Chapter 4

"I'm not sure this was a good idea…" Glen muttered low enough to where only his wife could hear, who was dragging him through the local club she spotted when they got into town for the show earlier on that day.

Carsyn rolled her eyes as she held onto her husband's hand, needing a night out instead of in the cooped up hotel room. "Glen, I just want to live alright? I just want to have fun. Please, do this for me?" She asked, slowly stopping and turning around to face him, staring deep into his hazel eyes.

He groaned, knowing he couldn't resist those beautiful sea green orbs of hers and sighed resignedly as he took her hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it. Carsyn grinned as they walked to the bar, ordering herself a cosmopolitan while Glen opted for a beer before sitting down at a nearby booth. They hadn't gone out in ages, Carsyn couldn't even remember the last time, and honestly thought they could use a night on the town with everything that happened lately.

"This place isn't so bad." Carsyn said as she sipped her drink, leaning against her husband, and smiled when a song of her liking came on. "Dance with me?"

"That's where I draw the line." Glen stated, shaking his head, and crossed his arms in defiance. "I don't dance. Go on, have fun."

Carsyn sighed as she kissed his cheek and slid out of the booth, wearing a silver dress that went to her mid-thigh and was spaghetti strapped along with matching heels. Deciding to just let her hair down, Carsyn began moving to the beat, swaying her hips and moving her body, knowing her husband was watching her every move. Now if only she could get him to dance with her.

Across the way in a dark corner, Mark sat with a bottle of bourbon, downing one shot after another, drowning his sorrows. A fiery redhead was currently eyeing him, but he wasn't in the mood, just wanting to be left alone for the night. That wasn't to happen because a few seconds later, none other than Steve Austin came walking up with a beer in hand, causing Mark to arch a black eyebrow. They hadn't spoken since Tessa's funeral and honestly, Mark hated the man and knew Steve reciprocated the feelings.

"This seat taken?" Steve asked, not waiting for an answer, and sat down as he stretched his long legs out under the table. He was wearing a pure black muscle shirt along with tight form fitting blue jean shorts, sipping his beer. "How've ya been, 'Taker?"

"Dark." Mark grunted in response as he downed another shot, hoping a buzz would happen so he didn't have to remember this conversation. "What're you doing here?"

Steve shrugged. "Just thought a night on the town would do me good." He said nonchalantly, leaning back further in his chair. "Ya know you haven't been the same since Tessa passed."

"I refuse to talk about this." Mark stated heatedly, his green eyes flashing before pulling his black shades off and tucking them in his vest. "Tessa is none of your business."

"Wrong Mark, she was my best friend and ya hurt her with yer accusations, man." Steve stated, refusing to drop the subject, seeing the man was about ready to explode and he didn't care. Mark had put himself in a shell when Tessa died and it was about time he came out of it. "Ya gotta talk bout it, man. Ya can't keep it bottled like ya have been or else it'll eat ya inside and out."

"You think I don't know that?" Mark growled from low in the back of his throat and slammed his glass down, burying his head in his hands. "I know I hurt her and I'll never forgive myself. You're not helping me by sittin' here and reminding me of the mistake I made."

"What the fuck did ya say to her to make her leave the house that night?" Steve asked bluntly, the question burning in his mind ever since Tessa died.

Mark cleared his throat, raking a hand through his hair, and sighed as he closed his eyes painfully shut. "I accused her…of sleepin' with ya." He finally admitted, refusing to look up at Steve, and sighed wearily before downing another shot. "I really thought ya two were sleepin' together with how much time ya spent. I seen ya hug and her kiss ya on the cheek…" He sighed again. "I don't know what happened, I just kinda snapped…"

"Kinda?" Steve echoed and snorted, finishing off his beer before ordering another round, shaking his head. "Do ya have any idea what we talked bout while me and her were together?" When Mark shook his head, Steve actually bit back a roll of his eyes and just stared down into his beer broodingly. "She talked bout how much she wanted to cheat on ya, but knew it wasn't right. She didn't love ya man. She thought ya weren't bad enough fer her."

"Do you want me to kick your ass, Steve?" Mark growled, his eyes flashing dangerously, and shook his head when the man just snorted. The bourbon was kicking in and Mark wasn't feeling too bad, leaning back against the booth and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Yer serious aren't ya?"

"Man, I'm tellin' ya. Tessa was a wild cat and she had to be unleashed. I never slept with her though. I wanted too, but she wouldn't be unfaithful to her husband." Steve snorted again, downing more of his beer and set it down. "What did ya do to keep her under you?"

Mark actually choked on his beer, blinking. "Excuse me? I don't think that's any of yer business, Austin." He couldn't believe this! This man was actually talking about Tessa like she was some sort of whore and the woman was dead!

"Not like it's a big secret, Mark. Do you know how many guys Tessa slept with before you?" Steve asked, causing Mark's eyebrow to rise as he downed another shot, feeling a really great buzz going on.

"How many?" He gruffly asked, wondering why he was allowing Steve to talk about his deceased wife like this. At the same time, it was oddly comforting talking about Tessa like this, like she was still alive, and that caused Mark to down another shot. He'd lost count, but knew he'd killed nearly half the bottle of bourbon alone.

"Sixteen." Steve answered without hesitation, causing Mark's bloodshot eyes to widen, rubbing a hand over his bald head.

"Yer lyin'."

"Am I?" Steve countered, leaning back in his chair and propped his feet up on the table to get more comfortable. "She told me she used to date three guys at one time, man. She was very experienced before marryin' yer ass."

"And she told you this?" Mark questioned, sounding almost in disbelief, but then again Tessa and Steve had been rather close. He somehow believed she didn't cheat on him, but that still didn't stop the pain and anger from radiating through his body. Why couldn't she have confided in him, her own husband? The more Mark thought about it, the angrier he became and the more tempting that hot fiery redhead seemed.

Steve didn't miss it and smirked inwardly, turning around and staring at the foxy redhead who had Mark's attention currently. "She's not bad." He commented low enough to where only Mark could hear. "I'd fuck her."

"You'd fuck anyone." Mark retorted and chuckled ruefully while Steve called the hot redhead over, giving her a seat right next to him.

"Hey honey, can I buy you a drink?" Steve asked, causing the redhead to smirk coyly back at him before her dark green eyes fell on the man she'd had her eye on all night.

"No thanks sugar, but I'd LOVE it if this man would." She purred, scooting closer to Mark in the booth, her breasts looking like they were about ready to pop out of the top she was currently wearing. "Do you have any idea how hot you are?"

"Rigamortis, I think she's talkin' to ya." Steve added, stoking the fire more as he leaned back and chuckled, taking another swig of his beer.

"Darlin', I-" Mark didn't finish and simply stared straight ahead, his green eyes widening with every second that passed.

He'd been looking around the bar at all the people, trying to distract himself with something other than the conversation him and Steve were currently having. That's when he saw her. Long red hair pooled down her back in waves along with those hypnotic blue eyes that always sent his heart racing. Was it her? Was it Tessa? No, she was dead…Mark shook his head and looked down, mentally clearing his head, and looked back up. When he did, she was gone, no traces or signs of her anywhere.

'Christ now I'm seein' her everywhere.' He thought miserably before shooting down another shot, ignoring the current ring rat biding for his attention.

"You alright there Deadman? You look like you seen a ghost." Steve commented, concern swimming in his blue eyes, and looked over his shoulder at the people who were swarming the place. He'd seen Mark had been distracted, but by what was the unsolved mystery.

"So…any special plans tonight?" The ring rat was persistent and wouldn't give up until she had what she wanted. "I could use some company tonight…"

"I'm sure you could darlin'." Mark drawled the current buzzed state he was in causing his Texan voice to thicken as he downed yet another shot.

Steve looked back and forth between the two, shaking his head, knowing Mark would end up taking the ring rat back to the hotel. It wasn't like he was cheating on Tessa anymore since the woman was dead. Men healed faster than woman when it came to tragedies and things like that. In Steve's mind, Mark was a moron, but he wouldn't stop the man from making mistake after mistake. It wasn't his job to do that.

"Go on Rigamortis; show the lady a good time." Steve smirked when Mark glared at him, clucking his tongue, and took another long swig of his long neck beer bottle. "Show her yer not as dead as everyone thinks."

A voice cleared from behind all of them, causing three heads to turn, and there stood Laura Manning, the personal assistant of Chris Irvine A.K.A. Chris Jericho. Her long, chestnut locks cascaded down to the middle of her back, her chocolate brown eyes peering back at the gentleman while Chris stood beside her. Tears filled Laura's eyes as she slowly walked over, shoving the ring rat aside like the trash she was, and hugged Mark tightly around the neck, sniffling. Tessa and Laura were good friends when Mark brought her on the road with him, which was quite often.

"I am so sorry…" She whispered brokenly, having heard of Tessa's death at Vince McMahon's meeting the day after her accident.

Laura tried making it to the funeral, but at the last minute, she had to rush home to an emergency of her own. Her five year old daughter, Whitney, fell off the monkey bars at pre-school and broke her ankle. She was currently at the hotel resting with her nanny, Nora Price. She was a mid-aged woman in her forties and Whitney adored her along with Laura. The three of them were one big, happy family.

For some reason, this little lady had a soft spot in Mark's heart as he hugged her back, sighing heavily, knowing she missed Tessa. "It's alright darlin'…don't cry." He soothed, stroking her hair, and snorted when Chris cleared his throat loudly.

"Christopher, I am merely sending my condolences." Laura quietly said after breaking the hug with Mark, turning to face the man she was the personal assistant for.

"I know, but it's getting late. Whitney doesn't sleep without you there." Chris reminded softly, hating to break up the moment, but in all honesty he had to get out of there before he throttled Mark.

Laura sighed and nodded, knowing he was right and turned around to face Mark, running her finger down his cheek. "Do not take anymore into your bed, Marcus. You are hurting, but this is not the way to heal your pain." She kissed his cheek before sliding from the booth and walked away with Chris, her head lowered.

Mark sighed heavily as the ring rat took her place right beside him again and snorted, downing his last shot. "You want a taste of the Dark Side?" He drawled again, causing her to nod eagerly, the hunger unmistakable in her eyes. A smirk curved his lips as he stood up, the empty bottle of bourbon setting on the table, and nodded silently at Steve before guiding the fiery redhead out of the club.

Steve stared back at them and shook his head, downing the remainder of his beer, and decided to call it a night as well. He whipped his cell phone out once he was outside and smiled when she answered.

"Hey Teagyn."