Make Me Believe
A/N: I have other stories, I know, but I can't seem to get away from Taker right now. This story, in a lot of ways, is the answer to those of you who had a hard time swallowing Winter's choice at the end Nothing Compares. I like to think of it as the other side of the Career/Family coin.
Once again, I have to say a huge thank you to bkerbunny for encouraging my current obsession! And thanks to you, I may never get the image of Taker in a Hooters uniform out of my head. Thank you so much! ;p
As always, your reviews are not only encouraged, but they are coveted and appreciated. Enjoy!
"Wrap her up, Tucker! Get on her!"
The thin layer of sweat covering Cameron Tucker's opponent made her wrestling trainer's instruction impossible. As she struggled to wrap her arms and legs around the thicker woman, Cameron found her focus drifting. There was too much going on in her life to think about a fucking sleeper hold.
"Goddammit, Tucker!" Stomping on the mat, her trainer shouted again. "You're gonna fuckin' break her neck!"
She felt the opponent, a younger woman named Ashley, slip from her grasp and roll to her left, planting her forearm on the mat as she stood and grabbed Cameron's ankles, twisting them in a figure-four leg lock. Without so much as a thought, Cameron kicked her legs, grunting as she fought out of the hold.
"Are you fucking retarded, Tucker?" came the next chastisement. "What the hell is wrong with you?" Blowing the whistle around his neck, Del Rice grabbed Cameron by one of her thin arms and yanked her to her feet. "Answer me when I'm talkin' to you!"
Rolling her eyes, Cameron pulled her arm away and slid under the bottom rope of the regulation wrestling ring. Slamming the door with her shoulder, she heard it clank loudly behind her as she kicked the gravel in the old parking lot of the training facility.
The day her husband, Ryan, had agreed to allow her a portion of their tax refund for wrestling school, she felt as though she'd won the lottery. Since she was a small girl, growing up in Tyler, Texas, she had dreamed about standing in the middle of the squared circle, performing for a crowd of excited fans, and feeding off of their energy. Now she had her chance. In only twenty-six hours, she would be lacing up the boots that she had worked a double shift to afford, performing her first singles match. If she could pull her shit together.
For all of the grace he had shown in sacrificing his new television for his wife's dream, Ryan's support seemed to run short when he realized that Cameron was going to spend more than a week pursuing her childish desire to be a professional wrestler.
The heated arguments over unmet ends, worsening credit scores, and his perceived lack of her contributions to their financial troubles had come to a head earlier in the morning. While Ryan showered in preparation for another grueling day on his father's ranch, the unpaid water bill finally caught up to the couple, and he had been left high and dry with a head full of foaming shampoo.
Of course, it had been Cameron's fault. She had given up an extra shift at the bowling alley to attend another one of her ridiculous classes, and because of her selfishness, the couple didn't have the money to cover the water bill. Instead of telling Ryan that they didn't have the money, she had just ignored it, or so he seemed to think. She didn't bother arguing.
He wouldn't care that she had put in a combined seventy hours at her three jobs in the last few weeks. He wouldn't care that she had been the one to notice how hard his two-day flu vacation had hit their bank account. And he certainly wouldn't care that hitting the gym after sixteen hour days was the only way she could cope with the stressful roller coaster that their lives had become.
"Don't you dare EVER walk away from me!" Del's angry voice sounded as the door slammed behind him. "Is that clear?" he asked, grabbing Cameron's arm and spinning her to face him.
Pulling away once again, Cameron narrowed her eyes, fighting the urge to smack his face. Had he not been six and a half feet tall, made of nothing but muscles and taut flesh, she might have, though. "Get the fuck away from me," she snapped back.
It wasn't like Cameron to snap. Her normally peaceful demeanor had been a bright spot in Del's classes, and the ease with which she picked up most of the moves impressed him to no end. Her sarcastic sense of humor during after-hours work outs had helped him see her as more than just another semi-athletic pretty face. She was one of the few trainees who had managed to become his friend.
Stepping toward her, Del ran a calloused hand down Cameron's arm. "What the hell is goin' on with you, Cami? This isn't like you."
Dragging her hands over her hair, Cameron caught a whiff of her own body odor and scrunched her nose. "I'm tired, Del," she sighed, shaking her head and kicking at another piece of gravel. "I stink," she added with a soft pout. "My husband is an asshole and I've gotta get in the ring tomorrow night in front of an actual crowd." Her dark eyes searched his, a sense of vulnerability filling her expression. "Do you think I'm ready?"
Shaking his head, Del rested his hands on his chiseled waist. "I wouldn't have booked you if I didn't think you were ready." Turning back for the building, he sighed heavily. "Take five to clear your head. Come back inside when you're done wasting my time."
Exhaling loudly, Cameron tucked her hair behind her ears and watched his massive form retreating. "Del," she called out, smiling softly when he turned. "I'm sorry."
"I know," he conceded. "And as your friend, I understand," he smiled. With his eyebrow raised, he leveled her in his gaze. "But as your trainer, I'm not gonna coddle you. There are too many girls in there," he pointed over his shoulder, "who want this more than anything."
When he was gone, she nodded, asking herself the same question that had plagued her for months. How bad did she really want this life?
---
Two hours later, bruised and aching, Cameron hitched her bag over her shoulder and cast a glance at her watch. If she hurried, she could still grab some take out from the diner and make it home before Ryan went to bed for the night. Maybe they could talk about what had happened earlier in the morning.
"Hey, Cami, come here," Del shouted from the doorway of his small office. "Got someone I want you to meet."
Shaking her head, Cameron checked her watch again and then shot him a hurried look. "How 'bout later?" she asked, taking another step toward the exit. "I need to get home before Ryan heads to bed."
But Del insisted. "Just come here for a second," he ordered. With a groan, Cameron walked toward the office, stopping short of entering. "Cameron Tucker, meet the Undertaker."
As he stood from his place on the edge of Del's desk, Mark Calaway extended a hand to the tall, toned brunette blushing before him. He smiled when she placed her trembling hand into his. "Nice to meet you," he said, his voice a soft contrast to the hardened lines in his age-weathered face.
Cameron could feel her cheeks flaming as she continued to hold his large hand. She wasn't sure if she was more in awe of his intimidating stature, or his overwhelming status. She had been a fan of his since his debut, more than fifteen years earlier. To merely stand before a man whom she had respected for so long was breathtaking.
When her inability to speak grew into an awkward silence, Del moved around his desk to begin shutting down his computer for the evening. He said nothing, as though he knew it was a moment Cameron needed to experience for herself. There wasn't anything he could say to make the moment more special for her.
Finally releasing her hand, Mark crossed his large arms over his chest, but never removed his gaze from her sunkissed face. "Del tells me you've got a lot of talent, Cameron," he said, breaking the heavy silence.
"Yeah, well, Del's got a drinking problem," she shot without thinking, drawing a laugh from both men.
Resting his weight against the edge of the desk, Mark crossed on ankle over the other and considered Cameron once again. "So how long have you been training?" he asked.
Cameron tucked her hair behind her ears and shoved her hands into the back pockets of her warm up pants. "I started working out about six months ago," she answered shyly. "But I've been working in the ring for about four."
Mark nodded his head slowly, processing her words and trying like hell not to focus his gaze too heavily on her full lips. "And your first show's tomorrow, right?"
"My first match," she corrected. "I've been a valet a couple of times," she added, as though that would somehow give her more credibility in his eyes.
Del rattled his keys and patted his friend on the shoulder. "You ready to get outta here, man?" When Mark nodded and pushed off of the desk, Del ushered them both out of the office and through the gym. "See you tomorrow night, Cami," he nodded, jogging off toward his car.
When they were alone, Mark smiled at the young woman who hadn't stopped staring at him since they met. "I'm anxious to see you in action tomorrow," he winked, watching her face grow pale at the thought. "You're gonna be fine, Cameron."
She nodded and licked her lips, finally feeling a little bit less like a dorky fan. "Thanks," she answered, noting that Del's car was rolling up to the curb. "I better get home. It was so cool to meet you," she added, thrusting her hand out for him to take one last time.
As she walked slowly to the car, Cameron had a hard time remembering what would be waiting for her at home. She had a hard time thinking about anything other than the warm, green eyes that had been staring at her for the last ten minutes.