The Darkness That Consumes Us

Chapter 7

Marco

     Early morning light streamed through the slightly opened window curtains. That light hitting me right smack in the middle of the face.

     Ugh. Fucking morning.

    I groan in discomfort as I roll over in the warm sheets. My overused muscles practically screaming at me in protest. Sore is all I fucking felt, I laid on my back staring at the sealing aimlessly. A sudden though struck me, this isn't my fucking room.

     My gaze groggily shifted along the room as I got up. My earlier thoughts were just confirmed as I saw cyan walls and a dresser lined with makeup and hair products. I found my phone resting face down on the floor and grabbed it. Paying no mind to the bruises and scratches that littered my knuckles. As I looked to the other side of the bed I saw tresses of long auburn hair sticking out from under the white covers. Shapely legs sticking out the other end. I took notice of the thong laying right on the lamp as if someone had taken it off in a hurry. Looking under the covers, I was completely bare.

    Carajo. (Shit) Looks like I had one hell of a night.

    I scoured my mind for memories of last night. Hazy images of the ring, a sweaty man, and calculated punches coming from me, come barreling in first. Next, his body hitting the ground with a loud thud as the deafening sound of people cheering took over. Across the bar a flirty smile attached to another body that means nothing to me. The burn of scotch running down my throat and the heavy smell of cigarettes and sweat that permeated the air. Then, flashes of frenzied movements, a clash of lips, a car ride. Images of tangled limbs, sweaty bodies, and the sound of heavy breathing and moaning attack my brain all at once. The memories came so suddenly that I groaned as my head began to spin slightly.

     I focus my attention on the phone in my hands and I see the big bold letters displayed on the front. 11:04 am.

    Fuck, I'm going to be late.

    With new found purpose, I spring up from the bed and try and find my clothes around the messy room. My movement must have roused the girl in a tangle of sheets from her slumber, shifting of sheets and a sickeningly sweet voice alert me to her consciousness.

    "Where are you going baby?" as I turn around, pausing in putting on my jeans I come face to face with her pouty lips and birds nest of hair. The woman in the bed stares at me expectantly while I redirect my gaze from her bare chest.

"I'm fucking leaving." I say emotionlessly as I pull my shirt over my head and search for my keys.

"Don't you want a repeat of last night?" she says in a voice I'm sure was meant to be sexy. It just simply isn't, she sounds like a dying whale.

"Not really." I say only half paying attention to her as I spot the glitter of metal by the foot of the bed with my shoes. Pulling those on and swinging my keys carelessly on my index finger as I get up.

"But-" I don't even let her finish as I walk to the door.

"Look Candice, this was fun and all but I got shit to do. Places to be."

Sparing her one glance over my shoulder I walk out of the tiny room and make my way downstairs.

"My names Calla you fucking prick!" I hear her shrill voice scream behind me causing the headache I have to intensify.

"Shit! Find someone who give a fuck!" With those parting words I make my way to my car, get inside, and shut the door a little too harshly.

The drive to my apartment is spent in calming silence while I keep my head clear of any thoughts. Pulling up to my building, I make my way to the elevator and endure the crappy music that every elevator is plagued with.