9

I Have To

(Since Sandra's birthday is Halloween, and this story is still taking place in 2009, I've written about "NXT" some so they have a reason for a long engagement what with Mr. McMahon trying to launch the new series and all.)

"Randy…I…"

His eyes narrow. Well, I should've known the happiness in them wouldn't last long. "Remember our little contract?"

I nod meekly. He smiles, "I got your daddy's permission. We're good to go, Baby."

"But—" I stop myself. There's really no way I can get out of this. I can't risk my father's reputation, or his company. I don't want to say yes, but I have to. For my damn dysfunctional family, and the stupid business.

"But what?" His voice turns into a low growl.

"Yes." I say finally.

"That's better." He stands up and places the ring on my finger. "It looks nice on you."

"Thank you." I look up into his light blue eyes. "How long?"

"What?"

"How long will the engagement be?"

"I'm sad to say for awhile. With your dad about to launch the whole 'NXT' thing in a few months, he has to cover some more business deals to pull that off."

I nod, "Alright. I—" I stop myself yet again. Since he just purposed…does that mean he does love me? Or is it all just a part of his ridiculous plan to take over the company? Doesn't he know that when and if my dad retires it will all go to Shane and Stephanie? I don't get jip until I'm 18.

"You…?" Randy leans up against the wall of the building and stares at me. "Just spit it out Sandra."

"Does this," I point to my ring finger, "mean you love me?"

He stares at me for a minute, looks down at the ground, and back at me. "Yeah."

My eyes widen, "Really? But what about—everything that—huh?"

"I'm sorry for everything I did to you. I'm a fucking monster, I can't help it. I've thought about it, and I want to make it up to you."

I don't believe one word he's saying.

"Randy—you can't make up for what you've done to me! You've raped me several times! And you still call it consensual, but the way I was screaming and crying and telling you to stop and get off me, that was rape!"

His jaw muscles tighten and he clenches his fists as he stares at me. "I said I was sorry."

"Sorry doesn't erase what you've done! Sorry doesn't erase the pain! The only way I'd feel better is if you were behind bars!" I take the ring off my finger and fling it at him. "Here's your ring, go ahead, tell the media how you took advantage of me and raped me!"

I start to stomp away, which is impossible in my heels, when he grabs my shoulder and spins me around. I try to slap him when one hand catches my arm and the other wraps around my waist.

"Randy—!"

He puts his lips on mine and tells me to shut up.

I know what's going to happen next. He'll probably hike my legs up around him and push me up against the wall.

"STOP!" I yell at the top of my lungs.

"Will you just shut up?" He hisses and presses me against the wall. "I'm not going to hurt you anymore!"

I stop struggling and stare at him. "What?"

"I said I'm not going to hurt you anymore." He says calmly. "Will you please take the ring back? I like the fact that you're the one wearing it."

I nod slowly, "Okay." And he slides the gold band back onto my finger.

"When you come back on the road I'll take you to pick out a nicer ring." Both his arms slither around my waist as he hugs me. I slowly put my arms around his neck and hug him back. He hasn't treated me like this since we first started our "thing" months ago. He used to always give me intimate hugs and be romantic with me, but one day things just changed.

We actually got into a fight. Not a physical one, just shouting at each other. Then it turned physical when he backhanded me and I hit the wall. He wasn't the same after that. I wasn't the same.

"Randy?" I say into his shoulder.

"Hmm?"

"What happened to you?"

He pulls back and looks down at me, "What do you mean?"

"Before…everything…you were so nice and sweet, romantic and funny. Then after our first fight—after the first time you hit me, everything was different. What happened?"

"I suppose it had something to do with me wanting to leave Sam, but she refused to sign the divorce papers. Every time you've rejected me, I think of Sam and take it out on you."

"Because I'm an easier target? Because I'm younger than you by 13 years, and it's just easier to do things to me because I'm defenseless?"

"Yeah."

I remove my arms from around his neck and he pulls his arms off me. "I need to go back inside and open my presents."

He laughs, "I still can't believe Big Dick Johnson popped out of your cake."

I laugh too, "Now I have to do something ten times as worse to Punk. Maybe hide Hornswoggle in the trunk of his car or in his suitcase or something."

"One more thing." He stops me.

"What?"

"I, uh, since I talked to your dad about our contract, I'm staying with you for tonight."

My shoulders slump, "Oh. Alright. I don't know how that's going to work out since I have at least seven of my friends spending the night."

He smirks, "I'll figure something out."

"Like what? Sneak into bed with me when everyone is asleep? They'd hear us, Randy." I say and walk back into the warehouse. I slide the ring onto my right middle finger so no one will ask about it.

What does almost every sixteen year old get for their birthday? A car, of course. But what does the sixteen year old daughter of the Chairman of World Wrestling Entertainment get? A cherry red Mercedes-Benz convertible, in honor of RAW. Kind of ridiculous, but amazing at the same time.

I pose for pictures with my friends in front of the car, then by myself, then with my parents, then with the wrestlers. John Morrison decided it would be funny to act like we were having sex in the backseat, when my dad wasn't around of course. Hornswoggle sat in the driver's seat with me in the passenger's side. Punk and I sat on the hood, and all the Divas that attended and I either sat in the car or on it.

Overall the party was really great, even if I did say yes to a marriage proposal. What? You know the situation; I really have no choice in the matter.

Since I have my driver's license (thanks to Randy taking me out driving before he became a total dickbag), all eight of us (my friends who were spending the night and I) manage to fit into my new car.

Driving downtown in the middle of the night in a small convertible with seven other girls in it is kind of difficult. Not to mention getting tons of text messages from Randy, and Gemma hiding my phone from our other friends so they don't figure things out.

"Where were you for 15 minutes at the party?" Kerri asks.

"I—uh—"

"She was making out with Jake, obviously!" Gemma winks at me.

Ella gasps, "He's like 26! But he's hot so it's okay!"

"You better tell me exactly what happened when we get back to your house." Gemma mumbles into my ear. I nod and continue driving.

We make it back to my house safely and loudly. It's like the drinks were spiked at the party or something by the way we are acting; stumbling over each other and laughing our asses off.

"Sssh!" Gemma puts a finger to her lips and laughs some more, which makes her pink curled hair bounce, "We don't wanna piss off McMahon!"

"The McMahons are staying the night in the guesthouse." Randy's voice booms from somewhere in the dark.

"SHIT! EVERYBODY RUN, WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE!" Gemma screams and runs into a nearby wall.

"You moron!" I fall on the floor laughing. "I recommend taking our heels off, it's easier to run!"

I hear another male chuckle, then a few more. Great, Randy brought Ted and Cody.

All my friends laugh and I can hear their heels hitting the tile floor and they're feet padding along the wood and carpet of the house, and a few more going up the stairs.

"Thanks Randy, just what I need! Eight teenage girls running around in the dark inside a mansion in short dresses!" I yell to him, wherever he is.

"I told you I'd find a way." I hear his breath on my ear. "I also cut the power."