Driving for over 2 hours landed her in a small town, close to the Canadian border. Never in her life did she need a drink more. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted a neon sign of a bar that was down the street from a motel. Perfect.
The truck was pulled into the parking lot of the motel. Within a half hour she had a key to the room she just booked for 2 days. Rogue had learned to push out thoughts that she did not need to focus on in order to keep her sanity in place several years ago. It was automatic. Every movement. Every choice made about how she was going to look was automatic.
A half hour later she had showered, rubbed lotion on her body, dressed in: a black bra, a matching thong, a short black skirt and a green shirt that showed plenty of her cleavage. She no longer had her powers, therefore she no longer needed to worry about anyone coming into contact with her skin. Her makeup was done. She blow dried her hair, styled it, put on her big black boots, and glanced at her self in the mirror. This was who she was. This was who she was going to be for the rest of her life. There was absolutely nothing she could do about the situation anymore. She is no longer a mutant. And she had never really been a human before... not since before Cody did she ever feel 'normal'.
She sighed and turned around. Grabbing her jacket, the motel key, and a wad of money that she had been saving up she left the motel with the thought of getting laid that night.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
The moment she walked into the bar she knew that she had grabbed the attention of at least half of the men who had been in the bar. Which was at least 12 men. Although there was a few women who were sprinkled throughout the place. It looked like the stereotypical truck stop bar. A smaller one perhaps, but one nonetheless. The smell of tobacco smoke radiated throughout the entire place. Billiard balls cracked loudly in the back ground. A jukebox was in the far corner that played nothing but semi-brutal music. The main bar had one large wooden counter top that extended for at least 15 feet and there was a lengthy shelves that held mildly expensive bottles of alcohol. Several tables lined the inside of the rest of the bar's space. It wasn't a place where massive amounts of people could hang out. It was more intimate than anything else. Just what she was looking for.
She walked over to the counter and sat on a wooden bar stool. "Ah'll have 2 beers."
"Sure thing Sweetness." The bartender pulled out two bottles of the usual brew and took off the tops for her. "That'll be 8 even."
Rogue handed him a ten from her roll of bills and instantly picked up one of the beers and took a long drink from it. Moose piss. Beer always tasted like moose piss to her. But hey, who gave a fuck? She was here to get drunk and score, not to necessarily like what she was drinking.
A big trucker with a beer gut came up and sat next to her. "Lemme buy you a drink Missy."
Rogue raised her eyebrow and a look of disgust settled on her face. She nodded to her two beers and muttered, "Looks like Ah'm all set. Leave me the hell alone."
"All I fuckin wanted was to buy ya a drink."
"No. Ya want t' get int' mah pants. That ain't gunna happen Sugah." [Because you're nothing but an ugly fuck. And Ah sure as hell don't want my first time to be with an ugly fuckin truck driver.]
"Fine. Be a bitch."
Rogue took another long ass drink of her beer before settling her attention to the fat ass in front of her. "Ya wanna call me that again?" The famous Southern attitude. That was exactly what he was going to get from this Southern Belle.
"I kinda wanna call you a cunt instead... Sugar."
"The lady told you to leave her alone." The voice that radiated from behind her seemed to be on the possessive side. And it was oh so familiar.
"Hey asshole. Stay out of this. This is between me and the Southern bitch."
"Do it again. I dare ya."
"What again?" Oh joy. Fat and stupid, what a lovely combination. By now Rogue had drained the rest of her beer out of the nervous waves of tension that echoed throughout the room.
"Call me an asshole again and I'll break your arm."
"HEY! If you guys are going to brawl, take it outside." The Bartender looked as though he was about to break out the shot gun he kept under the counter. Shooting her protector would be absolutely pointless. because of his healing factor. It would only piss him off. He would probably rip the bartender's head off after decimating the shotgun.
"Whatever. I'm out of here." The trucker sauntered off, muttering angrily to himself.
Rogue watched as he left. Fuck. She had to be alone with her protector now. Fuck her life.
The man took a seat right next to her and ordered a bottle of whiskey and a shot glass. Within moments He was given his choice of a poison and Rogue buried her thoughts and feelings into the beginning of her second beer. The silence was eating her alive. She couldn't talk about it. All she could do was allow her emerald eyes to fall on the face that she had seen many times.
When he looked back she found a hint of pain in his eyes.
"What are you staring at Kid?" He took a big Swig of his drink straight from the bottle.
"Nothing Victor. Nothing." Rogue stayed quiet and finished her beer before ordering 4 shots of Vodka.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I really hope these chapters get better as they go on. This is probably going to be a 15 or so chapter story. :D
[] -Rogue's thoughts
Mildly offensive language.
[] -Rogue's thoughts
Mildly offensive language.