am in an instant.

"Where is she?" I ask, her eyes staying locked on mine. She knows and I'm not leaving until I'm met with an answer.

"Harry, please," she stresses, and I step in. She looks ready to cry and I fear she's hiding her away from me. I'm not letting her take her away from me.

"I need to know where she is," I demand softly in an attempt to stay calm.

"Community Memorial Hospital," she whispers, choking out a sob. My heart pounds against my chest and I fist my keys, quickly turning and running out the door. The rain is heavy against me, soaking my hair and clothes in seconds. I get in my car, slamming against the gas pedal and driving as fast as I can to get to the hospital.

My mind is racing with scenarios and I weave in and out of the cars moving much too slow for me. If I can't get to her now, I don't know what may occur. She's the only thing I ever think about anymore; the only thing I want and need to take care of.

I'm forced to park in the back of the parking lot, my hand shoving the door shut. Locking the door, I run as fast as I can to the entrance. I'm forced to wipe my hair out of my eyes, running in the rain proving to slow me down.

The woman at the desk looks at me as I run into the hospital, her eyes looking up at me.

"Rhiannon James," I say, my voice firm. "Where is Rhiannon James?"

Her fingers type on the computer, searching for the name. I'm anxious, dripping water all over the desk and floor.

"Wing C, room 232," she says, but grabs my arm before I start running. "She's in intensive care. You may not be able to see her."

My jaw clenches, my breathing heavy, and I rip my arm away from her. I follow the signs, rushing through the halls. Doctors and nurses stare at my appearance but I don't have any mind to think anything of it. My eyes glance at every room number and I start nearing hers.

I grab the handle of the door, opening it and looking inside. The pain that overcomes my senses is something I've only felt once before in my life. A pain that I never wanted to relive again. This is a sight I've seen only once more and I never wanted to happen again.

Tubes and machines, beeping and oxygen pumps, the sight of Rhiannon being aided by machines to breathe. I drop to my knees beside her bed, my hand reaching for hers. The hope brought back to me when I feel warmth in her hand eases my ache slightly, but the sight still holds such pain.

"Darling," I nearly choke out, not knowing what to do. The last time I've sat in this situation resulted in an outcome no one predicts; a devastating one at that as well.

"She's doing well," I hear, my head turning to see a doctor. "I aided to her as soon as she rolled into our doors. She was awake, and let me tell you, I've never seen the strength she had in such a time before."

I stand, his hand extending to me. We exchange a handshake as well as names and he sits down, my body following suit.

"What's your relation to her?" he asks, my hand running through my wet hair. I hate labels, but there is nothing else I can say right now.

"I'm her boyfriend," I grumble, my eyes looking back over to her. Her eyelashes lay so softly against her cheeks, but it's the tube beneath her nose that bothers me most. She can't breathe on her own.

"I take it you don't know what happened," he says, and I shake my head. It bothers me how hard it was to find her, but with her not having a strong relationship with her family puts me at a standstill. I can't reach out the family members; instead I had to hack into databases to find her phone at her friend's home.

"When she came in, she was alone. She kept looking around, but we assured her she's here and safe. I asked her, and she said a car swerved and hit her. She landed on the pavement pretty hard. We found her lung slightly damaged due to a broken rib, hence the oxygen, and a broken arm. Her legs are fine aside from bruising, but she's going to be okay. Little banged up but she will be okay," he assures me, but I don't pay attention to anything after.

Another car accident. The first was fatal, and the second was almost as bad. I don't know what I would have done if the outcome would have been like the first. Though Mariana and Rhiannon are different people, I still have feelings. And my feelings for the two girls are very different.

Mariana was a tell-tale toxic relationship. She introduced me to cigarettes, sex, and everything centered around her. Rhiannon is simply the opposite. She may have the dangerous habit of cigarettes, but she's innocent. Men haven't tainted her mind and I like that. She is the first to catch my eye in a long time.

I extend my legs, standing to move towards her. She has a small amount of stitches on her forehead and there are bruises beyond belief on her face and arms. My hand reaches up, brushing her hair away from her neck. I notice a small cut against the nape and my eyes rake over her sore body.

"I'll leave the two of you," I hear the doctor, and without an answer from me he leaves.

My hand pulls a chair up to the bed and I lean my head on the pillow beside hers, my hand holding her bruised cheek so lightly. There's a feeling in my stomach that didn't happen the first time I sat in this position. The last time, she was cold. This time, she's warm with life. The warmth is felt when I kiss her forehead so softly.

I close my eyes, listening to the beat of her heart on the machine. I unknowingly feel a small drop of water fall from my eyes, not knowing what else to do. It's not crying, just small tears falling.

"Just promise me you'll wake up," I whisper, not knowing what may happen over the night. I just rest here, moving to hold her hand instead of her sore cheek. Her soft fingers are held, hers not holding mine back. It crushes my heart knowing that the one girl I finally found is hanging onto her life, but it's the world's way of giving me what I deserve. I'm terrified of the day she finds out my past, of who I truly am, but when that day comes is the day she decides if she stays or walk away. There is nothing I wouldn't do to prove to her that she knows me and that I'm not who I once was.

But I'm different now. There are things I've done, things I've accomplished and that I'm proud of. Those are the things I want to share with her. I have a new start at life; a life I want her in.