A Compelling Motive (h.s.)

thirty two

"I'm so done with you, you stupid bitch!" Amelia yells, slamming her fist into my face. I stumble back and fall into the table, her vase of flowers falling onto the ground.

"Just because your boyfriend threatened me doesn't mean you fucking punch me!" I yell, grabbing her wrist before it flies at me.

"Harry broke his nose!" she yells, but I feel the blood drip down from my own.

"Just like I'm going to do to you," I grit, her eyes widening. I shove her to the ground and climb on top of her to make sure she doesn't kick me. But I can't bring myself to punch her. I can't even bring myself to slap her. She's glaring at me and she is disgusted as the blood from my nose drips onto her shirt.

"You're fucking warned, Amelia. I'm done with this family," I grit, shoving her. I walk out of her penthouse and begin walking down the street. My hand cups my nose and I try to make it to my apartment building but I stop when I see a man in front of my building. He seems to be watching me, but I simply ignore it. There's a lingering fear but I can't be suspicious of everyone I see. I'd get nowhere in life.

The minute I'm in my apartment I run to the bathroom to clean myself up. My face isn't nearly as bruised as I would have assumed, but then again, Amelia isn't the strongest person in the world. She's extremely skinny, not that much force is packed into her punch.

There's a knock on my door and I finish cleaning myself up, taking a moment before answering the door. When I do, I stare at the man before me and he puts his hand out.

"Hello beautiful, my name is Q," he says, and I feel my breath hitched into the back of my throat.

"Hello Q, how can I help you?" I ask, trying to swallow the fear I have of the man in front of me. There's a teardrop tattoo below his eye and if I remember anything about my 'street smart' knowledge, it sometimes symbolizes someone killed another.

"I've heard you have contact with my boy," he says, and I watch him saunter into my apartment. I'm too scared to object.

"Your boy?" I wonder, and he takes a seat on my couch. There is something seriously wrong going on. And I have no idea what to do.

"My baby boy Styles. Best dealer I had. Quite a punch on that kid too," he smiles, his gold teeth proudly displayed. I'm drawn to the diamond plated ones on the bottom set of teeth.

"I-I," I stutter, and he just laughs.

"Don't try excuses, beautiful. I know you are very much in contact with him," he says, and then his eyes flicker to the chair in the living room.

"Sit," he tells me, and as if I were a puppy, I listen to the command. My body is situated in front of him, and he leans his elbows onto his knees.

"Now, my boy paid his debts off and did his work. He was finished, and I respected that. But times are difficult, and I need him back," he explains, and I fold my hands on my lap. I have no idea how to sit. My mind is going extremely blank but there's one thing I hold constant: I don't want Harry going back.

"So, there are two ways we can do this," he starts, and that's when my heart starts to hammer and my breathing quickens. Nothing good can ever come with an ultimatum.

"Either you lure him to call me to do me favors," he says, and then leans closer to me, his hands setting on the arms of my chairs. "Or I use you to lure him to me."

I suck in a breath and stare into his cold blue eyes. "So I will give you my card to give to him. If I don't get a call from him in two days," he starts, standing up and leaning so close to me that I can nearly feel his forehead on mine.