I’ve checked the parking lots of ten hotels so far looking for her car, and nothing.
I don’t know if I’m wasting my time here. She could have left town, but I have to keep looking.
I pull up at the stop sign at a junction. Feeling lost, not sure which way to turn, I rest my forehead against the steering wheel.
A second later, a horn blasts out from behind, frightening the shit out of me. My eyes hit the rear-view to see a car behind.
“All right! I’m moving!” I call out. I shift into gear and take a right.
It’s not until I’m half-way down the street, I realize I’m on my way out of town. Maybe she has left, and this is my sub-conscious telling me.
Feeling disheartened, and like a complete failure, I start to make a U-turn, taking one quick glance around to make sure all is clear, and that’s when I see her car. It’s parked outside a seedy looking motel.
My heart stops.
Then restarts with a thundering gallop.
Swallowing my nerves, I spin around and drive into the motel lot, parking by the office.
The guy behind the desk looks like a complete stoner. He doesn’t even look away from the TV when I walk in.
I hate that Mia felt she had nowhere to stay but here. She doesn’t belong in a place like this. She belongs with me.
“Hey man.” I rest my hands on the counter. “I was wondering if you to do me a favor. My girlfriend and I had a fight—” Girlfriend. That’s the first time I’ve called Mia my girlfriend. Funny when I’m not even sure what we are anymore. “—and it was a real big one. I really need to talk to her, but she’s not answering her cell.”
“Then I’m guessing she don’t wanna talk to you,” he says flatly without taking his eyes of the TV.
I curl my hands into fists.
Ignoring him, I say in a clipped tone. “Look, her car’s parked up front. I know she’s staying here. I just need you to tell me what room she’s staying in.”
Technically he can’t, I know this. But this isn’t the most reputable of establishments. So he’ll either tell me, or be a complete dick. From the look on his face, I’m figuring the latter.
His lips curl as he smirks. “You’re talking about the cute blonde with the tight ass, drives a car as hot as she is? Was here the other day as well – stayed for just the day.”
She stayed here the other day?
All my muscles lock, rigid tight.
“I’m guessing for a nooner,” dickface continues. “And going by the look on your face, it definitely wasn’t with you.” He laughs. “Yeah, man. You’re not getting shit from me.”
I reach over the counter and grab hold of his shirt, dragging him off his chair. “You will tell me what room she’s in, right f**kin’ now,” I hiss in his face, “or I’m gonna kick your ass, then I’m gonna bang on every f**kin’ door of your scummy motel, dragging out all your regular business – the ones who don’t want interrupting ’cause they earn by the hour – until I find her.”
He opens his mouth, but I stop him before he starts.
“And before you cry about calling the cops, my dad is the cops—” Okay, so that’s a lie. But I’m playing all I got here. “—so don’t waste your f**kin’ time ’cause they ain’t coming out for your low rent dive, or a piece of shit like you. Now tell me what f**kin’ room she’s in!”
He grabs his shirt, pulling it from my hand, freeing himself. “Fine!” he huffs, breathing heavily. “Whatever! Like I give a shit! She’s in room 106.”
“See, now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
I slam the door, and head down the walkway toward her room.
One-oh-six. I rap on the door and wait.
Nothing.
I look through the crack in the curtains. The room’s dark except for the flickering TV, but no sign of Mia.
I knock again, louder, calling her name through the door.
Waiting, I listen for movement.
Still nothing.
“Mia!” I bang again. “I know you’re in there. Your car’s out front. I just need to know you’re okay.”
I press my ear to the door, listening for noise. Then I hear her … faintly.
“Mia!” I call again, my heart pounding.
“Jordan.”
Without a second thought, I rear back and slam my foot against the lock. It gives in one kick.
I tear into the room, and I see mess everywhere. Food wrappers, containers … just trash, everywhere.
I hear her groan. Bathroom.
She’s on the floor. My stomach bottoms out.
My eyes take in everything in less than a second. Dried blood on her forehead matted into her hair. What looks like chocolate, smeared on her face.
Then the smell hits and that’s when I see the vomit in the sink … and the smashed mirror above it.
I drop to my knees beside her. “Mia. It’s me, I’m here. Jesus, baby, what happened?” I take hold of her hand. Her knuckles are torn up, dried with blood – the mirror.
Fuck. What have you done to yourself, baby? Tears sting my eyes.
“Jordan…” she groans, her eyes flicker open, looking out of focus.
“I’m here.” I press my hand to her cheek. “I’m gonna get you some help.”
“No…” she mumbles. “… be fine. Just give … min-ute…” Her eyes close.
“Mia, baby. Stay with me. Stay awake.” I gently pat her cheek.