Love Lost Read online

  “Have a nice day Star,” Ashley says as she walks off the porch.

  It's ok she can have her little power trip because I’m still coming for her man. Once he is mines then I will be the one on top. She thinks she better with her little punk ass college degree well let’s see how she does when I’m fucking her man.

  “Call me later,” I shout to her back as she walks to her car.

  “Alright, with yo fake ass.” She responds without giving me a glance.

  BITCH!

  Ashley

  “Marcus, baby are you in the bedroom,” I yell trying to get my boyfriend’s attention.

  “Yea,” he responds to me.

  “Can you come to the bathroom please?”

  “Babe, I’m watching the game right now.”

  “I said please, Marcus.”

  I know my man well enough to know when that game comes on his attention turns off. So I go to him. As I walk through the hallway my toes massage the plush white carpet with each step I take. The smell of vanilla is strong and pleasant. Every Sunday night, I clean my house thoroughly and light vanilla scented candles in all the rooms except the bathroom. So as soon as church was over, I rushed home so I could start cleaning. The bathroom was the last room on my list to clean.

  “Marcus are you serious,” I say walking into the bedroom.

  “About what,” he says as he continues to watch the football game.

  “Why do I have to keep saying the same shit over and over again? Stop leaving the toothpaste like this,” I say holding up a tube of toothpaste.

  “Ashley can you please leave me the fuck alone. You see me trying to watch the game but you steadily tryna start shit.”

  “Then stop leaving an unnecessary mess for me to clean up.”

  “Man stop it,” he says as he sits up in the bed.

  “No you stop leaving unnecessary shit like this around my fucking house,”

  “Yo, who the fuck you talking to like that? I’m not one of yo friends out here on the street.”

  I throw the tube of toothpaste as hard as I can at Marcus’ head. He takes his hand and rubs his temple where the toothpaste hit him. He gives me a long stare without saying a word. Marcus stands up and walks to me with a crooked smile. He grabs me by my neck.

  “You must’ve forgotten the last time I had to put you in your place.” He says while digging his nails in my neck.

  “I thought we were passed this,” I say while gasping for air. My entire face is beginning to tighten and my eyes are bulging out of my face.

  He has no response. Every second we stand here is like two minutes lost. Two years ago, Marcus’ mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. And two years ago a tragedy that would forever affect him was revealed. The man who raised him as his own son had been revealed to be a child molester. Although he never molested Marcus; for years he was forcing himself onto Marcus’ twelve year old sister. Her name was Katrina Smith. Marriage to Marcus’ mom made their stepfather unhappy because he was madly in love with Katrina. She did not share the same feelings and lived in fear of her step-dad for four years. According to Marcus, she told him she didn’t love him and hated being forced to have sex with him. This sent their step-dad into an emotional angry state. He held Katrina hostage for three hours before he murdered her then killed himself. To add salt on everyone’s wounds their step-dad recorded the entire scenario.

  After seeing the tape Marcus became angry inside. Most days he would sit around the house depressed drinking alcohol. One day, I had enough of his funky ass lying around. I wanted him to bathe, and that’s when he snapped on me. Marcus beat me until I lost consciousness and had to be rushed to the emergency room. I refused to press charges because I knew my man was going through something and no one could understand his feelings. But then the beatings kept coming and became more frequent as time went on. I rationalized each physical encounter I had with him because he was more than just the air I breathed. Marcus’ love sustained the life I lived, he was my soulmate; so I didn’t want anything bad to happen to him.

  Once Marcus came out of his depression, he promised me he would never lay another hand on me. And it’s been good ever since then. I can remember the date; it was on March 12, 2013. Now two years later he is breaking his promise.

  “Marcus you promised,” I say with a lonely tear running down my cheek.

  He lets go as soon as he recognizes the fear within my eyes. I fall to the bedroom floor, coughing trying to catch my breath. I rub my neck and caress the indents from him digging his nails into my neck. How did I get back to here? I’m so over this.

  “You promised me stupid fucking lier,” I say with anger and pain.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispers so low I could barely hear him.

  “I hate you it was just stupid fucking toothpaste,” I yell.

  “I’m so sorry, babe forgive me.”

  “Get out of my house,” I say as I stand to my feet. Using the bed to support my weight, I start to shake and cry.

  “Babe forgive me please its February 10 and it’s getting close to that day,” he says while wrapping his arms around my body. He feels real good right now. But I’m not excusing what he just did to me. I dismiss his apology and the anniversary of his sister’s death. Living in fear is not on my list of goals.

  Without warning, Marcus lifts me up from the back and lays me gently on the bed. I crawl away from him. He chases me to the top of the bed and slowly starts kissing my hand.

  “Babe, I’m so sorry. I never want to hurt you, please forgive.”

  “No I’m sick of this shit, Marcus.” I say as tears begin to form in my eyes.

  He wipes my face and beings to kiss my forehead. Each kiss was soft and tender. Not wanting to fall for his tricks, I roll over facing my back to him. I cuddle up with my fuzzy body pillow. Marcus beings to stroke my back with his strong hands. The roughness of his touch is secure. Goosebumps form on my skin. He leans in closely and starts to kiss my neck. His tongue softly caress my spot, then travels to my ear. Regardless of anger and pain, my panties start to become wet. Not wanting to participate but not wanting him to stop, I just lay still.

  “Forgive me baby.”

  I just lay in silence. His hand has now found its way into my panties and he softly strokes my vagina. It feels so good; I fight every urge in my body from wanting to participate. Marcus is playing dirty right now. He knows he is in the wrong and it doesn’t help I’ve been so horny. But that’s because he was lacking in the bedroom lately.

  Marcus continues to stroke my wetness and occasionally stroke my walls with two of his fingers. At this point I can’t take it anymore. I start to fuck his fingers, hard and rough. Using his wrist to stroke my clitoris, he goes in deeper with his two fingers making me want to fuck his whole arm. I clutch my body pillow hard as I dry hump it while Marcus is two fingers deep inside my vagina.

  “Babe please forgive me,” he whispers in my ear.

  I came all over his hand.

  Ashley

  “Babe where you bout to go,” I say to Marcus. I rush to meet him at the door.

  Marcus is waiting for me in his unusual choice of clothes. He usually leaves the house wearing business attire but lately it’s been designer jeans and tennis shoes with his black leather jacket. If Marcus was just another man walking on the streets; I would think he was a drug dealing thug.

  Three days ago he choked me until I couldn’t breathe. Before that he’s been gone at odd times of the day, sometimes he won’t answer the phone. So I know something is up with him but he’s not telling me.

  “What are you wearing,” I say as I’m wrapping my arms around his waist.

  “I wanna be comfortable for what I’m about to do.”

  “And what is that?”

  “Don’t worry about it. Just have dinner ready for when I get back,” he says then affectionately kisses my forehead.

  “What you mean don’t worry about it? It’s almost six o’clock in the evening,” I say with con
cerning suspicion.

  The doorbell rings.

  “Who is it,” I yell at the door.

  “Your mother,” booms a voice through the door.

  Marcus opens the door and greets my mother with a hug and kiss on the forehead. Then he rushes out the house to avoid my questions. My mother swaps where she was standing for Marcus’ old spot.

  “Hey ma,” I say as we embrace each other.

  “What’s that smell baby girl?”

  “I made cupcakes for my favorite mommy,” I say releasing her embrace.

  “Your only mommy,” she says then lets out a loud laugh.

  My mom is an amazing woman not only did she work three jobs to put me through college, she helped build my clientele. I was always thankful of her, so everything I did was to make her proud. I graduated college with honors, organized a charity for teenage girls, paid her mortgage off, bought her a car. You know the small things she deserves.

  “Did you do it ma?”

  “Yes baby girl, the private detective will start following him soon as he drives away.”

  “Mom, I really hope he not cheating on me.”

  “Baby girl you know the answer to your question.”

  My mom walk towards the kitchen and I follow her lead. She takes a seat at the island. I search through my glass door cabinets for two wine glasses and small plates. We enjoy a glass of wine and cupcakes I baked from scratch.

  Ashley

  I turn on the lights in my office and head straight to my desk. I pull out my to-do list sitting it on my desktop and begin to read off the list. “Let’s see we have to call all the vendors for Kathy and cancel all plans, order some more business cards, check voicemail, call my current clients to touch bases, balance my check book, order some more dress suits, and book hotel room for romantic getaway with Marcus. I’ll book the room last.” I say while pulling out my phone.

  As I’m on the phone talking to the vendors, trying to get as much money as I can back for Kathy; I can’t help but to think about my conversation with Star earlier in the week. She always takes me there. I get she is pretty than me and she dresses better but why she always got to throw shade at me. It’s like she is secretly jealous of me or something. Maybe I’m just secretly jealous of her. She does have a really nice body shape; she looks snatched when she wears those tight dresses. But I’m not all that bad looking. I wouldn’t be with a guy like Marcus if I was. Right?

  “Hello, this is Ashley from Eloquent. I’m calling on behalf of my clients Kathy and Greg.” As I speak with this vendor my mind is still wondering with thought. Star is always throwing shade at me and sometimes even putting me on blast in front of people. It really gets tiresome when she calls me whack all the time. I get it I’m different than most people but I pride myself on being weird. I found success being able to think differently than most people. That’s something I’m not shameful of being “whack”, as Star would say.

  It’s been two hours since I came home to my office; now I’m finally on my last thing to do. Having a small romantic getaway is just what Marcus and I need. We deserve it as much as the both of us work. I remember when I fell in love with him, that same feeling is still with me to this day. Our love goes beyond what the heart can provide, it evolved into and mental and spiritual connection as well.

  Even though the other night was bad, Marcus did promise he would never hurt me again and I believe him. Marcus is my king to an empire we’re trying to create together. Without him some of the things I have accomplished would just be written down goals. He pushes me to the point of success. My love for him is as necessary as breathing. I couldn’t imagine not being with him. That’s why I made the decision to have this romantic getaway. And February 14th is the perfect day to have it on. Plus, I’ll do anything to rekindle our sex life and sexual connect with each other. I did some research and found that some women slip a harmless dosage of ecstasy in their man’s drink before having sex. So I think I’m going to try that as long as it doesn’t harm him. I’m desperate.

  Ashley

  "Basset Hotel, this is Michelle speaking. How may I help you," says a perky lady on the other end of the phone.

  "Hi, this is Ashley Harrison. I spoke with someone yesterday and made reservations for the Romantic Suite. I’m just calling to confirm details," I say to the woman.

  "Yes, I pulled your name up and this is what we have for you. You’re scheduled for two nights, checking in Valentine’s and leaving the sixteenth. We’ve set up dinner in the room for you, so when you guys come there will be a nice romantic hot meal awaiting your arrival. We offer a bottle of champagne on the house for the two of you. Breakfast in bed, for both mornings you will be staying with us."

  "Wow, are you serious? This is wonderful, you just made my romantic weekend even better. Now I’m really looking forward to tonight."

  "I can’t wait to see you; its couples like you that really make me enjoy my job," Michelle says to me with much enthusiasm.

  "Well thank you and you can expect more business from me. I will be spreading the word about your great customer service. I really appreciate everything and I’ll see you in a few hours."

  "You’re welcome and see you later," Michelle says and I hang up my cell.

  I stand up and shuffle over to the walk-in closet. I grab Marcus’ brown suede suit case and my black leather suit case. Marcus is supposed to meet me at the hotel after he gets off work so I’m packing his bags. Lately he’s been putting in extra hours at is investment firm, which is why I’m planning this getaway. We both need some relaxing time together as a couple. He told me he took this weekend off last month, so we can spend time together. We shall see if that’s true, Marcus has been missing lunch dates and dinner dates. Me being me, I thought we should spend this time together to bond a little more. All was going well until yesterday when he told me, he is going to work for a few hours. So, now I’m left to pack the bags and go alone to the hotel.

  I throw the bags on the floor near the bed and walk back into the closet. I start with Marcus’ things; he didn’t want a lot so packing his things will go by faster. I grab five of his favorite pairs of jeans; even though he said grab two. I walk to the bedside and begin to fold each pair neatly and place them one by one in his suit case. My mom always told me when I pack clothes do it neatly and fold correctly; that way my clothes won’t have wrinkles when I unpack. I continue this system of packing until I have both, his suit case and my suitcase ready to go. I place both suit cases in the trunk of my car and I drive off heading to the hotel. Before I go to the hotel I make a stop in my old neighborhood for a little gift for Marcus. I pull up and my favorite cousin is standing outside with a couple of his home boys.

  "What’s good cousin, how you been holding up," I say as I approach the group.

  "Shit, you know me just chillin’ tryna keep my head above water. What you doin’ around here? Yo ass barely come to the hood," my cousin shoots back at me. He has one thing right I wouldn’t be caught dead wondering around these streets for no reason.

  "KG, don’t play me like that, I’m just coming to say hi. And excuse me for being rude, hi Red, Black, Jp, and Chris."

  "What up," they all say in unison.

  "Kg I do need a favor, I need a few pills for tonight," I say trying hard not to sound suspicious or lame. I’m so whack for this. Although I think I may have failed that task because I sound ridiculous. Every day these so called people in the hood make up new lingo that I cannot keep up with.

  "Here’s the money and I’ll be right back. I need to go speak to G-mah."

  G-mah is our grandmother, and she lived right on the corner, the heart of the neighborhood. When we were growing up, her house is where people would flock to so they could see all the action. Fights and drug bust is the most common action, something always went down on G-mah’s corner. As kids we took joy with all the drama, but now I love staying away from it.

  "Don’t even bother Joe came to pick her, so he could take her to the bank."
Kg says trying hard not to let his real feelings manifest. But his facial expressions told me differently. My uncle Joe isn’t the most trustworthy person in the family. He’s heavily addicted to crack and often steals money from G-mah. Rumor has it my uncle Joe killed his sister in her sleep to get a bigger bedroom. But that story takes place when they were ten and no one knows the truth behind my aunt’s premature death.

  "You better leave that man alone he can choose to do whatever he wants,” I say in a sarcastic tone.

  “Naw he needs to start telling the fucking truth for once. With his old cracked out faggot ass.”

  “But until he actually owns up to it, leave him alone," we both burst into laughter, because we know that day will never come. Our uncle has been in the closet since he was born. He is the definition of a down-low brother. He has been married four times trying to cover up being gay. He’s been to prison twice and according to KG’s friends, he has a prison wife that he keeps in contact with. Everyone in the family knows his secret and is becoming fed up with is devilish ways. Even his kids are fed up and wants him tell the world, what we already know.

  "Here you go cuz, and you better roll out. I just saw the biker boys going down the alley," My cousin says referring to the policeman on bikes.

  "Thanks cuzzo, call me later alright. We need to have a party for the family or something," We exchange hugs and I get into my car and drive off.

  I pull up in the Hotel’s parking lot, and I park at the entrance. Two guys help me with my luggage and the valet pulls off with my car. I walk in and I’m taken back by the beautiful interior. The lobby has a purple and gold theme like royalty. Instead of a traditional appearance the hotel is very modern and has a purple L-shaped sofa in the middle of the lobby. I step up to the front desk and a tall black lady stands there smiling waiting for me to come closer.

  "Hello, how may I help you?" The lady asks me.

  "The last name is Harrison…"

  "Ashley Harrison, I have been expecting you." She cuts me off. "My name is Michelle Basset, I’m the proud owner of Basset Hotel."