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This story takes chronologically
immediately after Chapter 2 of
The Dark Star - Descent Pt. 07.
It can though be read in isolation.
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"Same again?"
Jessica Marks looked to the time displayed in the top corner of her mobile phone screen, noting it was ten to eight. To have another drink in this fast-filling Irish Bar that she stepped into a little over an hour ago would make her late for her shift and probably mean she'd also arrive a little tipsy given she hadn't been able to eat all day.
"I'm sorry..." she offered realising how rude she'd been to leave the auburn-haired girl stood waiting. She had a pretty face and a slender body dressed in tight skinny black jeans and a sleeveless black button up shirt that perfectly accentuated her slender frame, even if the black only highlighted how porcelain pale her skin was. "...Please I'll have just one more if you make it a double... I'm late enough I might as well be spectacularly late."
"Well, there's a logic in there somewhere," the auburn-haired girl offered as she turned.
"It's..." Jessica made to offer.
"Double Vodka, and Cranberry and a squeeze of lime" the Barmaid offered, completing her sentence for her while taking a fresh tall glass from under a counter and adding crushed ice to it.
"Oh, you're good" Jessica offered her praise to a fellow Bartender.
"To be fair it's all you've been drinking since you got here" her soft Irish accent wrapped around her words that she delivered on a non-judgemental way.
"I've had a few, haven't I?" Jessica pulled a face as she spoke.
"What's the occasion?" the barmaid asked.
"Sadly, nothing to celebrate." Jessica qualified tapping her phone against the contactless machine to pay for her drink. She didn't feel all that tipsy to be fair, despite the lack of food.
"I hope it's not drinking to forget" the Barmaid stated before she drifted away with her attention firmly fixed on the next customer requiring attention. It was the kind of brief conversation offering a lack of true insight that Jessica would hold herself with customers several times a night, she only then realised that she'd not gotten the Irish girls name let alone thanked her.
Jessica took a sip from the fresh strong drink causing a little shiver to run along her arms as she sat there in a figure-hugging red long-sleeve v neck t-shirt, coupled with a black knee length skirt and black knee-high boots. Not the ensemble she'd choose for a Saturday night out, but she wasn't supposed to be out drinking, she was dressed in work attire she was supposed to be starting her shift in five minutes. The Dark Star she decided there and then was without their Head Bar Steward tonight. She'd ring in when she left the bar.
She couldn't face the place tonight, not so much the invariably busy environment where she'd been as a visitor only the night before. The busy club would be a distraction, a welcome one at that. More specifically she couldn't face him, Logan Hughes. She'd always welcomed their over familiarity, given as good as she'd got in joking with him, exchanging acerbic comments and teasing one another. Even last night he'd been the perfect host, laying on the charm and few drinks for her and her friends. Had such teasing crossed a line, had such attention been welcomed. He was undoubtedly a roguish, handsome Man but she'd heard too many rumours from too many sources to fall for his seduction no matter how hard he'd tried. Had she let her guard down, had she succumbed to a moment of weakness, or was there more to her broken memories, something far more sinister. She couldn't face him tonight she thought as she took a heavy swig of her drink. She couldn't face him until she knew for sure what had played out.
Waking this morning she'd the partial memories of what seemed to be a dark and twisted nightmare. Only the memories seemed too real. The memories combining with how she physically felt scared her even more. She felt like she'd had sex, but she had no memory of having sex and no evidence to suggest otherwise. That she couldn't be certain as she picked apart her broken, twisted memories, filled her with fear more than anything else. She hadn't directly confided in her best friend over a light breakfast and pounding heads. Jo hadn't laughed of her enquiry as to whether someone had come home with them, but she'd laughed at the suggestion of the possibility. "Those bloody cocktails your boss made were so strong I can hardly remember the taxi ride home."
It was that statement that troubled her as much as anything else, the unthinkable she couldn't imagine possible. She was convinced she'd had sex last night, she had fleeting recollections of him her boss, Logan, being there. In her house. In her bedroom. It wasn't just her imagination.
Her mind raced, her memories were fleeting at best. Surely, he wouldn't have followed her home. She knew she respected him; the feelings were mutual. It couldn't be possible, despite her fractured mind she tried to reassure herself there was no way it could be possible.
All the same, Jessica wasn't drinking to forget as the young Irish girl had suggested, she was drinking to remember.
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"Are you gonna be OK?"
Jessica heard the words but they all but passed her by in her drunken haze. Five hours of steady drinking and still no food had taken their toll.
"Jessica" the young Irish girl implored once more "Are you going to be OK... do you want me to get you to a Cab?"
"I'll be fine... trushh me I'm be fine," Jessica stated looking up at her from bleary eyes in the now fully illuminated bar.
For the second time in twenty-four hours the effects of heavy alcohol consumption washed over her body, and blurred her mind, the room spun a little. Propped up against the bar where she'd sat herself for most of the night as the Saturday patrons literally came and went around her. Moving on from diluted down vodka mixed with Cranberry she'd not diverted far to neat bounce Vodkas. Drinking alone hadn't been without its pitfalls. A succession of male suitors had accosted her across the night. The predictable offer of a drink in exchange for her company had grown irksome. Nonetheless she'd entertained and indulged them. If they wanted to buy her drinks who was she to say no or turn down such an offer. Her foul mood and the assistance of her little Irish guardian Angel had ensured they hadn't stayed interested for too long. Despite one attempted grope and kiss which had brought quite a scene with her knee meeting his genitals before several burly door staff had escorted him from the premises at the behest of the Bar Manager who'd made himself known to her across the evening.
"She'll be fine" Jessica heard the male voice from behind her. Turning to watch him, the Bar Manager, set two handfuls of empty glasses on to the bar, "I'll see she's fine ...I'll call her that Cab."
"That fills me with no reassurance Steve" Jessica heard the Irish girl say, picking up in something in her tone.
"I'm offended..." Jessica heard him say "...What are you suggesting?"
"I'm suggesting that I know you?"
"And I'm saying get going before I sack you."
Jessica smiled softly though bleary eyes as she watched the light-hearted exchange, amused somewhat by the gentle verbal jostle of the colleagues as she stood there between the two of them, the last three souls remaining in the venue. The camaraderie evident she thought to herself as she clumsily reached for what little remained of the last of her drink, nearly knocking the glass over before clutching it. Taking a sip, she turned to face the Irish girl, whose name escaped her yet again.
"I'll be fine..." she stated raising a brow "...I'll be fine, honestly."
Jessica caught the little shake of the head, she tried to concentrate on the girl's facial expression, her mind distracted, drifting once again on what she'd said her name was.
"Get in that Cab and go home." the pale redhead implored her.
"I will." Jessica stated draining her glass feeling a fresh wave of nausea wash over her, "I'm gonna".
"Promise me."
"I promise you," she looked back at the male behind her and focussing, as best she could, he was well built but not what she would class as handsome, something about him she'd taken to across the evening as he'd humoured her and engaged in partial conversation whilst serving drinks that much to her frustration the little Irish redhead had attempted to curtail. She watched him step away pressing a phone up to his ear, presumably calling her the cab that had been spoken of.
"Don't trust him" the Irish girl said backing away.
"Pfft" Jessica scoffed "He's harmless".
"Oh no he's not... he's certainly not."
 
                             
                         
                         
                         
                         
                         
                                 
                                 
                                 
                                