18. Dark

Genre: Paranormal romance, drama

Type: Series
Characters: Tamsyn & mystery guy
Prompt:010. Dark

Word Count: 573

Warning: coarse language

Rating:  M- (coarse language, sexual situations, nudity. N.B-Applies to the whole series)

Summary: Interesting conversations take place at Waylon's Haunt

010. Dark

_________

Bridgeport, present day

It was the fifth night in a row she was there, and she was starting to feel like a regular. She’d even moved on to first name basis with the bartender.

“The usual?”

Tamsyn nodded. She absently watched the skillful way Gerri mixed her drink, Big Mistake.

“How was your day?” She asked, placing the glass in front of her.

“I don’t want to talk about it Gerri,” Tamsyn replied, and she was glad when the bartender didn’t push any further.

“Devon…What shall I do with you?” She ran a frail hand through her hair absently, mulling over the situation with her ex.

She could try and fight for him, but how? Where would she start? He didn’t want to marry her. Didn't want anything to do with her. Despite insisting things weren’t over between them, she knew they were. They were truly done. No doubt because of that bitch, Eloise, still warming up his sheets.

She seethed all over again when she remembered the way she’d caught them the other week.

She nursed the drink in her hand, enjoying the coldness from the glass. She wished she could take its coolness and place it in her raw heart. Maybe it would dull the ache, numb her a little.

“More!” She slapped the glass on the bar. Gerri gave her a wary look, but she waved her off. “More!” She repeated, drumming her finger on the surface.

Within seconds she was downing another glass, and for a while she stared into her half-empty glass, wondering how her life had turned out this way. She almost had it all…The perfect wedding, the good man, and a somewhat comfortable life…And then it had to all go up in smoke!

She felt so….angry. Something dark and scary was slowly brewing inside her, ready to take over her. Drinking kept it away. She understood now why her mother drank so much. She was keeping her own demons at bay.

“Is this seat taken?” Tamsyn looked up, gave the dark-haired vampire a once over before shrugging carelessly.

It wasn’t long before she and the vampire, whose name was too hard to pronounce, were well acquainted. He kept their drinks coming, and she kept the conversation flowing.

It started as a harmless rant. But before she knew what had consumed her, it had grown into a bitch fest about almost everything, from the horrible way Devon had treated her, right down to his stupid sister who worked for the Frosts.

“Did you say she works for the Frosts?” the vampire asked, his interest suddenly piqued.

“Yes…Keep up, will you?” Tamsyn slurred. “Anyway, Leigh didn’t want to take the job because that blood suc--” she caught herself before she could say the offensive word. She smiled, relieved, when the vampire gestured for her to continue.

“Yes, that man, Krisis almost ripped her apart and all because she looks like that dead actress, Laura Greene…” She didn't get to finish her tale; the vampire cut her off with his endless questions. He wanted to know how old Leigh was, where she stayed, where they lived before they came to Bridgeport.  Endless questions she would have been reluctant to answer if she was sober.

She closed her eyes for a second, trying to focus on a single object in the spinning room. When she opened them again, the vampire was gone.

“Mother fucking blood sucker!” She cussed. He left without refilling her drink.