It had been several days ago, when Dakota Steele was sitting there at the bar in the Red Dragon Inn, black acoustic guitar in his lap as usual. He had just been sitting at his stool, picking out different chords, just trying to find anything that sounded good.
He started playing again a little over a week ago, when an amazing 4'8 fireball named Rosie O'Del came into his life, and provided him with the inspiration he needed to pick it up again.
As he sat there, trying to follow up a song that he wrote for Rosie with something else, it was becoming obviously clear how frustrated Dakota was. He couldn't make any words flow, couldn't come up with ANYTHING. Rhyming is supposed to be the easiest thing in the world...blue, shoe, you...anybody can do that. Right then, Dakota couldn't put anything together.
That's when he spotted something sitting on the other side of the bar that caught his eye.
A lone whiskey bottle....Jack Daniel's, to be more specific.
Lord, how many of those bottles had Dakota been through in his lifetime? Hundreds more than he could possibly begin to count. It was a miracle his liver hadn't already shut down, as much damage as he had probably done to it over the years.
That bottle sat there, with that beautiful golden liquid inside of it....calling him over for a drink. He could almost literally hear the devil in his head that urged him, "Go on...take a drink. You've been clean for several weeks now. As far as you've come, you owe it to yourself to just take a shot and celebrate your accomplishments. Go on...just one shot..."
As Dakota sat there, beginning to feel his blood burn for that bottle, he had another image come to mind....the angelic face of a 4'8 beauty who was so legitimately proud of him over how far he had come. He knew she wouldn't leave him over having a drink of whiskey, but the problem lied in the fact that with him, there never was just one drink. In his day, he prided himself on being able to drink anyone under the table, and when he got good and liquored up, he became about the meanest bastard you ever saw.
Rosie hadn't seen that side of him yet...
God forbid Rosie EVER see that side of him.
That image was all it took to shake off that thirst, and he simply sighed quietly. How in the world do some people function every day without depending on alcohol.
It was almost like learning to live again....and he felt like it was absolutely killing him....
With that thought, Dakota froze momentarily, and a slight smile came over his face as he began to write some lyrics.
Days would pass, and Dakota and Rosie's budding romance continued to bloom. Oh, there was no question he was in love with this woman. She had him completely sewn up.
Yesterday morning, Rosie became the unwilling victim of a vampire by the name of Natalia. As Dakota walked downstairs from his room around lunchtime.. (he was a notorious day sleeper) ..and found out what had happened, along with seeing how tramautized Rosie was over the whole incident, the outlaw was pissed beyond words. He swore right there that Natalia had herself a debt to pay, and Dakota WOULD be the one to ensure she pays up.
Couple hours later, Dakota came across his old friend Charlotte, who had some history with Natalia herself. After telling her about his intentions, Charlotte quickly became infuriated with him, reminding him that she was still a person, not to mention a female..and that alone should be reason enough for Dakota not to touch her.
He couldn't begin to understand where his old friend was coming from on this, and the longer the argument went, the more pissed he was becoming at her. Finally, he had seen and heard enough from Charlotte, so he simply turned his back on her, facing a solid oak wall.
There was only one way Dakota dealt with anger...that was with violence, and he began to unload on that wall, delivering five shots with his left fist that would have been enough to floor even the biggest of men.
Unfortunately, this was a wall, and it wasn't floored...
Charlotte screamed at him to stop, and when he finally did, he was vaguely aware that he had just screwed up majorly. The argument would continue for a short while longer before Dakota simply stormed out of there, glancing down at his bloodied hand long enough to come to the realization that he couldn't close it into a fist.
Hours would pass before Dakota returned to the Inn that day, and there he saw his love sitting by herself at the bar, wearing his black Stetson hat. He absolutely loved seeing her in that hat, and it immediately brought a smile to his face, despite the ungodly amount of pain that was shooting through his left hand. Trying his best to keep that hand hidden from public view, he embraced his love, wanting to make sure she was alright after that morning's encounter with Natalia. His friend, Brian Ravenlock, was there as well, and upon being told of what happened to Rosie, Brian simply lost it. He already hated Natalia, and he decided that the line had been crossed right then and right there. Natalia WOULD pay for the people she had caused to suffer. Dakota sat there, listening to his friend rant and rave, and actually half-heartedly repeated what Charlotte had said to him. Maybe they shouldn't attack Natalia....after all, she was still a person, not to mention a female, blah, blah, blah. It was obvious Dakota was just repeating lines that had he had heard somewhere else. Brian began to practically interrogate him, demanding to know who had made him say that.
"It was me..."
The voice belonged to Brian's wife, Charlotte. She was pissed at Dakota for wanting to attack Natalia, but he wasn't going to let him take the fall over trying to protect her either. This began a practically instant fight between the Ravenlocks, causing Dakota and Rosie to simply turn their backs on the situation, as it had quickly become none of their business. Absent mindedly, Dakota had laid his mangled up left hand on the bar, and upon seeing it, Rosie was horrified. She wanted to know what happened, and Dakota tried to joke about it..
"Had an argument with the wall....the wall won.."
Charlotte quickly corrected him, telling Rosie..
"He was angry with me, and he needed someplace to direct the anger other than me, so he hit the wall over and over again.."
After the argument between Charlotte and Brian cooled off, she asked Dakota to step out onto the porch so they could talk. It was there that Charlotte revealed her true reason for not wanting him to go after Natalia. She had seen what holding hatred for Natalia had done to her husband. It had consumed him, and she didn't want Rosie to have to suffer the same thing if Dakota had gotten involved with making Natalia pay for her crimes. Charlotte was legitimately happy for Dakota and Rosie, and she wanted them to be happy. Well, after things were patched up, and hurt feelings repaired, Charlotte and Dakota came back into the Inn. From there, she carefully looked his horribly broken hand over. He refused to have it healed, as he wanted the pain to serve as a reminder that he needed to work on his incredibly short fuse, but he did accept her offer to at least set it into place.
The next few minutes consisted of ungodly pain.
With every pop, every snap, Dakota let out a stream of profanities that would make any sailor or truck driver hide his face in shame. It became so bad that Rosie couldn't stand to watch it anymore, and she had to run to the bathroom while Dakota's agony continued. By the time it was finally over, tears were streaking his face and he had gone down to his knees, holding that left hand. It was set in place, so that it would heal properly on its own, but it was incapacitated for quite a while.
Dakota does EVERYTHING with his left hand...
Guitar playing was gone..
Fighting was gone..
Working around the Ravenlock's Villa, soon to become his new home, had become extremely limited, leaving himself with a serious sense of worthlessness....
Training himself to do simple, everyday tasks with his right hand has become a chore in itself for Dakota. Every time he tries to pick up his guitar, his inability to even hold the pick serves as a quick reminder that that ain't gonna be happening for QUITE a while.
As for Rosie...well, he knows that she'll be right there by his side, and he can only hope that when the day ever comes that she needs him to help her like this, that he'll be able to mean half as much to her, as she has meant to him.
He started playing again a little over a week ago, when an amazing 4'8 fireball named Rosie O'Del came into his life, and provided him with the inspiration he needed to pick it up again.
As he sat there, trying to follow up a song that he wrote for Rosie with something else, it was becoming obviously clear how frustrated Dakota was. He couldn't make any words flow, couldn't come up with ANYTHING. Rhyming is supposed to be the easiest thing in the world...blue, shoe, you...anybody can do that. Right then, Dakota couldn't put anything together.
That's when he spotted something sitting on the other side of the bar that caught his eye.
A lone whiskey bottle....Jack Daniel's, to be more specific.
Lord, how many of those bottles had Dakota been through in his lifetime? Hundreds more than he could possibly begin to count. It was a miracle his liver hadn't already shut down, as much damage as he had probably done to it over the years.
That bottle sat there, with that beautiful golden liquid inside of it....calling him over for a drink. He could almost literally hear the devil in his head that urged him, "Go on...take a drink. You've been clean for several weeks now. As far as you've come, you owe it to yourself to just take a shot and celebrate your accomplishments. Go on...just one shot..."
As Dakota sat there, beginning to feel his blood burn for that bottle, he had another image come to mind....the angelic face of a 4'8 beauty who was so legitimately proud of him over how far he had come. He knew she wouldn't leave him over having a drink of whiskey, but the problem lied in the fact that with him, there never was just one drink. In his day, he prided himself on being able to drink anyone under the table, and when he got good and liquored up, he became about the meanest bastard you ever saw.
Rosie hadn't seen that side of him yet...
God forbid Rosie EVER see that side of him.
That image was all it took to shake off that thirst, and he simply sighed quietly. How in the world do some people function every day without depending on alcohol.
It was almost like learning to live again....and he felt like it was absolutely killing him....
With that thought, Dakota froze momentarily, and a slight smile came over his face as he began to write some lyrics.
Days would pass, and Dakota and Rosie's budding romance continued to bloom. Oh, there was no question he was in love with this woman. She had him completely sewn up.
Yesterday morning, Rosie became the unwilling victim of a vampire by the name of Natalia. As Dakota walked downstairs from his room around lunchtime.. (he was a notorious day sleeper) ..and found out what had happened, along with seeing how tramautized Rosie was over the whole incident, the outlaw was pissed beyond words. He swore right there that Natalia had herself a debt to pay, and Dakota WOULD be the one to ensure she pays up.
Couple hours later, Dakota came across his old friend Charlotte, who had some history with Natalia herself. After telling her about his intentions, Charlotte quickly became infuriated with him, reminding him that she was still a person, not to mention a female..and that alone should be reason enough for Dakota not to touch her.
He couldn't begin to understand where his old friend was coming from on this, and the longer the argument went, the more pissed he was becoming at her. Finally, he had seen and heard enough from Charlotte, so he simply turned his back on her, facing a solid oak wall.
There was only one way Dakota dealt with anger...that was with violence, and he began to unload on that wall, delivering five shots with his left fist that would have been enough to floor even the biggest of men.
Unfortunately, this was a wall, and it wasn't floored...
Charlotte screamed at him to stop, and when he finally did, he was vaguely aware that he had just screwed up majorly. The argument would continue for a short while longer before Dakota simply stormed out of there, glancing down at his bloodied hand long enough to come to the realization that he couldn't close it into a fist.
Hours would pass before Dakota returned to the Inn that day, and there he saw his love sitting by herself at the bar, wearing his black Stetson hat. He absolutely loved seeing her in that hat, and it immediately brought a smile to his face, despite the ungodly amount of pain that was shooting through his left hand. Trying his best to keep that hand hidden from public view, he embraced his love, wanting to make sure she was alright after that morning's encounter with Natalia. His friend, Brian Ravenlock, was there as well, and upon being told of what happened to Rosie, Brian simply lost it. He already hated Natalia, and he decided that the line had been crossed right then and right there. Natalia WOULD pay for the people she had caused to suffer. Dakota sat there, listening to his friend rant and rave, and actually half-heartedly repeated what Charlotte had said to him. Maybe they shouldn't attack Natalia....after all, she was still a person, not to mention a female, blah, blah, blah. It was obvious Dakota was just repeating lines that had he had heard somewhere else. Brian began to practically interrogate him, demanding to know who had made him say that.
"It was me..."
The voice belonged to Brian's wife, Charlotte. She was pissed at Dakota for wanting to attack Natalia, but he wasn't going to let him take the fall over trying to protect her either. This began a practically instant fight between the Ravenlocks, causing Dakota and Rosie to simply turn their backs on the situation, as it had quickly become none of their business. Absent mindedly, Dakota had laid his mangled up left hand on the bar, and upon seeing it, Rosie was horrified. She wanted to know what happened, and Dakota tried to joke about it..
"Had an argument with the wall....the wall won.."
Charlotte quickly corrected him, telling Rosie..
"He was angry with me, and he needed someplace to direct the anger other than me, so he hit the wall over and over again.."
After the argument between Charlotte and Brian cooled off, she asked Dakota to step out onto the porch so they could talk. It was there that Charlotte revealed her true reason for not wanting him to go after Natalia. She had seen what holding hatred for Natalia had done to her husband. It had consumed him, and she didn't want Rosie to have to suffer the same thing if Dakota had gotten involved with making Natalia pay for her crimes. Charlotte was legitimately happy for Dakota and Rosie, and she wanted them to be happy. Well, after things were patched up, and hurt feelings repaired, Charlotte and Dakota came back into the Inn. From there, she carefully looked his horribly broken hand over. He refused to have it healed, as he wanted the pain to serve as a reminder that he needed to work on his incredibly short fuse, but he did accept her offer to at least set it into place.
The next few minutes consisted of ungodly pain.
With every pop, every snap, Dakota let out a stream of profanities that would make any sailor or truck driver hide his face in shame. It became so bad that Rosie couldn't stand to watch it anymore, and she had to run to the bathroom while Dakota's agony continued. By the time it was finally over, tears were streaking his face and he had gone down to his knees, holding that left hand. It was set in place, so that it would heal properly on its own, but it was incapacitated for quite a while.
Dakota does EVERYTHING with his left hand...
Guitar playing was gone..
Fighting was gone..
Working around the Ravenlock's Villa, soon to become his new home, had become extremely limited, leaving himself with a serious sense of worthlessness....
Training himself to do simple, everyday tasks with his right hand has become a chore in itself for Dakota. Every time he tries to pick up his guitar, his inability to even hold the pick serves as a quick reminder that that ain't gonna be happening for QUITE a while.
As for Rosie...well, he knows that she'll be right there by his side, and he can only hope that when the day ever comes that she needs him to help her like this, that he'll be able to mean half as much to her, as she has meant to him.