Chapter 2

Sam was mad at him again. This was nothing new. Randy couldn't catch a break; not at work, not at home, not with his wife and not with his kid. "I honestly don't understand what is so hard about getting home on time when you said you would. You promised, Randy! Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is for me, not to mention your daughter, when we've told the school that you will there and then you never show up?" At this point in the argument, Randy tuned out. This was the same fight that they had had over and over again. "Tonight was really embarrassing, Randy. I promised that you, Randy Orton, WWE superstar, would be showing up at this fundraiser! Do you have any idea how much of a fool I looked like?"

His wife of six years liked the money that he brought home from the WWE, but hated that he had to actually work for it by traveling almost every night. He did his husbandly duty and called her every night, but the phone calls home usually started fine and then turned into half an hour of Sam bitching at him for whatever reason she could find or think up.

They had been together for eight years and things weren't getting any better. If it wasn't for the kid, sometimes Randy thinks about just walking away from it all and resuming his tomcat ways. A smile crosses his face while he tunes out Sam and thinks about how he used to be the biggest player in the game. Even when he and Sam first got married, he was still playing around, romancing random women when he was on the road. From San Diego to Minneapolis to New York, Randy Orton was a ladies man. That all changed when his daughter was born. He was a father now; he had to settle down. But that didn't mean that he needed to listen to his wife's bitching. "Babe, I am really sorry and I promise that I'll make it up to your somehow," he said soothingly to his wife.

"Randy, you say that every time and you do well for a couple of weeks and then you're right back to breaking promises!" she screeched into the phone.

"Babe. I have to work these crazy hours if you want me to bring the money that you're used to spending home. I know you like having that nice shiny car, and all of those pretty clothes and being able to get your nails and hair done every week. You just need to be a trooper and hang in there."

Sam was silent for a moment; she did enjoy spending Randy's money. And he was a good husband and father….when he was home, that is. She needed to figure out a way to keep him home more often but still bring in the money she was accustomed to spending. A light bulb went off in her head. "Randy, I want another baby."

It was Randy's turn to be silent. "Say what?" He had assumed that they would only have one child. He wasn't home enough to see his daughter. His wife was always complaining that he was never home and that she was the one who had to take care of the one child that they already had. What on earth would possess her to want another one? Where the hell was she pulling this nonsense out of? She had had a horrible pregnancy and difficult labor with their daughter. She had kept saying that she had never wanted to go through any of that again. Randy had just assumed that meant that she didn't want any more kids. He knew that she was just trying to get under his skin right now—she was looking for a fight. And as much as liked to argue, and liked to make up with his wife even more, he wasn't in the mood right now. "Let's talk about this when I get home, babe. I've got one more show in Minneapolis tomorrow night and then I'll be on my way home."

She let out a sigh; she was hoping to start a fight with him and guilt trip him into coming home early. Apparently he saw right through her plan and wasn't going to budge. She hated it when she couldn't get her way with him. "Fine. I love you. I'll see you tomorrow night?"

"Tuesday afternoon."

"Randy….."

"Good night, Samantha…."

.

.

"You mean it, mom? We got front row tickets?" six year old Josh asked Ashlynn. She smiled as she watched her son let out a whoop of excitement when she nodded her head yes and he started dancing around the living room. "And we're going tonight?"

"Yes, Josh. But not until you finish your math homework," she said sternly.

"Aw, come on, Ash, let the kid slide just one night," Nick interjected before she could get her son to the kitchen table to work on his math problems.

"Yeah, mom, let me slide," Josh pleaded. For a second there, her son looked exactly like his father. A faint memory flashed through her mind of the passionate one night stand she had with Randy. She shook that memory from her mind just as quickly as it had come.

"Nope," Ashlynn said, not budging. "Homework, dinner, and then we will go."

"Promise?"

She smiled. "I promise, bud."

.

.

Randy rolled his neck back and forth, trying to shake out the kinks. Opening his eyes, he glanced at the clock on the wall; he still had another five minutes before his music would start and he would start his slow, viper-like entrance down to the ring. He passed the time by pacing back and forth and winking at the various divas milling around the backstage area. Finally, the time had come…..

"I hear voices in my head, they counsel me, they understand….they talk to me…."

He started his slow, menacingly walk down to the ring. He listened to the crowd as they almost drowned out his entrance theme. At the current moment, he was the company's top heel. And tonight, judging by the crowd's reaction as he made his way to the ring, he was earning his spot. Ignoring the screams from the fangirls and jeers from the rest of the fans, he finally made it to the ring. Tonight he was facing John Cena. Again. He and John had a never ending rivalry. Outside the ring, John was one of his closest friends. Tonight, however, he had to kick his best friend in the head for money and fame. He had an awesome job, he thought as he climbed into the ring and went to the top rope to do his signature pose. He looked around at the crowd and disdain. A small child caught his attention in the front row. Randy's eyes narrowed, trying to get a better look at the kid. The kid was copying his move….and looked a lot like he did when he was six or seven years old.

He climbed down from the top rope and glanced at who the kid was sitting with—a tall dorky looking guy and a hottie with dark hair on the other side of him. Something about the kid and something about the chick made the wheels start to turn in his mind and think that maybe he knew the two. But he couldn't quite figure out who they were and he didn't have time to think about it right now, because John's music had started and it was time to earn his paycheck.