Chapter 3: The Email
Rogue and Remy went their separate ways for the rest of that day, Remy wanting to pour over some of the blue prints from the centre to figure out other ways of entering the building and stealing the chemicals, and Rogue kept herself entertained by reading the book she'd brought with her.
Later, in the evening, Rogue went to the living room, a brand new computer had been set up in there and she was intent of trying it out – intent on emailing Kitty.
She was hoping Kitty would have some useful advice to give her, on how she could tell Remy about the Jared situation without hurting him.
She logged herself on, waiting anxiously, tapping her fingers absently on the desk. "Come on," she complained about slow loading time. When finally, the computer had loaded up she logged onto her Hotmail account, the only email showing up there was not from Kitty, but from Jared. How Jared had got her email address, she wasn't sure. She sighed and opened it.
***********************************Email Start***************************************
Rogue,
You haven't told him yet, have you? You know you want to be with me, why are you wasting time with that southern wanker, why not have some respect for yourself – and be mines.
- Jared.
***********************************Email End***************************************
Rogue frowned, and immediately deleted the email, furious with Jared, and most of all herself. She had to ask herself why she was letting Jared get to her this way? She sighed, she didn't even feel like emailing Kitty anymore, despite she needed the advice desperately.
She hated this feeling. She liked Jared, she really did, she was even attracted to him, and the way he was acting lately was definitely not helping matters. She wanted to continue liking him, but she knew it was going to be impossible – especially if he kept acting the way he did.
I don't want to be with him, she thought at herself angrily. I don't.
And she thought she meant this, but when she thought of the dream from earlier that morning…it almost seemed as if she did want to be with Jared. Why else in her dream would she have told Remy that Jared had more to offer than he did?
"What you up to?"
Rogue turned as Remy entered the room, quickly, she closed internet explorer. "I was checking my email."
"Kitty emailing you?"
"Nope, nothing in the email at all," Rogue lied, she turned her chair around, "I thought you were pouring over blueprints for a way in?"
"I've looked over them again and again," he admitted, "nothing is showing up, I need a break," he sighed.
"Me too," Rogue chewed the inside of her cheek.
"There's nothing to do on this godforsaken island," Remy groaned, he sat down on the couch, resting his head back tiredly.
"Wanna go to the pub?" Rogue asked casually, she looked at him hopefully.
"You're not eighteen," Remy reminded, "You need to be eighteen to drink in there, Chere."
"Big fat hairy deal," Rogue put her feet up on the desk, "hasn't stopped me before has it?" she shrugged.
"It should, considering the last time you—" he stopped himself, he'd been about to bring up the rape again, he cursed at himself mentally, "I mean it should stop you because it's not very lady like."
"Who ever said I was a lady?" Rogue pointed out.
Remy pressed his tongue against his cheek, "Besides, that pub is just full of scoundrels, and criminals…and in places like that…there's usually a great deal of harassment for women."
"Big deal," Rogue shrugged, "you're there to protect me, right?"
Remy was about to try and convince her not to go, but in the end, he knew she'd get her way, "alright…" he sighed. "We'll go, just for a little while…"
"Rogue, Chere, don't you think you should take it easy now?" Remy asked, as he watched Rogue down her sixth shot glass of Aftershock, a red substance that tasted like aniseed, and had a very strong alcoholic kick.
Rogue grinned drunkenly, her lips slightly stained red by the stuff, "you are paranoid, Remy, will you just relax?" she asked.
"Yeah, relax, we don't exactly fit in here," Remy muttered, staring down into his pint of lager. He'd had only two pints of lager, and was already feeling sick of the beverage. He was more concerned on how he'd get Rogue back home in a drunken condition, especially with Moira and Sean on the prowl now. Rogue was un-chaperoned, but if she showed up drunk and staggering, Moira would probably insist she be sent back to Bayville, and Rogue would probably never be trusted again.
"It never bothered you before…" Rogue stated, she watched him rolling up a cigarette. Her head was pleasantly swimming, although the strange almost mouthwash-like taste of the Aftershock was leaving an almost burning sensation on her throat.
"Yeah, well, a lot changes, doesn't it?" he ran his tongue along the edge of the cigarette paper, concentrating on rolling the perfect cigarette.
Rogue rested back against the bench of the booth they were sitting in, she tapped her foot to the sound of some Scottish jig being played live by a band on a makeshift stage. The pub was crawling with locals from the small village. Mostly fishermen or men who worked in the dock. The place was teeming with smoke, and the smell of beer, and the light was dingy at best. Rogue had never been fond of the place, although she'd come in before.
Remy lit the cigarette, and took a long drag, then exhaled the smoke through his nostrils, he watched over the pub, keeping an eye on the particularly dangerous looking me, and hoped that his being a stranger to these parts wouldn't cause them any trouble.
He had the strange sensation of being watched, but couldn't locate anyone in particular who seemed to be looking at him. Everyone would glance to him and Rogue every so often, but no one seemed to be watching as intently as he could feel.
Rogue leaned forward, her elbows propped on the table, "you seem edgy…"
"I dunno, I feel like I'm being watched," He looked around suspiciously, flicking his cigarette at the ashtray.
Rogue leaned a little closer, "yes, by me. Stop being so paranoid…" she reached over and touched his hand.
"Sorry, I'm not making this a fun night for you, am I?" he looked at her apologetically.
"Not really," Rogue smirked, "But you have the rest of your life to make it up to me," she said playfully, she watched him take another look around the room. Maybe now would be a good time to tell him about Jared. He'd had a few drinks, but unfortunately not enough that she could tell him and he wouldn't remember the next day. And she herself had already had too many drinks to want to blurt something as important as this out.
"I'm gonna go get another shot, you want one?" Rogue asked, standing up.
"Chere, you've had enough," Remy grabbed a hold of her wrist to stop her, "please…no more."
"Jesus, Remy, I have some kind of tolerance to alcohol," Rogue rolled her eyes, pulling away.
Remy realised he couldn't stop her – here strength was far too much for him to hold back successfullyh – and so, he let her go.
Rogue headed over to the bar, "two aftershocks," she ordered, "red," she added, referring to the flavour, knowing it came in varied flavours.
The bartender headed off to pour her drinks, she leaned against the bar casually, looking around absently.
"How about a dance, lass?"
Rogue turned to her left, an older man, maybe in his mid forties, was standing near her, he wore too much aftershave, and hadn't shaved recently, she made a face, "No thank you," she said.
"Too good for me, is that it?" he frowned.
"I'm here with my boyfriend," Rogue responded, she gestured towards Remy who was sitting alone at the booth, "he's the jealous type."
"Is he now," said the Man, he staggered a little, drunk, "well, I don't think he has much say in this, are you going to dance with me or not?"
"No, I don't want to dance, thank you for asking, but no," Rogue paid for her drinks and was about to head back to her table.
"Fuckin' slut."
Rogue heard it, muttered under the guys breath, something about it made her grasp the shot glasses in her hand so hard she heard them break in her hand, and red liquid spilled to the floor and onto her gloves. "What did you just call me?!" she demanded, turning back, anger beginning to grow inside of her self, and with the alcohol in her, she felt far braver than she might have any other time.
"I said you're a fuckin' little slut, look at you, dressed in your little skin tight clothes, and your makeup spread on thick, you're no better than a fucking prostitute."
Rogue gaped, she'd never been called anything as bad in her life, "shut your fucking mouth…" she hissed.
"If I pay you maybe you'll dance, huh?!" he pushed her against the bar, pressing himself up against her, he had her gloved hands pinned to the edge of the bar, and even with her strength she felt almost unable to move. And visions overtook her, visions of being on the floor in the private bathroom in a nightclub, with a half naked man on her, pressing weight against her, hurting her, penetrating, and taking her innocence. She felt tears sting her eyes as she was pinned, feeling trapped.
Rogue felt frozen in fear, mouth trembling, body shaking violently.
As if almost out of nowhere, a silver pole swung out and hit the guy on the side of the head. The guy wavered for a moment, swaying to one side, then another, and then dropped.
Remy stood holding his bo-staff, "she be my woman, you piece of shit," he muttered.
Rogue didn't even wait for Remy to look at her, she dashed for the doors, throwing them open, she ran along the path and staggered sideways into the grass falling to her knees, breathless, panicked.
"Chere…" She felt Remy's hands pulling her up, "stand up straight…breathe deep…"
But she couldn't, her breath was coming out in fast gasps, chest rising and falling quickly, her head swimming, her face tingling, her fingers suddenly beginning to grow numb. And her breathing became harder, louder gasps.
"Chere, stand straight," Remy hung onto her, she was hunched over, hyperventilating, and he had barely enough medical knowledge to know how to handle it. "Chere, breathe deep!"
The numbness ascended to up her hands, and arms, and her legs soon began to feel numb, and gave out from under her.
"Chere!" Remy pleaded, "please, listen to me, breathe slow…take in deep breaths, please!"
Everything soon went black.