What Happened to Goodbye?

Chapter 16

His eyes slammed shut, the disgrace that weighed on him was more than anyone could imagine.

"I can't do this again... I promised I would stop..." He chastised himself.

Over the last four months Dean had suffocated his sorrows with the disease of alcoholism; every night slowly getting closer to his end. He felt even though his expiration date was nearing that he could afford to drink himself close to death.

Before he could react, the twin doors to the pub swung open and he claimed the seat adjacent to the whiskey section.

The seductive bartender named 'Sherri' smirked at him.

"Well what can I get for you?" Her cherry red lipstick and pancaked makeup shimmered in the dim light.

Dean exhaled and thought for a second on his myriad of choices, "I'll take the strongest stuff you got, make it a double."

"Alrighty then, go big or go home right?" She clinked two shot glasses together and poured the silky brown liquid into them.

Sliding them towards the hunter, she propped her elbows into the extensive table; exposing her massive amounts of cleavage.

"So tell me why you want to get you want to get yourself drunk on a Monday night? You don't look like the unemployed type to me," She questioned then looked down at his left hand. A silver band circled itself around his ring-finger and Dean quickly stashed it away in his pocket, "Oh so there's a girl, huh?"

"Are you usually this intrusive?" He asked, trying to get away from the touchy subject.

"Only on Mondays sweetie," She batted her eyelashes as Dean downed the first shot in one large swig.

"Dang, you really can take your liquor," She observed.

"Well I've had plenty of practice in that area," He replied swishing the other cup of alcohol in his palm.

"And what other areas would there be?" Her fingers brushed up against his hand. A mixture of gray and blue eyes bore into his, and although unmistakable lust shone in them a blank void of despair also graced her expression.

His immediate reaction was to turn down her offer, but something inside of him craved revenge. It was a twisted thing and he knew it.

"Oh honey, I think you know exactly what 'other areas' there are."

Her lips curved into a mischievous smile, "I've got a room in the back we could go to, it's pretty small but we can manage."

He shook his head as she led him forward. Once they arrived a strong musky scent polluted the air, and Sherri pulled him onto the squeaky twin bed. She stood up elegantly and removed her tight V-neck top exposing her black lace bra.

Instantaneously, she ravenously straddled Dean without warning; whisking her hands down his back briskly. Their lips met and the hunter couldn't keep from cringing. Her mouth was sickeningly sweet, and her chapstick made them seem as if they oozed oil.

Dean extracted himself from her embrace and she looked at him with confused eyes.

"What's wrong?"

He had no answer for her, and the plethora of knots in his stomach gathering at the remembrance of her horrid kisses made him gag.

Wordlessly, Dean clutched into the miniature bin beside the door and vomited.

"Oh my God," she exclaimed, "are you alright?"

"I-" He was interrupted by the vibrations of his phone.

Sam had texted him saying, "Help."