Chapter 12: Time Out
Shane decided to take the night off to nurse his injuries from last night's street fight at King of the Ring. We knew that Vince would never okay a decision like that since he seems to have it in for his son, but Linda was all for it. She wanted me to take the night off to watch Shane, but Shane and I agreed that it would look too suspicious. It was my plan to go back to the hotel after the show, but Mark and the guys were going out and wanted me to go. I tried to come up with every excuse I could, but Shane was adamant that I go have a fun night out.
After the taping loop this week, Shane is off to Canada to do his big presentation, now with six stitches in his forehead. I know he's not happy about that, but there's not a whole lot he can do. He wanted me to come with him for the presentation, but I'm doing tag matches with Lita on the house show loop while he's gone. I'm not going to lie; I'm going to miss having him around while he's gone.
Vince put me in a match against Ivory. It was a hard-fought match; I barely squeaked out the victory. I made my way backstage, catching Trish for the first time since I arrived. She was dressed to manage, in a black vinyl mini-skirt and a black halter top, with a zebra trench-coat and hat.
"Good match out there."
"It's hard to have a bad match with Ivory," I told her. She fell into step beside me.
"You're absolutely glowing. Somebody got the pipe last night."
"You're the worst, Trish. The absolute worst."
"I know that glow, honey." She draped her arm over my shoulders. "Was it good?"
"I'm not talking about that here, and I got plans tonight, so you're just going to have to wait." Trish pouted. "Seriously, Trish, sometimes I think you're out to get me killed back here." Trish laughed.
"How's he doing?" she asked, removing her arm from around my shoulders. "That was a hell of a beating."
"It was," I agreed. "He's hurt. But he's okay. He decided to hang back and lick his wounds a little."
"Why do I sense there's more to it?" Trish asked as we walked into the Divas locker room.
"Because there is. He's beating himself up over the loss." I shook my head. "He saw this as his last chance to make Kurt back off." Trish nodded.
"I get that." I went to my bag and grabbed a pair of black slacks and a burgundy flowing halter top to wear out after the show. "Have you seen Kurt tonight?"
"No. But I've been in hiding tonight."
"You really should say something about him assaulting you, Rinoa. That's not right at all."
"I know it's not. But Kurt knows about Shane and I. I'm not sure how he found out, but he knows. And the second I admit it, he's going to have this blackmail material on me, and on Shane." I shook my head. "I don't know how this situation became such a mess, but it is. And if he goes to Vince, I'm going to get fired. And with the way he's been acting, I'd hate to think about what he would do to Shane for getting involved with me."
"I know you don't want to hear this, but...have you thought about just going public? You do that, and it takes the wind out of his sails. I know you're scared of the fallout, but Kurt is getting worse."
"I don't know. I think this is a talk I should be having with Shane." Trish nodded.
"That's the first smart thing I've heard you say in all of this."
"Just because I had a match with Ivory tonight doesn't mean I won't throw down with you," I told her with a laugh.
"You love me," Trish reminded me.
"And I hate myself for it. I'm going to have a shower."
"But you didn't tell me about the glow!" Trish said. I sighed and disappeared into the shower. I didn't have to look back to know that she was pouting.
Tempest Bar was in full swing when I arrived with Mark, Kane, Trish, Jackie and Shawn Stasiak in tow. It's a bit of a drive back to the hotel in New Jersey – tonight's Raw was at the legendary Madison Square Garden arena – so I didn't want to stay out too late. Trish walked in by my side, dressed in a white peasant blouse that was off-the-shoulder and a denim mini-skirt. Jackie was in jeans and a black tank top, her braids pulled back into a low ponytail. Mark looked like he belonged in a biker bar, dressed head to toe in denim, with his bandana and sunglasses. Kane was casual, dressed in a T-shirt and jeans. I have to admit that it's hard to feel fearful for my safety with the Brothers of Destruction behind me.
Everyone hit the dance floor almost right away, leaving Mark and I sitting at a table, watching them. Trish tried to get him to join them on the floor, but he looked her dead in the eye and told her that dead men don't dance. I had to bite back a giggle as Trish pouted before she grabbed Shawn and dragged him to the floor.
I was drinking a whiskey sour – at Mark's insistence; he was doing the same – and I was all too aware of Mark's green eyes watching me through the lenses of his sunglasses. He leaned over to me.
"Are you going to be okay?" he asked. I nodded.
"Oh, yeah. I'm fine. Just thinking."
"Anything you want to talk about?" he asked. I sighed.
"I really wish it was something I could talk about, but I can't."
"Is it about what happened last night with Shane and Kurt?" he asked. I looked at him, and I knew I didn't have to say a word; the answer was written all over my face, imprinted in my eyes. Mark nodded, reaching out to put a hand on mine. In that moment, I knew that he was reading the entire situation loud and clear. Mark is a perceptive man; there's not a lot that gets past him. He slid over, closer to me. "Why did he attack Kurt last night, Rinoa? Level with me."
I looked at him, my eyes pleading with him, but he wasn't going to take no for an answer. With every day that passes, my secrets seem to be getting harder to keep. "You can tell me, Rinoa. Whatever is said is between the two of us and nobody else. You can trust me. Hunter did."
"Promise me you won't make a big deal out of this," I told him. He looked surprised by my response, but he nodded. I took a sip of my drink – with a wince, I'm not a whiskey drinker like the big Texan beside me – and took a deep breath. "Kurt got rough with me last night. He stormed the locker room and wouldn't leave."
"He fucking what?" Mark boomed. The loudness of his voice made me jump, and I was aware that a few of the patrons were looking at us. I wished the floor would open up and swallow me whole. He looked at me as if I had just told him the moon really was made of cheese, that Bigfoot really does exist.
"You promised you wouldn't make a big deal." He sighed and took a big sip of his drink.
"Did he hurt you?"
"A little. He, uh, pinned me against the wall." Mark looked like he was ready to break somebody's neck with his bare hands.
"How did Shane find out?"
"I don't want to go too deep into this." Mark cocked an eyebrow.
"Rinoa, you've got to trust somebody. What is going on with the two of you?"
"He's my best friend." Mark stared at me. I'm not sure if he believed my answer. "And he lost last night, so now he feels like he let me down. And I can't shake that feeling out of him."
"He's back at the hotel?" he asked. I nodded. "Go to him, Rinoa. You know you want to."
"I can't do that. I promised you guys I'd come out and have some fun. I promised Shane I would. Plus I came with Trish, so she's got the keys."
"You're too worried about him to have a good time." He looked at me, at the almost full drink in my hand. There was a moment of silence between us. "You're in love with him."
"Mark..."
"You don't have to answer. I can see it. Come on – let's go call you a cab and get you where you need to be."
We stood, the two of us walking towards the front exit. Mark was already on his cell phone, calling the cab. It's a half hour drive from New York to East Rutherford. We stood outside in the warm July evening. "I'm sorry, Mark," I offered.
"Oh, don't even worry about it. You think I've never been in love before?" he asked with a laugh. I shot him a look. "Besides, I'm worried about him, too. He took a hell of a beating last night."
"He did." We leaned against the wall. I sighed. "Everything's a mess."
"You can't help how you feel." He crossed his arms over his chest. "I've seen it for a while. He's had a thing for you since Chris showed him that video of your Japanese work." I looked at Mark, surprised. "He talked about you to anyone who would listen. And when you showed up...I saw the way he looked at you. I see the way he looks at you. I think he's in love with you, too."
"I owe you another night out," I told him, desperate to change the subject. Thankfully, he took the bait.
"You're goddamn right you do," he told me with a grin. The cab pulled up and he gave me a hug before opening the door. "I'll see you at SmackDown tomorrow. Don't worry – I'll handle Trish."
"Thank you. I'll see you tomorrow." I got inside the cab. He made sure I was inside and comfortable before he shut the door. I gave the driver directions and he drove away from the club. Mark stayed out on the sidewalk and watched until he disappeared from my view.
When I walked into the room, Shane was sitting on the bed watching a replay of Raw. He looked over at me, surprised. "Hey. What are you doing back so early?" he asked. He moved to get off the bed, but I motioned for him to stay as I kicked off my heeled sandals.
"Mark sent me back here."
"He did not."
"He did." I walked over to the bed and sat down beside him. "He said I wasn't having any fun. He said I needed to be here, so he called a cab and here I am."
"His sixth sense is uncanny," Shane remarked. I nodded.
"How's your stomach?" I asked. Last night, there was a bruise the shape of a trashcan forming from where he missed the Shooting Star Press. Grabbing the bottom of his shirt, I pulled it up to look at the red and purple bruise that was getting darker.
"I'm fine, Rinoa. At this rate, you're never going to have a social life again."
"I'm sorry. In my defense, Mark says he's worried about you, too." He winced when I touched the bruise.
"Stephanie called tonight."
"Oh? What does she want?"
"She's thinking about staging a comeback." I blinked.
"Is Hunter fine already? I thought he's going to be out for at least a year."
"He is, but Steph is going stir-crazy. Apparently, ECW just filed for chapter eleven."
"You're kidding." Extreme Championship Wrestling – ECW – is a little renegade promotion run by Paul Heyman. For the past couple years, the WWF has used the company as a developmental facility, taking talent like Tazz, Bubba Ray and D-Von Dudley, Lita, and Stone Cold Steve Austin. I've been hearing for a while that they've had financial troubles – he still owes Chris money – but I figured they were on an even keel since landing their TV deal with TNN. "I figured between your dad's money and the TV deal..."
"Paul is too...combative...to hold a TV deal," Shane said with a sigh.
"So, does this mean Stephanie is looking to buy ECW?"
"Yeah. She wants to merge the two of us and wage a two-front war."
"Oh." I looked down at my hands. "What do you think?"
"I feel iffy about it," he confessed. "It's hard to trust Stephanie, and when she gets involved with things, it can go from bad to worse in a real hurry. I'm supposed to see her when I get home before I head to the meeting, so I'm going to hear what she has planned there."
"That's nice. No more Invasion talk for tonight, though. No more work talk." He looked at me. I looked into his eyes and reached out to touch his face. He didn't shave today, so there's a little bit of stubble. "It was just a loss last night, Shane. It's okay."
"Noa..."
"I know it's hard for you. You almost had him. But we'll all live to fight another day. You still have your health, your friends, your family, your fans, and little old me, even though I know I'm the reason..."
"No. Stop that." He reached out to brush a strand of hair out of my face. "You haven't done anything wrong."
"Do you think we should just put all our cards on the table with your dad?" I asked. Shane looked stunned.
"We could. I thought you didn't want that?"
"I'm terrified of what your dad is going to do and what he's going to say. But this could take the wind out of Kurt's sails." I shook my head. "I feel like I'm running out of options here. And I know I said I wanted to stay quiet for my career, but I want to be able to hold hands in public with you. It's a little thing, but..."
"I get it. I feel the same way, Noa." He leaned back against the headboard. "If you really want to do this, why don't we do it when I get back from Canada? I'll set up a dinner with the family – Dad's less inclined to blow a gasket if Mom and Steph are there – and we'll just lay all our cards out on the table. Does that sound okay?"
"That sounds fine. It gives me a week to get my nerves under control." Shane moved so I could get into the bed beside him. "I'm not going to lie – it'll feel nice to not have to lie anymore. I mean, it was hot for a while, but it's exhausting."
"I agree with that," he said, draping his arm over my shoulders. I rested my head on his chest. We fell quiet as we watched the rest of the show. But there was definitely a new heaviness that hung in the air between us.
