Turn Buckles and Tears:
The Story of Emmett "The Blade" Cullen
By: HanFauxLo
Emmett & Bella
Chapter Three:
Straight Shots and Lace
Bella. She was my one and only daughter, and I had always loved her more than anything else in my life. Where did I ever go wrong? Was it the fact that I wanted to support her and mother? That I loved my life on the road, and I had no one to answer to? Or was it the fact that I couldn't stand being around the bitch?
Jay-Z said it best, I had ninety-nine problems and the bitch wasn't one.
The more I thought about it, the more pissed off I got. As I stopped at the light, I slammed my fist hard on the steering wheel, and it sounded like I was using the van as expression of how much I hated my fucking life and how pathetic I was.
When I came out of my state of rage and depression, I noticed the familiar red and blue neon lights that signaled the approach of the place I used to call my second home, The Déjà Vu.
"Hell, it couldn't hurt to stop in and have a drink or three," I spoke out loud to myself.
I pulled into the nearly empty parking lot and got out of the van, looking in the mirror to make sure that I was at least somewhat presentable. I still had a bandage on my hand where I had cut myself on the table earlier tonight.
I walked up to the door and could hear the music that I used to listen back in the late eighties. "Policy of Truth" by Depeche Mode, I smiled. It took me back to when I had the "Jersey boy hair" and Z-Calvariche pants.
"Thank God that phase didn't last," I laughed to myself.
As I made my way to the door, the bouncer noticed me right off the bat. "Holy shit, Emmett 'The Blade' Cullen, how are ya' man."
I reached in my pockets to pull out the money for the cover.
"Put that away," the bouncer said to me. "You're a celebrity around here so come on in and enjoy yourself."
I shook his hand, gave him an autograph and took a picture with him on his cell phone. Walking into the place, I just smiled like a fat kid who had just walked into a candy store with a credit card that had no spending limit. I have to admit, strippers were my second addiction. The first was splitting my opponents open with anything I could get my hands on.
But tonight, the only things that I wanted were to bust open cold beers and have warm legs to close around me at the end of the night. As I made my way to the bar, all I could think about was getting so shit-faced drunk that I didn't care who took me home or how I got home.
I scanned the around the club, and the striper that was on the main stage was giving me this look like she wanted me to come up there and have my way with her. Of course every stripper that I've ever seen has given me that look, but this was different.
I finally made my way to the bar, and I shouted that I wanted two shots of Jager and a Bud. I pulled out a twenty and the bartender waved it off. If I knew that I was getting special treatment tonight, I would've gone home and changed so I could feel more important.
As I shot back the first Jager, it felt like it was going to be a night where memories were going to be blurred to the background and boundaries were going to be broken. I stood there about to take my second shot, until I noticed it wasn't on the bar.
"So, when where you going to offer me a drink, stranger," a familiar voice said, standing behind the bar with my shot in her hand.
"Where did you come from?" I said in startled voice.
"I was the one on stage remember?" She said with a sly but slightly innocent smile. "I was giving you that come and fuck me stare."
I noticed that she was wearing this Catholic school girl number, and she looked fucking amazing. It was either the cold air that made her nipples so hard that she could cut diamonds with them, or she was really excited to see me. So I decided to try to find out.
"I thought you would be done with the 'exotic dancer routine,' Rosalie," I said, laughing but at the same time trying to play it cool. "I thought you'd be finished with school by now you know, 'I'm only doing this so I can go to school and better myself' routine."
She came out from behind the bar and gave me a welcome hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Good to see you again Emmett," she said warmly. "What do you say I take you to the back and give you a present, seeing as your birthday was last week," she said as she grabbed me by the hand.
I nearly dropped my beer as she yanked me off the stool. "What about my beer? I wanted to finish it before I went back there," I said, stumbling to my feet.
"Don't worry, I got you covered," she said, staring back at me with the same look she had given me when I walked in just a few minutes ago. As we were walking to the V.I.P. section, I was mesmerized from the view from behind. Of all the things that I loved about Rosalie, the one I loved the most was her ass.
She had an ass that should be next in line to be a monument, and I would love to be next in line to bow down before it and worship it. It was so curvaceous that it reminded me of the back roads that I used to take when I would ride my bike as a kid.
She must've known that I was staring at it, since she was walking even slower as we entered the couch-filled area of the somewhat dark, yet relaxing part of the club. She sat me down, walking over to the bar and ordering a bucket of ice cold Budweisers. She sat them on the table in front of me and smiled, "Told you that I had you covered."
"There's no way that I can drink these all by myself," I said as I opened one, handing it to her slowly.
She opened up her throat and chugged the beer down like a pro, giving me this look that made me harder than a petrified forest, "That's not the only thing that I like to go down my throat."
As the music started, she leaned into me and said, "Normally, the shit would hit the fan if my boss caught me doing this with a customer, but lucky for you, we're in a place where the cameras can't see us." She looked at the bartender and nodded her head. He turned around and walked out the side door, closing it behind him.
Through the speakers, a familiar song started playing. It was Metallica's "Nothing Else Matters." "Do you remember this song?" she asked me as she started to slowly sway her hips in a winding, hypnotic motion.
"I sure do," I replied. She was grinding up against me, making me wanting her more and more. "This was song that was playing when I first asked you out. You and I were sitting in front of the DQ, and we were just about finished. I held your hand, looked into those baby blues and said that I loved you, and nothing else mattered no matter where I was. All I thought about was you, and that I wanted to be with you."
Without hesitation, she looked into my eyes, whispering in my ear the four words that sent chills up and down my spine and had my solider busting out my zipper.
"Do you want me?" I knew she couldn't take it anymore just like me.
I grabbed a hand full of hair and pulled her head back ever so gently and kissing her neck. I inhaled her sweet, intoxicating perfume and knew that if I didn't get her back to her place, we would just do it right here on the table. I had been lying on a table covered in glass earlier tonight, and the thought of fucking her on that wasn't all that comfortable.
"Yes Rosalie, I do." I said in such low voice, that if she moved two inches to left, she would be considered a flood area.
"Are we going to your place or mine?" she asked as we snuck out the side door that the bartender had used just a few minutes ago.
We walked over to the van, and she just looked at me, throwing her head back and laughing. "I see that you're still driving that piece of shit Dodge van. I thought that you would have gotten rid of it, or I thought that you would've just set it on fire and got another one by now."
"Hey, don't knock the Franken Ram," I said as I was trying to find the keys. "She's a classic."
Then I remembered that the passenger door always stuck in the cold weather.
"Fuck."I grumbled. "Give me a minute, and I'll let you in." I said while I was still trying to find my keys.
She looked at me and laughed even harder. "I told you that you should've set this thing on fire, at least we would be warm," Rosalie answered; she was on her phone.
I put the key in the lock, turned it and kicked the door at the same time. It was a trick that I stumbled across one day, and ever since then, it has worked like a charm.
"We might as well go to yours, seeing as I haven't been home in awhile." I said, bowing like a prince before her as the door opened like an elevator. "Besides, I want to see what you've done to the place after all the work we did to it."
As we were about to leave, I saw her manager walking over to us, and I could tell he wasn't happy. He asked her what she was doing.
"It's the end of my shift Jasper, and Emmett is going to give me a lift home," she said as I helped her in the van. She was scared of him. I could tell by the sound of her voice.
"Well guess what," he said, pushing me over to one side and grabbing her by the arm as he started to walk back towards the door. "Your shift ends when I tell you it does."
He glanced back in my direction, laughing. "Who's the boyfriend?"
"Apparently you don't watch wrestling all that much. Do you asshole?" she fired back as she tried to break free from his tight grip. "He's Emmett 'The Blade' Cullen."
"And if I were you, I'd let go of her arm and walk back into that club all by yourself, or you could get your ass handed to you really quick. It's up to you," I said, walking towards him and Rosalie.
He had let go of her arm and walked back in my direction. He met me in the front of the van and started sizing me up, and I knew what was about to happen. "I heard that you were nothing but washed up has been," he said laughing. "What are you gonna do? Beat me with your bad breath?"
In that moment, he decided to do something really stupid. It was an idea that he was going to regret for the rest of his life. He swung at me. His fist missed me by a mile. I grabbed him by the arm, twisting it behind his back.
I smiled at him and grabbed him by the neck, saying," That was a bad idea asshole."
I took him by the head, slamming it hard on the hood of my van. He dropped to the ground like a sack of rocks. He rolled over, holding his nose. It was broken, and it bled like a stuck pig.
"You broke my fucking nose you son of a bitch," he screamed as he lay on the ground, writhing in pain.
The security guard that was standing over by the door heard all the commotion. He had seen me slamming Jasper's head into the van and seen him fall to the ground.
He called for two more security guards, and they ran over to where everything had gone down. They skidded to a halt, looking down at Jasper holding his nose, and they stared up at me as I was walking back to the van with Rosalie.
I closed her door and took in the guards as they were taking Jasper back inside.
"You might want to get him to a hospital," I called out as I strolled back to the driver side. "He looks like he could use some medical attention."
I closed my door and started the van. As I was about to leave, Rosalie pointed out Jasper's brand new black BMW that he just bought, saying that was his pride and joy.
I got out of the van and walked to the back, opening the door. I grabbed the chair that I used on Solar in our match. I walked over to the BMW slowly, swinging the chair wide as I reached the expanse of shiny black fiberglass and smashed the side mirrors and the taillights. The crunch of the glass as it made contact with the metal chair was strangely satisfying. I then made my way up to the front of the BMW, hurling the chair through the front window. I grinned as I watched it sink through the glass as though it didn't even exist.
I strode back to the van and closed the door. We sped off, and I looked over at Rosalie smiling really big.
"I guess his pride wasn't the only thing broken tonight."
