𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 | 𝟏𝟖+

28

Chapter Twenty-Eight: (I Just) Died in Your Arms Tonight

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"Not so fucking rough Gabriel," Erica says as he assists her into the large vehicle. He rolls his eyes slamming the door. She has been overly annoying pestering him every second for something. It's almost as if she was doing it on purpose. Oh wait. . . She is.

"It's a shame they haven't found that criminal." She says dramatically.

"I could've died." She says looking at her husband and studying his posture. He managed his emotions well making sure to not crack under any circumstances.

"Good thing you didn't." He says emotionless not even sparing her a glance. She rolls her eyes after burning holes in the side of his head. She was never going to get the reaction she wanted from him which pissed Erica off more than anything. She started to think if she should've just had him arrested, but the idea of the father of her children being behind bars quickly killed that thought. She shuddered in disgust. It would be a hassle for her to bring the boys to prison. She then thought about what the women of the country club would say.

"Our Fourth of July barbecue is still scheduled right?" She asks after some time. He furrows his eyebrows.

"Why would it?" He asks lowly.

"Well, it's one of my favorite events to host. One small bump on the head doesn't stop anything." She chirps. Gabriel thought about the very moment he began to hate his wife. She is now unrecognizable to him. He can't even recognize himself. He hit her with a wine bottle and staged a break-in. For some reason, though he doesn't harbor an ounce of regret. Did it scare him? No. His wife is not the first person to push him to a point of no return. Gabriel gripped the steering wheel as he began thinking about the vow he made himself.

"Come on man. I think you've had enough." Gabriel's roommate tells him. He shrugs him off quickly downing another shot.

"Come on we have practice in the morning." He reasons, but Gabriel paid him no mind as he turned around leaning against the bar and taking in the scenery before him. The local rock band was performing and they weren't that bad. Maybe it was the drinks Gabriel had that led him to think that. He nods his head to the beat trying to distract himself from why he came here in the first place.

His now ex-girlfriend cheated on him. He clenches his jaw thinking about it. It seems as though not enough alcohol in the world can make him forget. His pager vibrates on his hip. He picks it seeing the bitch's number. He ditches his roommate and makes his way to a phone behind the counter.

"Hey, you can't be back here." Some lady shouts. Gabriel swiftly shoots her bird before dialing the number.

"Gabriel, w-what'd you d-do?" He heard her panicked voice on the other end.

"What're you talking about?" He manages to get out talking lowly into the phone. He held it tightly to his ear. He heard her clearly despite the loud background around him. It sounded as though she was crying which brought joy to him. He wanted her to hurt.

"You jumped h-him?!" She screams into the phone. He didn't say anything thinking about his next course of words. He sighs deeply.

"Fuck you, Rachel." He says. A bartender comes over slamming his hand on the switch hook and ending his call.

"This ain't a fucking phone booth. Get the fuck outta here." The man says. Gabriel lowers the phone slowly as he felt his adrenaline running. That hormone mixed with the toxins of the alcohol coursing through his body ignited a flame. He felt as if he was indestructible almost inhumane and about to shift into something. He was angry. The bartender saw the glint in his eyes and he stepped back holding his hands up.