Snippet #2627596

S C A R

It was early in the morning, at least 3am. The bar still had it's low life stragglers slouched over the bar, half passed out from the over consumption of alcohol. But it didn't really bother her, she was used to it. These were the regulars. Over in the far corner was the 50+ year old women, obviously widowed, drowning her feelings in her bottle of Captain. She was a sweet woman though, always tipped well. Then there was the two older gentlemen that liked their scotch while they played a single game of chess for hours. But the one that always bothered her was Chuck. He's like 30, and thinks he's the best thing since sliced bread. Every single night he comes in here, and every night he is always attempting to get Scar to come home with him. So to no surprise, he was back again tonight.

Sitting at the far left side of the bar, he wiggles his sausage of an index finger towards her. With a heavy sigh and a roll of her eyes, Scar reluctantly walked over to him. "The usual?" She said in a cold, monotonic voice.

"You know it doll face." He then winked his baby blues at her as she turned around to make his drink. Honestly, Scar did find him attractive. 6'4", brunette, muscular and eyes to die for. In another life maybe she would leave with him... but it wasn't, and she knew that love, lust or whatever that would be... well that wasn't in the cards. As she turned around to hand him his drink, everything changed. Chuck, well, Chuck was gone. In his place was an envelope. Crisp and cleanly folded, if she knew any better she wouldn't have even considered that it was from Chuck, let alone that he actually left it for her. But she did. Quickly before anyone could see, she snatched it up and shoved it into the back pocket of her old tattered jeans.

It was nearly 5am when the bar was finally closed and Scar made her way outside. Sitting there, lonely on the side of the road was her red Triumph Thruxton. Slowly walking over to it she thumbed over the now wrinkled envelope. She glanced down at the crumpled envelope for what seemed like forever before she set her helmet down on the seat of her bike, and then began to break the seal.

Was this a joke? Was he threatening her if she didn't go out with him? Or was that even from Chuck? The questions raced through her head, but more importantly so did the possible answers. Scar paced around furiously, trying to figure out of the meaning of all this. Until then it hit her. Like 5 ton brick wall right in the face. She froze mid step, only letting her gaze move down to once again glance over the page. Her hand began to tremble nearly causing her to drop the page. Does whoever gave her this know? Scar quickly crumpled up the invitation in her hand, then let it fall to the ground. She wasn't gone to stand by idly to threats, if that's what it was. She should leave town, or the country.

Scar rushed over to her bike, mounting it as she put on the helmet and snapped the chin strap. Turning on the Triumph before flipping up the kick stand with her right foot, Scar went to go put the car in motion, but stopped to look back towards the letter that was now rolling away down the street. She hesitated there for a minute, maybe she should go... maybe this could give her the answers she has so long searched for. With a sigh, Scar extended her right hand out in the direction of the running away note, and in a swift movement the crumpled letter changed course and flew directly into her palm. She then stuffed the note into the pocket of her leather jacket, pulled down the visor on her helmet, then drove off.

Scar was a little early, she usually was pretty punctual so it wasn't any surprise that she was about 10 minutes early. She slowly walked up the steps to the entrance. It hadn't even crossed her mind until she was walking up the stairs to the door that she might be extremely under dressed. Leather jacket, steal toed boots and ripped jeans were hardly "threatening invitation" worthy, but it was too late now. She did a double take when she saw the towering man in the entrance. She gulped at the sight of him. When asked for her cell phone, Scar rose her hands in a innocent manner, "Sorry Jeeves, don't have one."

She slowly made her way into the large entrance room. Already sitting there was a gentleman (Rob) looking like he could be of the same age as her. She made her way to the seat to the right of him, hanging her helmet on the corner of the back of the chair before taking a seat. She then glanced over at the man from beneath her messy auburn curls. "You weren't the one who gave me the invitation.... were you?" She couldn't help but chuckle softly. She knew he wasn't, but she really wasn't very good at breaking the ice.