A Compelling Motive (h.s.)

thirty five

My feet pump against the concrete of the park, my eyes glancing around my surroundings. I take my lower lip between my teeth, my nose releasing the steady breathing I have in my pace. The pace I'm at is not my usual speed; taking it easy to keep an eye on her.

The space between us has been painful; my mind always reeling with ways to try to see her. It's been months, almost a year. It has been forever in my mind, but I keep close tabs on Rhiannon. She's moved away from the town we lived in and moved almost an hour away. My work takes me everywhere, but I always try to find ways to go see her. Even if it's just from her window as she reads, I need to see her. She's the love of my life; I know that.

I follow the blonde ponytail, her change in hair color recent. I don't mind; she's beautiful regardless. Her body has slimmed down even more than it already is, concerning me that she's not eating enough. But her blue eyes won't change. Her eyes are what drew me in, even more so after I saw her figure walking up the stairs at the event I met her.

My phone rings and I keep running, answering the call. "What," I say, Q talking on the other end.

"Find Mouse and get my fucking money," he says, and I hang up. I don't need to respond; all I need to do is get the job done.

It pained me that I had to knock him out in order to safely get Rhiannon out of the house. He laid unconscious in my room for almost an hour before he woke up. That hour was the worst hour of my entire life. That speaks wonders considering the shit life I've lived. The resentment of my family, the drugs, Mariana's death; all sucked. Then school brought me the joy when I started writing, making the most of my degrees. When my first book became such a hit, I knew I needed to find substance to life. So I started helping at the university, write, and attend the events. I'm thankful everything happened the way it did though, because it led Rhiannon into my path.

I take one last look at Rhiannon before running the other way, picking up my pace and running to the alley. Stopping at my car, I change into jeans and my boots. My hand reaches for the gun below my seat, shoving it into my waist. I lift my hood onto my head, the beanie causing the hood to stay. It's not long before I reach the hide-out, greeting the guard.

"Viper Ten Ninety-Six," I firmly say, the man opening the door. I walk in, smelling the weed and taking notice to the prostitutes in the room.

"$9600," I spit at Mouse, his gold teeth shining as he looks at me.

"H, long time no see," he snickers, my jaw clenching.

"Cut the shit. Give me the fucking money and I'll be out," I say, his arms lifting to remove their place on the girl's shoulders. They look at me and I can tell they're checking me out. It's repulsive.

"I got $7500, and I'll throw in a few tabs for ya," he grins, my eyebrow lifting.

"I don't think you heard me," I start, stepping closer. "I said $9600. Not a fucking penny less. And keep your shit tabs. I don't need your laced shit."

"My boy, I think you do," he bargains, standing up. He looks me in the eye and holds out the packet of his new drug.

"It's the best. Makes your world turn upside down. Life gets fucking great," he says, and I knock it out of his hand. He just smirks, shaking his head.

"Have your girls take it. Give me $9600 and you can get back to fucking," I state, and he just stares at me.

"H, I'm not going to give you your fucking money till you take my tabs. I got $7500," he starts, and I slam my fist into his face. His girls scream, my face tight with anger.

"We know how to play this game, Mouse. When are you going to fucking learn?" I ask, his nose bleeding. It's my 'special' quality: making the person bleed on the first punch.