Drunk in Love 3: An Original Love Story (4 page)

He sat in the car for a moment then decided to get out and use the bathroom. Maybe he could grab a snack to eat out of the store, but honestly he wasn’t hungry. Food was the last thing on his mind. He got out of his car, glancing over at one guy that was standing next to a SUV filling it up, and then his eyes softly wandered over to a female that was pulling off from the gas pump, driving in a small body ES Lexus. Mark awkwardly smiled at her as she looked his way and winked her eye. He shook that off, entering the store doors. The chiming sounded off from the door causing him to flinch as he glanced over at a cop sitting in the back of the store.

Damn,
he thought while trying to look as less guilty as possible. The palm of his hands felt warm as hell after realizing that the bathroom was in the direction of where the cop was sitting.
Shit,
his thoughts nervously raced inside his head. He didn’t want to seem suspect, but he didn’t know who all had heard about the possible killing spree that he’d gone berserk on. Just thinking about it made him queasy on his stomach as he hesitantly made his way to the restroom. Noticing that the cop was just sitting there sipping coffee, Mark figured that he probably was a local that patrolled the area. Finally, Mark passed him, only nodding his head to speak. The cop spoke back, but mean mugged him the whole way to the restroom.

Once inside the restroom he locked the door then ran into the only empty stall that was near him. Immediately, he fell to his knees and started vomiting up everything he had in him. The realization of it all had hit him like a bolt of lightning. He was beyond hurt, traumatized, and confused.

“What have I done?” He said in between gagging and coughing. His stomach cringed inside as he threw up nothing but liquids. “I’m so sorry, O’.” he wept followed by more gagging like it was now so bad that it was eating away at the lining of his stomach. He started sobbing like a man that had been damaged to the core by a woman that he’d put on a pedestal ever since he’d known her.

He sat on the bathroom floor, feeling sorry for himself and the situation at hand. He’d lost his mind in just the blink of an eye and could never go back to the person he once was. People would never respect or look at him the same again. He was torn up inside more than anybody would ever know. His heart hurt for a woman that didn’t love him anymore. And, his wife was possibly dead due to his selfish beliefs and not knowing how to handle being bitten back. KARMA had certainly eased in to teach him a mean lesson about life. It was now a lesson that made him think about wanting to take his own life. That thought quickly vanished when it dawned on him that he didn’t even have his gun anymore to complete the act if he wanted to.

“Oh shit,” he whispered. The gun was indeed his and registered under his name. If they found it, it would trace right back to him without a doubt.

He had mixed emotions of anger and disappointment fueling his system. “I have really fucked this up.” He sniveled. Even thinking about all the wrong he’d done over the years with Felisha didn’t compare to the most thoughtless acts of them all, murder in the first degree. He could be going to prison for the rest of his life. A place he knew that he didn’t belong at. He was a well educated, business man with money, not to mention eye candy that could have any woman that he wanted.

Why would I act like such a fool over this when I’d done so much worse to her?
He pondered to himself while continuing to cry. All of a sudden, something happened that snapped Mark out of his misery.

BOOM…!!! BOOM…!!! BOOM…!!!

Chapter 3

Three banging knocks were heard at the door instantly pulling Mark out of the lost depressive state that he’d allowed himself to dwell in. He quickly cleared his throat and dried his eyes.

“YEA,” he called out like whoever was knocking was disturbing a good shit he was having, and then he cleared his throat again.

“Are you alright in there?” The heavy voiced asked.

“YEA,” Mark responded. He got up off of the floor and dusted himself off, at the same as flushing the toilet. He had gotten so caught up in his feelings that he didn’t’ realize how loud his cries could’ve been to someone standing on the outside waiting to come in.

He exited the stall, turning on the sink water and splashing a bit of it on his face. Looking in the mirror, he’d noticed his eyes were red as hot balls and it looked like the devil was staring back at him. Quickly, he shook his head, trying to scatter the ugly thoughts that were plaguing him.

“Get it together, Mark.” He told himself as he dried his face and hands then headed out of the restroom. The second the door was open, he was greeted by the cop again. This time his face seemed more pleasant and concerned.

“You alright, buddy?” He questioned after hearing Mark’s hurls as he vomited and wept inside the restroom.

“Uh yeah,” Mark responded. The sweat beaded on his forehead as a lump formed in his throat. “I’m good, officer. Thanks for asking.” Mark headed towards the front counter with the cop following closely behind him. This only made him more nervous. He looked at the short, light skin lady behind the counter and tensely smiled at her while pulling his wallet out of the back pocket of his Tru Religion Jeans.

“What can I get you today?” She asked since he didn’t have anything in his hand. He was certainly a good looking man and she’d already scoped out his ride prior to him entering the store.
My kinda man,
she thought with a flirtatious smile as she waited on his response.

Mark went to grab one of his credit cards, but thought about those being traced. He then looked back at the cop that was waiting in line behind him.
Damn, what’s his problem?
He questioned himself. Finally, he pulled out a hundred dollar bill and handed it to the lady. “I’ll take fifty dollars on pump two.”

“I got’cha,” the lady said still smiling and popping on her gum. He really wanted to say keep the change because he was in such a hurry to get the hell on, but he couldn’t just say that with the cop there.

The lady handed him his change and winked at him. Mark smiled, getting his money and quickly exiting the store.
What’s with these thirsty women tonight?
He made it to his car, and then removed the nozzle to start pumping gas. He glanced up to see the cop walking out of the store.
I know this nigga ain’t coming over here.

“Hey buddy,” the cop called out as he got closer to him. “I just want to make sure that you’re alright.”

“I told you in the store that I’m good.”

“Okay, I’m just making sure. I don’t want you getting in the car and driving under these conditions.”

Mark frowned. “What conditions?” He said like the cop was now just being irritating as hell.

“Sir, will you blow in this breathalyzer for me?” He asked Mark.

“What?” Mark quickly questioned. “I ain’t drunk. I have hardly drank anything today, let alone alcohol.”

“I hear you, sir but I also heard you throwing up in the bathroom. Plus, your eyes speak otherwise.”

Mark shook his head. He couldn’t believe that he was being harassed at a time like this when he really was just trying to get out of town and lay low. “Sure, I’ll take the test.” He agreed hoping that this was all he had to do then he could leave. The cop pulled out the breathalyzer as he felt the need to question Mark.

“Where are you from?” He asked.

Mark nearly froze as he swallowed. His throat instantly turned dry. “I'm from Georgia, heading up to the capital, Washington, D.C.” He lied about the D.C part with ease, but he was a quick thinker if nothing else.

“Georgia? Which part?” The cop pondered.

Damn, do you want me to breathe in this shit or not?
Mark questioned to himself.

Mark announced, “I'm from Augusta, Georgia.” He responded.

“Augusta? I was just down there for The Masters.” The cop smiled.

Mark nervously smiled back. “I'm there faithfully every year. Now, if you don’t mind I’d like to get this over with so I can be on my way.”

“Okay,” the cop said with a slight nod of the head while putting the breathalyzer up to Mark’s mouth. “Take a deep breath, and then blow hard into this.”

I can’t believe we’re doing this shit at the pump while I’m getting gas.
He thought then angrily shook his head while completing the task. The cop checked the breathalyzer and sure enough there were no signs that Mark had been drinking.

“Thank you, sir. I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s okay; you’re only doing your job.” He responded nicely, but inside he was heated. As he put the nozzle back in its place, he attempted to walk off and get inside of his car.

“Hey nice ride,” the cop said with a light smile like he wanted to sit and carry on a conversation or something.

“Preciate that,” Mark stated then by the grace of God, a call came across the cop’s radio, he unclipped it from his waist and brought it up to his mouth. He pressed the side button and spoke into it. He had an unusually deep, country accent as he talked. He looked at Mark as he started to walk off. “Nice to meet you, Buddy. Take care of yourself.” He said, and with that he was gone.

Ten minutes later, Mark was back on the road. His nerves weren’t any better, but at least he’d gotten away. An hour later, he'd crossed into North Carolina, where his destination really was at.

Mark had an old friend that owned a half a million dollar lake house in Asheville, North Carolina. He'd been there a few times in the past and since him and his friend was so close, he had his own key. He’d sent his friend a text the day before. He just wanted to make sure that he’d be the only one there. By the time 1:17 a.m. hit, he was pulling up in front of the cabin that was nestled on the lake. It had an overwhelming view of the mountains across the water. Mark parked his car, killed the engine and stepped out to stretch his legs. He closed the door, went around to the trunk and popped it open. He retrieved his already packed Samsonite luggage from within and closed the trunk back down. It’s bad that he’d had plans to just get away and think things through. However, following Olivia put a deadening sting in those plans. He should’ve just gotten out of town when he’d planned on leaving the first time.

He stepped up on the wooden log porch. He could vision him and Olivia rocking in the matching rocking chairs that sat there. They rocked just a little back and forth from the wind blowing lightly in the air. The cabin was four bedrooms with an all glass, front trimmed in gray stone. Around the sides and back of it was made of timber. He headed for the front door, and then inserted the key inside the keyhole. Once the door was open, he immediately walked over to the security alarm pad that was to the left of him. Quickly, he punched in the security code, and then the small light that was blinking went from red to green. He locked himself inside the cabin, flipping the lights on.

The living room was spacious with a lofty ceiling and a crystal chandelier hanging above. All the furniture was contemporary and expensive, everything leather. He felt a little bit more comfortable now. He went into the master bedroom where an enormous king-sized bed awaited him. The sheets were clean and the room smelled fresh and new.

Mark sat his suitcase down on the floor and climbed onto the bed and laid out flat on his back. He just stared up at the ceiling, lost in his own world. His mind was bogged and he was beyond stressed. He kicked off his shoes and took in a deep breath. Knowing that he'd fucked up big time for real this time, there was only one person he could call on. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. At first he hesitated, but he knew that if he couldn’t trust anybody else at the moment, he could still trust Felisha. Without further hesitation, he dialed her number. When he heard her sleepy voice pick up on the fourth ring, he felt somewhat relieved. Tears came to his eyes immediately as he spoke. “Hey.”

Instantly, Felisha heard the crackling in his voice. He sounded distraught. “Hey you,” she softly responded. “What's wrong?” She knew that Mark had been going through some things, but she definitely didn’t think that he’d want to be bothered with her.

Mark sniffed, and then attempted to clear his throat so he could talk. “I fucked up, Felisha. I really fucked up.”

Felisha sat up in bed. “What have you done, Mark?”

“Mommy, that’s Mark?” Lil Romeo could be heard in the background.

Mark straightened up a bit when hearing his son’s tiny voice. “What’s he doing up?”

“He’s been irritable since I got home tonight. He keeps wanting to talk to O’, but you know I’m not about to call her. She probably wants to ki-”.

“Not around him,” Mark interrupted her. “Put him on the phone right quick.”

Felisha handed Lil Romeo the phone, but first putting it on speaker so she could hear him. “Here, Mark wants to talk to you.”

“Hey Mark,” he spoke in the phone sounding sad.

“Hey Buddy,” Mark spoke back. He was trying his best not to bawl on the phone with his son. “What’cha doing up so late?” He questioned.

“I had a bad dream today about tee-tee.” He said while rubbing his eyes, still feeling sad that he hadn’t spoken to her yet. “I don’t want to go back to sleep.”

Mark sat in silence. Could his four year old son have known the outcome of what he’d just done hours prior?

“Mark, are you with her?” Lil Romeo asked. “Le’me talk to her.”

“No, I’m actually out of town. I just called to say that I love you and no matter what happen I’ll always help your mama take care of you.”

“Okay, I love you too. Will you tell tee-tee to call me?” He said, too young to know that the adults had crossed a line that may take him out of tee-tee’s life for good.

“I sure will,” Mark responded through light snivels. “Put your mama back on the phone and I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay,” Lil Romeo said then handed Felisha the phone back as she looked at him and smiled.

“Hey, go grab you some cookies. Your milk is already in your cup inside the refrigerator.” She said so that he could leave out of the room to give her a moment of privacy. Once he’d exited the room, she turned her attention back to Mark. “What have you done?”