Harbor

I wake to everything hurting. There’s not any part of my body that doesn’t have pain radiating from it.

Start from the bottom and work your way up, Harbor, was always my mother’s advice and without thinking about it I do just that.

My toes wiggle on command but the pain in my leg is just too much and a groan tears out of me. A groan that also causes more pain than it should.

Why the heck do I hurt so bad? Where am I? And what happened?

Trying my mother’s advice again, I think back to what happened today. My lips twitch with a smile as I think about arriving in New York City. But anything after the GPS announcing that I’d reached my destination is hazy, and I let my memory drift to just before I left home.

Brightly colored balloons were all around the room. My friends went overboard. The party was just starting, everyone clapping each other on the back at the squeal that came out of me when they jumped out of their hiding places and screamed, “Surprise!”

My best friends from elementary school hugged me tight. Rebecca was wiping tears off her unmade-up face while Andrea scowled, trying to get her emotions in check.

“You guys didn’t have to throw me a party,” I told them, hitting one of the balloons that sunk low enough for my five-foot-ten-frame.

“Yeah, yeah,” Andrea yells over the music now blaring. “Of course we threw you a party. Our bestie is moving to New York—”

“Finally,” Andrea cuts into Rebecca’s little speech. Rebecca shoots her a look and Andrea rolls her eyes.

Both of my friends were pissed that my parents altered my plans of moving to New York right after high school. In fact, I’m certain they were more pissed than I was that they wanted me go to college and get my degree first. I tried to explain to the girls that I understood my parents wanted me to have a back-up plan just in case. They both argued that I wasn’t going to need a back-up plan because I was going to make it huge and forget all about the inhabitants of Podunkville, Kentucky. It’s crazy when your friends have more faith in your ability than you do.

“Anyways, you’re going to move to New York and you are going to make it bigger than any of us have dreamed. Your name will be a name everyone knows,” Rebecca finished.

“Then we can move into your huge house and live in a life of luxury at your expense,” Andrea added.

I laughed at them and pulled them into a three-way hug. “I’m going to miss you guys so much.”

“We are going to miss you too, Harbor,” Rebecca whispered in my ear with a sniffle.

“Show them what girls from Podunkville have to offer,” Andrea added.

Pain lances through my leg and shoots up my body, making a headache bloom behind my eyes. I refuse to cry out, remembering the pain when I made a sound a minute ago.

Did I have an accident at the going away party?

I try to think back to what happened but all I can recall is having a good time reminiscing with my friends. I wiggle in an effort to straighten my back and pain knifes down my spine.

Knife.

Images flood my pain-filled brain of the door to my new apartment, where nobody had been waiting for me. Two large men climbing the narrow stairs, putting a knife to my neck, walking me down that same set of stairs to my car.

My car.

My car, which contained all my possessions. But worse, much worse. The contents of my bank account are all gone.

I have nothing. I’m somewhere in New York City and have nothing.

Fat tears stream down my face as it sinks in just how hopeless my situation is. I even have no idea where I am. Just the thought of the call I’m going to have to make to my parents makes a sob erupt out of my mouth. They were right. I didn’t even last twenty four hours.

Crying hurts, but I can’t stop, and the pain makes me cry even harder. How could my dream have turned on me so fast?

“Are you in any pain?” A man’s voice is right next to my ear, making me jump.

I moan, the movement sending all my nerve endings into a screaming mess of agony. It feels like I was run over by a stampede of bulls.

“I’m going to call for a nurse,” the same man says.

It dawns on me that I’m in a hospital. The sound of people rushing around and murmuring voices filter in. I can’t remember why I’m in the hospital, but the man’s voice next to me is somewhat comforting.

I crack open my eyes and wince at the harsh light. Quickly, the light is dimmed and he comes into view. He’s gorgeous. His tawny brown hair is short on the sides and longer on the top, giving him that bad-boy-in-charge look. He’s tall, and his hard body is evident even under the white button-down shirt. His face holds a sense of confidence, but at the moment his broad forehead is crinkled with worry. The golden tone of his skin is the perfect backdrop to set off his coffee-brown eyes and I can’t look away.

“Can you talk?” he asks, bringing me back to reality and the pain.

Just gazing at this man’s face, I momentarily forgot the pain I was in.

I swallow and open my mouth to talk but it feels as if razor blades have lined my throat. I try to reach for the water pitcher next to the bed but the IV in my hand is in the way.

“Where is the nurse?” he asks, his voice higher than it was.

“Water,” I grind out and am astonished at how gravelly my voice sounds.

“Let me go find her.” He stands. He must be over six feet and as soon as reaches his full height more memories flash through my brain. The speed of the recollection makes me nauseous and I gulp, trying to get my system back in order.

“You hit me with your car,” I say to him, feeling disjointed.

I should apologize to the bulls I blamed earlier for my state of pain. Bulls had nothing to do with my agony. What was responsible was a black Maserati with a gorgeous man who didn’t know how to drive behind the wheel.

“Let me go get the nurse.”

I watch as he rushes to the door, his long legs eating up the distance in no time, slipping out and closing the door gently behind him. Before I can wonder if he is going to come back he is hauling a surprised-looking nurse into my room.

“Hello, honey,” she says sweetly as she checks my vitals, while the stranger who ran me down with his expensive car hovers close to the bed.

She places a straw in my mouth and I suck water out of the cup greedily.

“Slow down. We don’t want you to get sick. Small sips, and I promise you’ll be guzzling liquid in no time.”

As much as it pains me I take the nurse’s advice and sip the cool water that tastes like it must be from the purest mountain spring. The nurse takes the water away quicker than I want her to and I stick my bottom lip out.

She sees and giggles. “None of that. I’ve been a nurse for longer than you’ve been alive, I know what I’m talking about.” She pauses and frowns. “Well, I think that I’ve been a nurse for that long. Honey, you had no identification on you when the ambulance brought you in. There was no wallet, no ID. Nothing to identify you, and after the police questioned Mr. Strong here,” she looks up and despite her words, her expression is slightly suspicious, “we’re positive he didn’t take it from you before calling 911.”

The man I now know as Mr. Strong lets out a snort, as if the police questioning him about stealing from me is ridiculous, and even though I don’t know him, I kind of feel the same way. He obviously has money, the car and—I run my eyes down the length of him—the clothes he wears makes it obvious that he wouldn’t need to run down a wannabe actress for extra funds.

“Do you remember anything? Do you know who you are?”

Mr. Strong leans in closer to hear what I have to say.

“My name is Harbor Justice.”

The nurse looks shocked at my name, and Mr. Strong raises an eyebrow as if he doesn’t believe me. I’m used to their reactions, it’s what happens when you grow up with a weird sounding name, so I continue. “I’m twenty-one years old and I just moved here from Podunkville, Kentucky.”

“Why didn’t you have anything on you?” Mr. Strong asks and the nurse shoots him an evil eye.

“I’m not really sure. I think I was robbed.” I’m pretty sure the bursts of memory are correct and I was robbed by two men, but there are pieces missing that make me not trust myself.

“You think you were robbed?” the nurse pushes for more information.

“I remember two men threatening me with a knife while I was waiting for someone to open my new apartment, but I don’t remember all the details. Everything seems fuzzy.”

The nurse pats me on the hand. “Harbor, your tests show you suffered a concussion. Small memory lapses are normal and are temporary.” She rifles through my file and reads the rest of my diagnosis. “Your leg isn’t broken but it will take time to heal, so no running marathons for a while.”

I smile at her joke and regret it immediately.

“I’m going to give you some pain medication so you can get a good night’s sleep. Visiting hours are almost over.” She glances at Mr. Strong, who looks like he wants to argue but refrains. “It looks like you got lucky and aren’t suffering from anything major. The doctor will be in to talk to you tomorrow. The police are here and they want to get your statement, but if you’re not up to it then they’ll have to wait.” The nurse winks before putting something warm into my IV. She shoots Mr. Strong her best nurse-in-charge eye before walking out.

The warmness she put in my IV is working fast. My eyes are getting droopy and I can barely focus on the two officers who walk into my hospital room. Mr. Strong looks anxious as he talks to them. His eyes keep darting to my bed and I want to assure him I won’t press charges. I know he didn’t hit me on purpose, but before I can speak the medicine takes me under.