Chapter 17

                                    

                                          
Chapter 17

One day, there will be no complication. And everything will turn out the way it's supposed to be.

HARRY'S POV

I pull up to Shay's dance studio ten minutes to half three in the afternoon. It's lightly drizzling as the car sits idle, and I tap my fingers on the wheel to a random tune in my head. The lot is fairly full so I assume multiple classes are in session.

Shay. What a stubborn girl. This morning, I woke not how I fell asleep. My arms were flung across the bed where Shay's waist would be. Where she laid with me last night.

I was confused at first. How did I not notice she's woken up? The clock next to me read half seven and I groaned. It was too early to wake up. But them my thoughts went to: where did she go?

I quickly got up, wide awake. I checked the bathroom and though it was empty, my hairbrush wasn't in place and Shay's clothes were not there. I heard a clatter from what sounded like the kitchen and raced there next. Sure enough, the dark headed girl was just straightening from picking up a spoon that was on the floor, I guess she dropped it.

I strode in, calling her out and asked what she was doing, but faltered when I saw that the bruises were even worse than the night before. The cuts have started to heal but still look like it hurt. She winces when she moves frantically around the room, quickly muttering that she was late, without stopping. I assumed that she meant work, when she was close enough, I halted her and she flinched as I placed my hand on her sore arm, which made me mentally cringe.

She wasn't use to getting hurt every other week, and it pains me to know that she was actually there in the alley instead of the events being a bad dream. Those men, Evan's men, were hurting her, bruising her pale skin, and ruining her perfect lip.

I fought with her about staying at my place and resting while I go into work for a few hours. She was relentless, trying to find loop holes and openings. She said if I locked her in, like I threatened, she would call Brit to come bust her out. Apparently the eldest twin knows how to pick many kinds of locks. When I said that I could talk to Brit─ and her other friends for that matter ─she went with the full on pity party. I'm talking the puppy dog eyes, sulking lip─ even though it was already pouting from the cut that lines down the centre of her red lip ─and bowed head. She said she couldn't miss today, any day but today. When I asked why, she couldn't give me a valid reason except that it was her mum's studio and she should be there.

I damned her then and there for using the only weapon I couldn't fight her against completely.

After a long and agonizing─ for her ─deliberation, I agree but with a few rules. One: I'd be driving her there and back to avoid running into any unwanted company. And two: she can't go anywhere outside of the studio. She agreed a little too easily─ I guessed that she really needed to get there ─and said that we'd have to stop by Jess's house to pickup her bag since I told her she would stay with me until she decided to go back home. She was unsure about that but too tired to fight again.

I dropped her off in front of the studio with: "If any other guy so much a touches you, they'll be dealing with me" and a swift peck on her unharmed cheek.

The ten minutes passed by, and as people exited the building I noted that none of them were Shay. She gets done with work at 3:30, I sure of it. I wait for another minute and when she doesn't walk through the doors, I hop down from my Rover and start for the door.

As I turn the corner from the hallway that opens into a grand white foyer, I spot Shay's brown, wooden desk sitting in its usual place, but Shay isn't in the chair like other times. While looking around the limited space, I stroll to her desk with caution.

The computer screen is in sleep mode, a moving space background plays until I slightly touch the mouse. I slowly sit down in rolling chair, slouching, as I watch the home picture of the computer pop up.

I don't know what I expected really, but it's not what I would've thought. I first recognized Shay, but different, younger─ maybe fifteen ─with shorter hair as she sits on the ground against the base of a tree. She's smiling, like those times were simple and easy. I hardly ever see that kind of smile. My eyes find the two adults next, standing on the left of Shay, leaning on the tree, beaming. I know one of the two, her dad, but he too has changed. It's obvious that his head of brown hair has deteriorated over the ears because the last time I saw him he was sporting many gray hairs and a bald spot. In the picture he looks like a family man with the warming smile, but all I could think about was: this man had hit Shay only 24 hours ago.

He's the kind of guy that needs to take care of people.

I trust him with my life. 

And yet I still don't believe Shay's words from yesterday. Why, if she trusted him enough, did he betray her? I find it absolutely revolting that a father hit his own daughter, his blood.

Before I dwell on it too long, I moved on to the woman by his side. Immediately, I think of Shay, The same exact hair colour, the same crystal blue eyes, even the same grin and cheekbones. This must be her mum, I think. It's amazing how much Shay resembles her mother, almost a perfect replica, except Shay has her father's nose. Shay's mum was medium height, still towered by her husband, much like I tower Shay. I see that that's where Shay got her small features. My eyes linger on the pack on the side of her waist, barely concealed by the tree. Shay's words come back to the forefront of my mind, saying that her mother had to wear a pack that pumps medicine to her heart 24/7 through a tube. That must be it, seeing as a hardly visible, almost transparent tube disappearing into the hem of her shirt.

I would have compared and wondered about her mum if I hadn't spotted figure sitting against the tree, next to Shay. His eyes are piercing gray, like Shay's dad. He hardly smiles just a small grin to tell people he's not completely miserable but he doesn't like taking pictures. The boys hair is black with a touch of dark brown here and there. He looks oddly familiar as he is sitting next to Shay in the photo, bumping shoulders. I feel my blood boil when I notice that Shay's head is slightly tilted towards him, and her posture screams comfortable.

An abrupt movement from the corner of my eye pulls me back to reality. To my left is a window I didn't pay any mind to when I walked in earlier. Standing from Shay's chair, I walk over to the glass that shows a room full of mirrors and light wooden bars that circle around the whole room, connected to the wall waist high. A big stereo systems sits on a table in the corner of the room, off.

I realize that it was the people─ twenty or so ─that caught my attention, as both men and women enter through another door on the opposite side of the room. Their all wearing tight fitting clothes that vary but doesn't come pass mid-thigh, and nude colour tights on their legs. I don't recognize any of the faces that start to sit on the hard wood floor until a red-headed woman strolls in. Lilly. And along side Lilly is a very familiar face, the one I've been looking for. Shay.

In a rather revealing one piece and tights.

Lilly─ in a similar outfit as Shay ─is talking to the brunette, using her hands many times, as they walk to the middle of the room. I can't hear what they're talking and I'm enable to fully comprehend her lips as they move too quickly. Shay sits down with her legs and bare feet out in front of her like everyone else in the room, adjusting the thin strap before she answers Lilly's unknown question. They both laugh, but it's unheard by my ears.

Somewhere between all of this I catch on that that this is a class, and Shay's participating. And the reason why I can't hear them is because these walls are sound proof.

I watch silently as Lilly claps her hands together and the dancers, including Shay, turn to face her. After a few words, and everyone bends and stretches, they dancers stand, but I don't see the other people. Shay is walking gracefully towards me, like she sees me but doesn't look at me in my eyes. Her blue eyes are staring level with my chest.

She stops just on the other side of the window, standing in a position, as I call out her name, "Shay." She doesn't move, or flinch; it's like I never spoke at all. I repeat myself, steadying myself by placing a hand against sill. "Shay!"

Suddenly she wasn't alone on the other side. A man with almond-shaped eyes and dark brown hair comes to stand behind Shay, slowly gripping her upper arm and she allows him to do so without a word.

Now, instead of my blood boiling from the picture of Shay and the boy on her computer, I'm enraged by the scene playing out before me through the one-way glass. 

     

Two things:

1) I'm SO freaking sorry it took so long because I went on vacation this weekend and didn't have a computer. 

2) OMG HARRY'S POV!!!!!!!!!!! WHAT DO YOU THINK?! VOTE AND COMMENT PLEASE.

-A xx