Just one drink…
What could it hurt, right? She likes to think she's strong enough to stop after one. To pace herself. But, for Fiona Coyne one drink can so easily turn to many. She doesn't know how many, having lost count after the fourth. The night has been a blur since that fourth drink, a blur that somehow led to her in the back of the bar with some guy.
The young girl is up against the wall, the guy's hands groping at her body. Sliding up her skirt, pushing aside the small piece of fabric covering the place he wants to go. Feeling his fingers prodding, her heart races as she tries to push him off.
"No," she mumbles out. She tries to summon the strength to yell out, to push him away; but, she is too weak. As he thrusts into her, the girl mumbles; "No, please." But, her pleas go ignored.
One hand is on her arm, pinning it back against the wall. The other hand is slipping under her shirt, groping her breast. He thrusts faster, groaning; the sound makes her sick. She closes her eyes, waiting for it to be over.
"God, you feel so good," he tells her, and she clamps her eyes shut tighter as if that will make it go away.
It was probably only five minutes, but to Fiona it felt like forever. With a final thrust, he finishes; leaving her there, alone and used. She lets herself fall to the floor, her back sliding down the wall, as if she's lost the strength to hold herself up. Pulling her legs to her chest, she begins to cry.
She stays on the floor of the bar's storeroom until she can't cry anymore. Her tears have been used up, just like she has.
When she gets to her place, Fiona walks right through the living room, down the hallway, through her bedroom to her bathroom. Avoiding the mirror, not wanting to see the shell of the girl staring back at her. Stepping into her shower, she turns the water on; standing in the enclosed space with her clothes still on, not caring that she's probably ruining the designer clothing. She rests her head against the shower wall, still facing the knob. She turns it toward hot, and keeps turning until her skin burns.
Eventually, she peels off the wet clothes leaving them in a pile on the shower floor. Grabbing her loofah, dousing it with soap she scrubs. Everywhere he touched is scrubbed, hard. She scrubs until her arms hurt, giving up. She sits on the floor, her knees to her chest. The water beats down on her until it turns cold.
Eventually, she pulls herself off the floor. Shutting the water off before she exits, slipping on her silk robe. She goes to her room, lying down on her bed. She wants to sleep, to get this night over with. But, every time she closes her eyes she's haunted by him. She swears she can almost feel him on her. When sleep finally does come, her dreams are a swirl of nightmares. A mix of him, and Bobby. The memory of her and Bobby on the couch at her parents New York penthouse fills her head. Of how he forced her down onto the couch, how she tried fighting him off before he hit her for the first time. It all meshes together in some twisted blur.
Morning comes, Fiona forces herself up off the bed. She really needs a drink right now. There's no alcohol in her place, she's sure of this. She had been sober for three years before last night. This thought doesn't faze her right now, she doesn't care that she lost something she had worked so hard for. She puts on jeans and a sweater, pulling her messy hair up into a bun. Fiona catches her own eye in the mirror for a moment, quickly looking away. She can't stand to look at herself.
She realizes she left her clothes on the shower floor, going to pick them up before the housekeeper comes and finds them. She doesn't want to have to explain — not that the woman would necessarily ask her. In fact, Fiona's almost sure she wouldn't. The clothes are cold and wet, she picks them up in a pile throwing them in the trash. She doesn't want to see those clothes again.
Fiona walks along the aisles at the liquor store, picking up different bottles of wine and other various alcoholic beverages. She pays in cash, ignoring any stares she might get for buying so much alcohol so early in the morning. Going back to her place, she pops open a bottle and drinks. Hoping to erase the memories that have been haunting her.