She sat by the desk in her room, feeling the sun on her skin, putting the finishing touches on the drawing she had made. This was her third time in their house. She couldn't believe an entire month had passed since they first claimed her as their property. The drawing in front of her had been her escape those three times, working on it bit for bit. Now she was just adding the text and it was done. At least when she was in their house she could retreat to her own room and she would do it as much as possible, sleeping there every night, in comparison to her being asked to choose a room, a bed, a man in each hotel room they spent their nights in.
Nothing had really changed during that month. They were still the same confusing men that would pull her in opposite directions, toying with her as they saw fit, making her feel bad but also making her feel good. It was like living with three versions on Dr. Jekyll og Mr. Hyde. Sometimes she couldn't even understand herself that she hadn't gone mentally insane by now.
"Babe, the car is loaded. Are you ready to go?" Seth's soft voice reached her from the open door.
"Yeah, I'm ready. I just need to use the bathroom first," she said.
She got up from the chair and walked out of the room, passing him without even looking at him, disappearing into the bathroom. He walked over to the desk and took a look at the drawing. In the middle of it she had drawn herself inside a cage, reaching her hand through the bars. On the left Punk was drawn wearing a police outfit and a baton in his hand. On the right three angry dogs were drawn with their teeth and fangs showing. Due to the way she had drawn the fur, both in lengths and colours, it was clear which dog was supposed to be which man. On top of it all words had been written as if everyone was talking.
Over Punk it said: "We both know who calls the shots."
Over Roman it said: "You're with us now."
Over Seth it said: "There's no way out."
Over Dean it said: "Break her!"
Over herself it said: "Hold back your tears. If they fall, they fall alone."
He grabbed the drawing and hurried down the stairs to show it to Roman and Dean before she would finish in the bathroom.
"Look what she's drawn," he said.
"So she doesn't want to cry or she doesn't want anybody to cry for her?" Dean asked.
"Not just that. Read it all," Seth said.
"Shit," Roman mumbled.
Seth quickly hit the drawing behind his back as they heard her coming down the stairs. She was clearly in a bad mood this day since she still refused to look at any of them. She just moved through the hall, put on a pair of boots and went to the car without saying anything. Seth sprinted up the stairs to put the drawing back on the desk so she wouldn't wonder where it was next time they came home.
"Ah, the sweet smell of Texas," Dean said in a fake accent as they drove into town.
"You're probably wondering why we drove so early," Roman looked at her.
"Not really," she said.
"Someone's in a mood today," Seth chuckled.
"I just don't care," she sighed.
"But we got a surprise for you," Dean pouted as he turned in the front seat to look at her.
"Like I said, I don't care. Do what you gotta do. You always do that anyway," she said.
"Don't make us mad," Roman warned her.
"Why not? It seems to be the only thing I'm good at these days," she said.
"Tadaaa!" Seth said loudly as he stopped the car.
She looked out of the window and saw they were in the parking lot in front of the Home of the Professional Wrestling Hall of Fame & Museum. It was a cool surprise but it still didn't turn her mood around.
"We called ahead and since it's us, we get to see some stuff that still hasn't been put inside the museum," Seth said.
"Pretty cool, huh?" Dean grinned.
"If you think so," she shrugged her shoulders.
"Come on, baby girl, what eating you this morning?" Roman reached over and stroked her shoulder.
"Not me," Dean was still grinning at her. "But I'll be eating you later if you want me to."
"No thanks, I'm good," she said.
She opened the car door and stepped out before he threw another perverted comment at her. She moved towards the museum, hearing how the other car doors opened and closed, and shortly after they caught up with her.
"Hey, wait up, sugar," Dean chuckled. "You know you can't away from us anyway."
"One can always try," she mumbled.
"Alright, cut it out," Seth said and gave her a look.
They moved to the door and she shuffled behind them, hearing how her heels scraped over the asphalt. Soon after she found herself inside the building and a way too happy looking woman walked over to greet them.
"Welcome, welcome. We've been looking forward to having you four here. Do you wanna look around inside the museum first or do you wanna see the stuff in the back right away?" She asked.
"Lead us to the good stuff in the back," Dean chuckled.
"As you wish. Follow me," she said.
They walked through the museum and finally a door was opened and they were let inside.
"Alright, take all the time you want. I'll be out front if you need me," the woman said.
She disappeared again, closing the door behind her, and everything went silent for a second before Seth whistled.
"Wow, they really got some amazing stuff in here," he said.
They started looking through everything. Seth and Roman stopped to look at some boots. She had no idea who's boots captivated them that much. She found herself moving towards one of Undertaker's old coffins.
"Neat," Dean said and ran his fingers on it.
"Yeah," she said lowly.
"Hey, we should celebrate tonight, by the way," he said.
"Celebrate what?" She asked.
"We realized this morning that two days ago it was our one month anniversary. We completely forgot but better late than never, right?" He smiled widely at her.
"You're right, that does call for a celebration because that means there's only eleven months left of my contract. One month closer to getting the hell away," she smiled back.
For a couple of seconds they just stared each other down, both of them refusing to remove their smiles, and then Dean started drumming his fingers on the coffin.
"You really think you're gonna leave us?" He asked.
"Think? I know," she giggled a little. "What are you gonna do once I'm gone? Find someone else?"
"You're not leaving," he said lowly.
"Guess again," she said.
"You're not leaving," he gritted his teeth.
She took a step closer and stared straight up in his face.
"I'm leaving, little boy, and there's not a damn thing you can do about it," she said.
"Little boy?" He snickered in an unsettling way.
He grabbed her and pulled her up against his chest.
"You're not fucking leaving! You're not going anywhere! You're never going anywhere!" He shouted.
She struggled to get away but he was way too strong. He held her with one arm while his other hand opened the coffin. Before she knew what was happening, he lifted her up and threw her down in the coffin. She panicked as she realized where she was. He held her down with one hand on her chest while his other hand went back to the lid, threatening to close it and trap her inside. Her mind shut down. She could feel him holding her down but she couldn't see him. She was back in a place where she never thought she would be again.
"No, Punk, don't leave me in here! Please! Don't leave me in here!" She screamed in horror.
The sound of her calling him Punk made him immetiately let go off her and take a step back. He wasn't planning on actually closing the lid, he only wanted to scare her and make her understand that she couldn't bullshit around with them. Even though he had let go, she still didn't move at all. Tears were streaming down her face and she held her hands in front of her as if she was ready to try and push the lid back up in case it closed. Roman and Seth ran to them and within a second Roman had pulled her out of the coffin. He tried putting her down on her feet but her entire body refused to work and he had no other choice than to sink down to the floor with her in his arms.
"What the hell, Dean?" Seth pushed Dean.
"I didn't mean to," Dean said.
"Hey, baby girl, snap out of it," Roman tried.
"Don't put me back in the closet," she whispered.
"We won't. No one's putting you anywhere," he said comfortingly.
"Let's just get out of here," Seth sighed.
They got the silent treatment the rest of the day. It didn't matter what they said or did, not a word or a look came in any of their directions. They kept their distance but still remained close, keeping their eyes on her as always.
That night Naomi suffered a vicious beating by Emily. No matter how hard Naomi tried fighting back, it just seemed like everything bounced right off of Emily. Even after having Naomi submitting and the referee calling for the bell, she still continued hurting the other woman. It took two referees to finally pull her off. She was furious. It wasn't Naomi's fault. She just happened to be in front of Emily when she could finally get her aggressions out.
When they finally came back to their hotel room later that evening, she dumped down on the couch and turned on the tv. The Walking Dead was on and she leaned back to catch the latest episode.
"Where are you sleeping tonight?" Roman asked.
"I don't know," she mumbled.
"You're not sleeping in here," he said.
"Gosh, I know all your stupid rules by now, Roman," she rolled her eyes. "Will it be alright to just watch this one fucking episode in peace and then I'll join one of you afterwards?"
"Hey!" Seth snapped his fingers. "Quit the attitude."
"It's 45 minutes I ask of, Seth," she sighed.
"Guys, give it to her," Dean said.
He looked guilty as he looked between Seth and Roman. At least she was talking again so it probably was best to grant her those 45 minutes in peace.
"45 minutes," Roman agreed. "Climb into whatever bed you feel like afterwards."
They moved away and she heard them walking around, using the bathroom one at the time, and then almost ten minutes later the sound of the final door closing. All she heard now was the tv and her own breathing. She tried watching the show but she couldn't concentrate. After another ten minutes she got up and started pacing around a bit while the tv was still running. She looked down at herself, she was wearing a knee long skirt and a tee, and figured she could go out like that. In fact she needed to go out. Without even thinking further about it she grabbed her wallet and key card, put both items in a purse and then left. Her phone was still lying on the coffee table in front of the couch and the tv was still running. She just needed to get out, clear her head, get a drink, be alone.
She quickly located a bar where no one looked at her like they knew her. With a White Russian in her hand, she sat down at a table, trying to blend into the darkness. She hadn't been sitting there long before someone slid into the seat across from her. She looked up and was met by a smiling face she knew.
"How are you feeling, butterfly?" He asked.
"Still with the whole butterfly thing?" She sighed. "What are you doing here, Bray?"
He ignored her second question and instead looked at her before answering her first one.
"You are a butterfly, Emily. So beautiful and free. Or you used to be. You're not doing much flying these days," he said.
"Yeah, well, leave it to some asshole to tear off my wings," she said.
"They're not broken, just a little dusty. We can clean them right up and make you fly again," he said.
She shook her head and let out a sad little laugh before taking a sip from her drink.
"Why are you always creeping around, Bray?" She asked.
"I'm not creeping around. I watch and I listen," he pointed to his ear. "And I learn."
"And what have you learned?" She asked.
"Many things. I know more than you might think," he said.
She lifted her hand and looked at him over her glass before taking another sip.
"Alright, I'll play along," she licked her lips and put the glass down. "What do you know?"
"That'll take many hours so how about we do the short version?" He chuckled.
"The floor is yours," she held out her hands.
He chuckled again and took a swig of his beer before continuing.
"I don't know if you know how many men looked at you when you first joined the company. You know, fresh meat and all that comes with it but you weren't just another piece of meat. There was something about you that drew several men in," he said.
"Is this about Punk?" She sighed.
"Not just him. Let's start with Fandango," he said.
"Fandango? But we didn't date that long. I thought no one even remembered we ever were an item," she said.
"Some of us remember everything," he pointed to his temple. "Fandango was very sweet when you broke up. Everyone wanted to know how he could have dumped you but he just said it wasn't meant to be."
She knew he wasn't lying. The days after their break up she had expected some sort of backlash from all the men but nothing ever came and she knew he hadn't told them anything.
"He was a good man," she nodded. "Still is."
"Punk didn't accept that. He took Fandango aside and made him tell him. I just happened to be close, hearing the whole thing," he said.
"Creeping around as always," she giggled.
"And I have no doubt Fandango told Punk the truth after what happened with you and Punk after. He used it against you. He earned your trust, pulled you in and he turned it all around against you, didn't he?" He asked.
She clenched her fists as memories showed up in her mind. She didn't like to think about it.
"I don't wanna talk about it," she said lowly.
"Okay, so let's skip ahead to The Shield," he smiled warmly. "Those boys are a lot like me."
"Creepy?" She asked.
"Only you can answer that," he chuckled. "But they like mind games just like me although we play in different ways. And they too watch and listen and learn. They too were watching you from the start," he said.
"From the start? You gotta be shitting me," she shook her head.
"You broke a lot of hearts when you became serious with Punk," he said.
"Including my own," she said.
She lifted her glass and emptied it. It was a lot to take in.
"I know what they're doing to you, Emily," he reached over and squeezed her hand. "But can you honestly say that you don't enjoy it? That you don't want it?"
How she wanted to say one word and close this conversation. Just lie like she had done for so long but something about Bray made her not able to.
"No," she finally said. "For fuck's sake! I've got Stockholm syndrome, don't I?"
"People who got Stockholm syndrome don't actually know they got it," he chuckled. "No, you're just a bit messed up like the rest of us."
She felt the tears start falling down.
"Don't cry, butterfly," he reached up and ran his thumbs over her cheeks. "It's alright to be into rough roleplay and enjoy what many don't understand. Fandango tried but he couldn't find it in him to throw you around and take you against your will even though it was just roleplay. Punk made Fandango tell him and then used it against you. He pulled you right in, doing what you love, and slowly it went from roleplay to reality and he just kept pushing you further down and hurting you."
She reached up and grabbed his hands, putting them down on the table in front of her but still holding on to them.
"But that's just it, Bray. How is this any different with The Shield?" She asked.
"Do they actually hurt you like Punk did?" He asked.
"No, there's no fucked up punishments like being locked in a closet or not allowed to go anywhere and they don't beat me. It's like they agreed to the sexlife I like having without actually asking me first and forgetting about getting a safeword," she said.
"Would you have used a safeword by now if you had one?" He asked.
He smirked and raised his eyebrows, already knowing the answer before she said it.
"No," she let go off his hands and sank down in the chair. "But that still doesn't make it alright, Bray. I swore off that side after Punk. Hell, I swore off men entirely after Punk."
"Either they didn't get the memo or they decided it was time for you to bring it out again," he chuckled again.
"Or they just didn't care," she said.
"Butterfly, I know you always had your eyes on them. Before Punk and before Fandango. You never could help but look at them when they walked into a room and the same goes for them. Their eyes would always find you," he said.
"But it still doesn't make it right," she said.
She was starting to feel angry. Everything Bray said was the truth but she still felt like something was missing. There had to be more to it.
"Why, Bray?" She looked up at him. "Why would they do this to me without talking to me about it first?"
"I wish I could answer that. When it comes to The Shield, even I haven't learned as much as I'd like to. They're too good to keep things hidden around the arenas unlike everyone else. But something must have happened for them to suddenly move in without warning. Can you recall anything out of the ordinary that happened the day they took you?" He asked.
It took a few moments to backtrack and remember that day. When it hit her, her jaw dropped and she stared at him with wide eyes.
"Punk came back," she said.
"That same day?" He asked.
"Fucking hell! I always had a feeling Punk was involved somehow. It's got to be him, right? I haven't been able to figure out why he hasn't moved in more since he's been back but in reality he's the one pulling all the strings, right?" She looked at him hopefully.
"I don't know but I can help you find out. I can help you with a lot of things," he said.
"There's just so much that doesn't make sense if Punk is involved. Why? And why them? How did he get them to do it? What's the end game?" She rambled off question after question.
He grabbed her hands again and squeezed to make her stop talking.
"There's only one question you should be asking yourself right now," he said. "Do you want my help or not?"
The first thing she noticed when she opened the door to the hotel room was the silence. She had left the tv running but it wasn't running anymore. She swallowed hard as she closed the door behind her, feeling eyes on her from somewhere in the darkness. She put down her purse on the near by table and started moving through the room.
"Where were you?" Dean stepped forward so she could see him.
"Out getting a drink," she answered.
"You didn't bring your phone," he said.
"I forgot," she said.
"Bullshit!" He sounded angry. "You left it here on purpose."
"So?" She shrugged her shoulders. "I came back. Isn't that all that matters?"
"Isn't that all...?" He repeated her words without finishing the sentence.
He ran a hand down his face and moved in to grab her arm, raising his voice as he spoke. He was angry, no doubt about it.
"No, that's not all that matters! How the fuck can we keep you safe if we don't know where you are?" He shouted.
"Keep me safe?" She shouted back. "That's fucking funny!"
She yanked her arm free and pushed him in the chest.
"You know what? I used to have all these crazy fantasies about different guys on the roster coming to rescue me when I was with Punk and you three idiots showed up in those several times but that was all it was. A fucking fantasy! A fucking lie! You're no better than him!" She shouted.
"Care to say that again?" He sneered.
"You're no better than Punk! You're just the fucking same as him!" She shouted even louder.
"Is that so?" His tone dropped incredible low.
In a second she found herself pushed up against the wall. He had a firm grip on her neck, making it impossible for her to move, while she heard him unbuckle his belt and pull it out of his jeans. He let go off her neck and instead grabbed her wrists and tied them together behind her back. He yanked her away from the wall and forced her down on her knees. He placed a foot on her neck, forcing her head down to the floor.
"So if I'm no better than him, I might as well treat you like he did!" He said angrily.
She tried to get free but it was impossible. He had her where he wanted and it was humiliating as he stood there pressing her face down into the floor with his foot. All she could was accept it and hope he would stop soon.
"Are you done?" He growled.
"Yes, Dean, I'm done!" She shouted.
He finally removed his foot but before she could even take a breath of relief, he dropped to his knees behind her, unbuttoning his pants and lifting up her skirt. He yanked her panties down to her thighs and quickly pushed himself inside her. He grabbed her hair and yanked her up violently while he thrust into her. As her head came up from the floor and she looked out in the dark room again, she saw two other figures standing there, just watching them. She had no idea how long they had been in there but they hadn't tried to stop Dean. In that moment she just wanted to tear them all apart.
"Come on!" Dean growled behind her.
But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't make her. She just stared straight ahead, blocking out everything, while he did what he wanted. He tried his hardest but he couldn't keep going and when he finally came, a string of curse words followed. Clearly he was still angry but this time he seemed more angry with himself for not being able to make her cum.
"Take her!" He growled as he pulled out of her. "Make that little bitch cum so fucking hard she's seeing stars!"
Seth and Roman grabbed an arm each and yanked her up from the floor.
"Really, Dean? You tied her up?" Roman chuckled.
"Just fuck her," Dean sighed.
"Gladly," Seth said.
"Let's get her on the couch," Roman said.
They moved her through the room. Her feet followed on their own but her mind was far away. Roman pulled his boxers down before sitting down on one end. Seth maneuvered her down on her knees in the middle of the couch while moving in on his own knees on the other end.
"Better earn our forgiveness," Roman said.
He grabbed her head and guided it towards his dick. As many times before she took him in her mouth, working mechanically without even thinking about it, while Seth pushed his dick inside her and started thrusting. It went on for a couple of minutes, nothing was heard but the two men's moaning.
"I'm close," Roman said.
"She's not," Seth said and tried spanking her ass once. "I'm getting nothing."
Roman reached under her to rub her clit, hoping they somehow could work her together into an orgasm.
"Come on, baby girl, let go," he whispered softly.
"Wow, there we go," Seth giggled happily as he felt her walls were starting to squeeze. "Keep going, big man. She's finally responding."
"Fucking hell!" Roman growled as he came in her mouth. "Sorry, couldn't hold it."
"It's okay. Just keep going with her," Seth said.
Roman kept rubbing her with one hand while he moved her head away from his dick with the other. Dean looked at them through the darkness and he wasn't sure if it was tears he saw in her eyes but he moved over and sat down on the coffee table, taking her head in both his hands and placing his lips on hers in a soft, apologetic kiss. Five seconds later she came, tears running down her cheeks while she moaned softly against Dean's lips. Seth thrust hard into her a couple of more times, happy to finally get his own release as well.
"Damn, Emily, making us work overtime here," he chuckled as he pulled out.
Dean pulled back just a little, looking into her wet eyes and running his thumbs over her cheeks, feeling how his fingers got wet from her tears.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
He got up from the coffee table and untied her. Seth grabbed her around her waist and pulled her back up from the couch. As soon as her feet touched the floor again, she moved to the bathroom to clean herself.
"What just happened?" Roman asked.
"I'm not sure. I think Dean might have broken her," Seth answered.
"Is that good or bad?" Dean asked.
"Really, Dean?" Roman rolled his eyes.
"She said I was no better than Punk," Dean suddenly felt stupid.
"We heard," Seth reached over and patted Dean's back. "You overreacted for sure but I'm not sure me or Roman would have acted any different due to the circumstances."
"We were all on edge by her disappearing like that and leaving her phone behind after what happened earlier in the museum. That combined with that argument just made shit fall down fast," Roman said.
She spent around 15 minutes in the bathroom. Most of the time she just sat on the toilet, looking at the wall, not wanting to go back out. When she finally managed to get a hold on herself, she walked out to a dark and quiet room. All three doors to their rooms were closed but she knew they all lied awake, waiting for her to pick one. She opened the door to Roman's room and got into bed with her back against him. He reached over to put his arm around her waist and pull her close as many times before. She grabbed his hand and moved it away before pushing her body forward again, just far enough for her not to touch him.
"No, baby girl," he mumbled and pulled her back up against him. "Just don't. Not tonight, not ever."
He leaned in to place a kiss between her shoulder blades before letting out a sigh. She waited, half expecting him to apologize or just say something more but no more words came out. Just his fingers stroking her stomach softly. She choked back a sigh on her own, not wanting to let him in on how bad she was feeling. She hadn't been lying when Dean had been holding her down with his foot on her neck. She was done.
