Part 11 (1/2)

I nodded and sank into the s.p.a.ce beside her. I had the worst pounding headache. The past few weeks had been a f.u.c.king mess. I dropped my face into my hands and leaned over, resting my elbows on my knees. Mia placed her hand on my back and began stroking it. ”Are you okay?” She asked in a low voice.

”Yeah, I just have a f.u.c.kin' headache.” I replied in a grumpy tone. She stood from the bed. I could hear her searching for something and then heard a door open and close. When she sat back down beside me, she tapped my arm. I looked up. She held out two aspirins and a bottle of water in her hand. Without hesitating, I grabbed the pills, tossed them down my throat, and downed them with water. ”Thanks.” I mumbled.

”So what do you want to do today? We can grab a bite to eat and then explore the city? Or grab a bite to eat and have a laid-back day with a movie? Or anything?”

I shoved a hand through my hair in frustration, not with her, just with everything else. I was in a c.r.a.ppy mood, and I knew I shouldn't take it out on her. ”I'd rather stay in. We can do those things tomorrow if you like. I'm not up for exploring. Is that okay with you?”

”Sure.” Even though she'd been playing it cool and not questioning me, something seemed off with her.

”Are you sure you're okay with that?”

With a slight smile, she twirled her fingers along the back of my neck. ”Of course, Marcus, you wanted to get away to clear your mind. I don't mind staying in. We can order in and rent movies. It'll be fun.” She nodded, rea.s.suring me that she was okay.

”Thank you.” I leaned in and gave her a quick kiss.

For the next few hours, that was exactly what we did. We lounged around in our pajamas, watched TV, ordered in, and rented a few movies. We were lazy, and it couldn't have been a better day. My mind didn't drift back to all the bulls.h.i.+t. I didn't stop to think about anything that f.u.c.king bothered me. I just simply took that day to do nothing but relax with my girl. It was just what I needed. We made long, sweet, gentle love that night, and before we knew it, the late night crept in and we were fast asleep.

My eyes flashed open at the sound of a loud banging noise. I jerked forward in my chair. The area I was in was unrecognizable. It seemed as if I was in a vacant room in an old warehouse. I stood up from the rusted chair and continued to search my surroundings. Where the f.u.c.k was I? Slowly I circled around and tried to find an exit.

There was none.

How was that f.u.c.king possible?

The tarnished eight-by-ten s.p.a.ce only held one chair smack-dab in the middle. Beside the leg of the chair on the ground was a black-metal object. I made my way toward it, and as I got closer, I realized it was a gun. I picked it up and checked to see if it was loaded. It was fully loaded with six bullets. Confused, I spun around when I heard the noise again. Where was it coming from? It sounded like a rattling noise against a metal frame, but it didn't come from a particular area. It bounced throughout the room.

For the next hour, I searched in every inch of the corners, walls, and ceiling of the room and came up empty.

Nothing.

Just an empty f.u.c.king s.p.a.ce.

If there was no way out, how the f.u.c.k was there a way in? Frustrated, I sank into the chair and began going through my most recent memories. Images of Mia and I making love burst through my head.

Was she safe? Was she taken too? I gripped my hair as anger surged through me.

Lou. He was f.u.c.king responsible. He was responsible for everything!

He was the only one that could've done it. Why? What does he want?

Why can't he just leave my f.u.c.king life alone!

Then I stared into f.u.c.king s.p.a.ce as I looked back on the last fifteen years of my life spiraling out of control.

My father's death.

His gravesite.

Lou taking me in as his own son. The trust I had in him.

Jimmie.

Michael Sullivan. The doc.u.ments and the news he had of what Lou did to my father.

Michael's death.

Elle.

The drug exchanges. The murders.

Club21.

My mother.

The f.u.c.king lies.

Mia. What we shared: the love, the pregnancy, what she found out about her brother, the miscarriage.

f.u.c.k! With the anger burning through me, I shot the gun in the air three times.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Breathing heavily, I continued to blankly stare into nothing.

I wasn't sure how long I sat there, hours or days, but every minute that ticked by my mind began to play tricks on me.

Who was I?

What had I become?

The more I sat there, answering my own questions, the more I hated myself. I was trying to be a better man, but I couldn't change who I really was. I couldn't give more. I wasn't strong enough. I was breaking down piece by piece.

I had tried to bury my memories six feet under.

But there was nowhere to run.

I was tired.

I was drained emotionally and physically.

I was done.