1, 2, 3—Go!
Erin leaned back in her seat, cracking her neck experimentally. Closing her eyes, she let the thudding bass line wipe out her nervousness. Drowning Pool, she decided, was the perfect antidote to seeing Randy Orton again. She'd almost thrown up in her mouth a little bit when she saw him, but the sheer volume of adrenaline running through her system had kept her going full-steam ahead—that, and the sudden rush of sheer, unadulterated anger that had hit her like a ton of bricks.
She'd been slightly surprised that she hadn't felt any fear, seeing him. The first time he'd attacked her, when he broke her arm, she'd been numb until the next day—then the fear had set in. The second time he'd attacked her, when he sent her to the hospital, the numbness had only lasted a few seconds. Then everything other than pain and sheer terror were driven from her mind. But this time, for all their history, she just felt ready.
I'm never gonna stop
I'm never gonna drop
Ain't no different than it was before.
Sure, she'd been knocked down before. Hell, Randy wasn't the first one who'd ever taken her down, and she knew he wouldn't be the last. She remembered her first fight, actually—she'd taken a beating from a linebacker on the football team after punching his sister (which, in her defense, she'd only done because she'd slept with Beth's boyfriend). That had been ages ago, back when she'd been a reckless, rebellious teenager who hated the world and didn't care what anybody thought.
By the time she'd arrived at Camp Pendleton, she was still reckless and didn't care what anybody thought, but she at least cared about something—her country, as cheesy as it sounded (even to admit herself). Randy, on the other hand, had been a gorgeous, cocky 20-something. Camp Pendleton and Afghanistan had aged her, made her more sure of herself, while something in Randy had cracked. She was a different person now, as was he, but somehow, things didn't feel all that different to her.
Sure, they were in the WWE, not the Marines. And sure, they had changed as people: she was harder, faster, stronger, more confident; he was harsher, colder, angrier. But when it came down to it—when she looked at what really mattered—he was still the heartless bastard who'd turned on her, and she was still the once-bitten, twice-shy girl who wouldn't let her walls down. And this time—this time, he was going to be the one to pay.
You had your chance to walk away.
And now you've crossed that line
You must be out your mind.
After six years in the Marines, she knew better than to go into a fight with so much anger on her mind. So while there was a part of her—a very small part—that wanted nothing more than to give in to the (admittedly tempting) desire to throttle Randy and throw the rules out the window, she forced herself to sit down and take a deep breath, clearing fantasies of revenge out of her head. Instead, she let her rage go, putting up her walls once more and blocking out all emotion.
Randy Orton had had his day. Today, she was getting justice.
So take some good advice
You better stop and think twice
Before you take your first step out that door.
If you wanna step up, step up
You're gonna get knocked down
A/N: So, I promised you a one-shot! This certainly isn't the best one I've ever written, and I know it's pretty short, but I really do love that song (it's great for working out to). Hope this'll tide you over until Saturday, when I put the next chapter of How to Be a Superstar up. Read and review!