Sorry for the long wait, it's been hectic the past few days! Quick explanation - I will need another two chapters to round the story off, HOWEVER I will put them up in the same night so that I technically didn't break my promise of this being the last chapter. Well sort of :S
So enjoy and reviewwwww! X
Chapter 17
Jenny tilted her head back and allowed the tequila to trickle down her throat, burning as it went. With every drink, she felt a little less; a pleasant numbness enveloped her more and more as the evening went by, which was a very welcome relief. The middle aged barman was wiping a glass clean, and giving her a look of polite concern as she slammed the shot glass down on the bar.
"Same again please," she said, aware that her words were slightly slurred.
"Don't you think you've had enough love?" he asked gently.
"No," she answered bluntly.
"Look, maybe I should phone you a taxi - "
"No!" Jenny snapped, fishing a ten pound note out of her purse and throwing it on the bar. "I've got the money, so just pour me the damn drink!"
The barman sighed, and turned away from her to pour her out a fresh glass. Jenny's mobile buzzed violently on the bar next to her, making her start. She looked at the number, and saw that it was Sarah, so she flipped it open.
"Hello?"
"Jenny, where are you? You weren't here when I got in," Sarah's voice said, sounding anxious.
"In some bar, why?"
"What bar?" Sarah demanded.
"I don't know, one on Brownlow road," Jenny replied casually.
"Just . . . wait there, I'll come and get you - "
"Sarah, I'm fine I don't need you to come and get me!" Jenny snapped; why was everyone treating her like an invalid!
"Just don't move, okay?" she replied, sounding aspirated, before hanging up the phone.
Scowling, Jenny snapped her phone shut just as the barman was bringing her the drink. He placed a bag of crisps that she hadn't asked for next to her also.
"Eat something," he stated, giving her a stern look.
Jenny glared up at him, feeling herself swaying on the stool. Shrugging, he walked back off up the bar as she pounded another tequila; the crisps lay on the bar untouched. In the corner, she could see a bunch of men eyeing her up blatantly, but she ignored them. That is until one of them eventually came over and perched on the stool next to her.
"What's a pretty girl like you doing drinking alone?" he smiled cheesily.
She looked round at him, fighting to keep her head steady, and let out a laugh. He looked about twenty years old, and had dark blonde longish hair that swept around his face. From behind him, his friends were jeering and catcalling, making her cringe inwardly.
"Can I get you another drink?" he asked hopefully.
"No," she replied sharply.
"Oh come on," he persisted, gesturing over to the barman. "Another one won't hurt. I'm Pete by the way."
"Well Pete," Jenny said abruptly. "Even though you seem to have the IQ of a six-year-old, I think that even you can work out that I'm not interested. So you can go and try your outdated chat-up lines on some one who gives a damn. And then maybe if your lucky, you'll end up going home with someone other than your own hand, okay?"
"God, you have an acid tongue," the man called Pete replied, sounding more amused than offended.
"Just go away," Jenny slurred as the barman placed two glasses of red wine in front of Pete, giving him an stern look as he did so.
"I've got you a drink now, the least you can do is have it with me."
Jenny didn't reply, but scowled heavily as she took the glass he offered her - she was in no mood for this. He watched her take a large gulp.
"Do you know you're really beautiful?" he said eventually.
"Am I Pete?" she said sarcastically. "Thanks, I feel so much better about myself now that I know some loser in a grotty bar finds me attractive."
"So I take it you don't receive complements well?"
"How many languages can you say get lost in?" Jenny retorted, still nursing her glass of wine.
"Several actually," he gloated, seemingly oblivious to Jenny's disdain.
"Look Pete," Jenny snapped, losing her patience. "I'm sure you're really nice, but you can ply me with as much wine as you want . . . it's not going to happen. All the alcohol in the world wouldn't make me jump into bed with you. So why don't you save yourself some time, and take the little dignity you have left and go rejoin your friends."
Pete paused, looking as though he was about to say something, but he thought better of it. Sighing, he got up and walked back to his friends; as he sat down, they all laughed and patted him on the back in a teasing manner.
Jenny returned to her drink.
A mist had descended over Jenny's vision as she lent her head against her arm that was resting on the bar. She had no idea what time it was, or how long she'd been there; all she knew is that her head was swirling violently, and she was fighting back the urge to vomit. The barman had placed a pint of water next to her in the futile hope that she'd drink it, but at the time, she could no more coordinate her hand to pick it up than she could fly. In her haze, she could hear Brookes's voice as clear as though he was sitting beside her.
'I knew you'd come' . . . 'tease' . . . 'I'll be free to pay you a visit' . . . 'see how your life's getting along' . . . 'have I been in your head, Jenny?'
She felt a hand close around her shoulder, making her jump. It was that Pete guy.
"Come on darling, I'll take you home," his voice said as though from a great distance away.
"No . . ." Jenny said faintly, trying to pull herself away from him.
"Come on," he repeated, pulling her so insistently that she almost fell off her stool.
"Get off . . ."
"Jenny?" a shocked voice said from the doorway.
It was Cutter.
Sarah had phoned Cutter a while back and had told him that Jenny was in some bar, although it had taken him a while to be able to locate the place. Sarah was obviously worried about her, and to tell the truth, so was Cutter. He hadn't seen her for a few days, so he hadn't even had the opportunity to explain to her about Brookes. But this was definitely not like Jenny at all; staying out and drinking 'till all hours. He knew her more than anybody did, and she was not the type of woman to drink this much.
He stopped outside one of the many bars on Brownlow road, hoping that five times was a charm. It didn't look like the type of place Jenny would usually hang out in, but he thought he might as well try it - she wasn't answering her mobile, so he had no other choice but to wander aimlessly around in the hopes of spotting her. He had the feeling that Sarah would have been more than capable of doing this herself, especially since Jenny was practically living with her, but he suspected that she was trying to throw them together to make them talk. Not the he was complaining - he was eager to talk to Jenny himself, but she didn't seem to want to, and whether it was just a temporary thing, he was unsure of, and afraid to ask.
He pushed the door open, and with a jolt, he spotted Jenny perched on a stool at the bar, swaying alarmingly. Some guy seemed to be pawing her shoulder, and her efforts to shrug him off seemed futile.
"Jenny?" he gapped, feeling jealousy pulsate through him.
She turned, her eyes looking slightly unfocused.
"Nick?" she said, sounding surprised.
He strode over, surveying the man next to her with cold confusion.
"What's going on?"
"Listen, mate," the man began, his hand still on Jenny's shoulder. "This is a private conversation - "
Cutter shoved him in his chest so that he staggered backwards, his anger spilling over.
"Back off," he snarled, putting his arms around Jenny's waist protectively to help her up.
She was either completely oblivious to the other guys presence, or else she didn't really care - it seemed to take her all the energy she had to get to her feet. She staggered against Cutter, grabbing his shirt to steady herself, and he was forced to told her tighter to stop her from collapsing.
"Come on," he said to her, glaring at the man as he steered her towards the exit with difficulty.
How he managed to get her to his car, he'd never know, but before long he was helping her into the passengers seat. As he got in himself, he slammed the door shut with unnecessary force, his anger winning out over concern.
"What the hell's gotten into you?" he yelled, watching as her head lolled on the back of the seat.
"Don't start," she said quietly, her eyes closed.
"Christ, it's like dealing with a teenager!"
"I said don't start," she said louder, placing her finger and thumb on the bridge of her nose.
He sighed, wanting to keep venting, but by the look of her, she wouldn't remember any of this in the morning anyway, so he let it drop.
"I'll drive you back to Sarah's," he muttered, but he was pretty sure she could no longer hear him.
Sarah was curled up on her chair by the fire, her head buried deep in a book that she had barely been able to put down since she'd started reading it. Tonight, however, she couldn't concentrate on the storyline as efficiently as she usually did. It had been a couple of hours since she had sent Cutter to find Jenny, and if she was honest, she expected them back by now. She had no idea if it was a good thing or a bad thing that there was no word from them; either it meant that they had sorted things out and gone back to Cutter's, or that he hadn't managed to track her down yet. She hoped it was the former, as it would be a real shame if they let Brookes come between them. Not that Sarah was bothered about Jenny staying at her place; in fact she quite liked it. Since the attack, Sarah had been slightly on edge herself, and having Jenny around was a massive comfort. That, and the fact that she enjoyed her company meant that in a way, Sarah would be sorry to see her go, but that was selfish - she loved Cutter and Jenny together. They made each other happy, which had a positive effect on the team. Both of them were just those type of people - if they were happy, so was everyone else, but if they were in a mood, then so was everyone else; Sarah supposed it was because they were the sort-of leaders of the group that everyone looked to, and if they were off balance, it filtered down to everyone else.
Sometimes, Sarah just wanted to bang their heads together and tell them to stop being so childish. As an impartial observer, she could see why their relationship worked on the most part, but had the ability to implode at the drop of a hat. They were both two incredibly intelligent, passionate, stubborn individuals who had short tempers and found it difficult to trust anyone. In essence, they were the equivalent of each other. However, it was a bad thing when they argued - neither one of them would back down or apologise for their actions, and neither were willing to compromise, or justify their opinions to the other. The typical cliche applies to their relationship: 'when it's good, it's very very good, but when it's bad . . .' well when it's bad, the team tend to keep out of the way to avoid either one venting their spleen on them.
This was a difficult situation, however. From what Jenny had explained, it sounds like there had been no argument . . . well not really. It was more a matter of Jenny going through something (Brookes, namely), and Cutter not quite knowing how to handle it. Men. However, it was neither of their faults, and yet in a way that made it worse - how was anything ever going to get sorted out if there was no one to apologise?
Since they had visited Brookes in the hospital, Sarah had noticed a rather obvious change in Jenny's behavior. She was screening Cutter's calls, avoiding any conversation about the matter . . . and then there was the drinking. Now, Sarah knew that Jenny could drink as much as the next girl, more so even; they had been on a few nights out that involved way too many cocktails and a rather slippery floor in a club. But now . . . she was drinking very heavily. To block out the pain, perhaps? Whether it was the pain of the bad memories, or the pain of her relationship breakdown, Sarah could only guess, but either way, the girl needed a good wake up call.
Sarah's thought's were stopped by a bang on her front door. Curiously, she put down her book and went to answer it. When she opened the door, she saw Cutter, looking furious, carrying an unconscious Jenny in his arms. Her head rested against his chest, one of her arms were draped around his neck, and the other was hanging awkwardly outwards.
"Where do you want her?" Cutter asked in a monotone voice.
"Erm . . . bedroom," Sarah answered as she recovered from the surprise, pointing in the general direction of her room.
Without another word, Cutter carried her over, and through the gap in the doorway, Sarah saw him place her gently on her bed.
"What happened? Is she alright?" Sarah asked when he returned, looking thoroughly depressed.
"Well I'm guessing that most of her body weight is actually alcohol right now," Cutter mumbled, running her hand over his forehead.
"Right," Sarah said, looking at the floor awkwardly; a tiny part of her felt that Cutter blamed her for it since Jenny was staying at her place.
"Listen, Sarah," Cutter began, looking down at her with sad eyes. "There's something I've been meaning to tell her . . . but the way things are . . . it might be better if you do it."
"What is it?" Sarah asked, perplexed.
