14: Apologies

"Your father laid into you tonight."

"He always does, and remind me, why couldn't we go to my house?" Liana lived in town, only blocks from her parents, and yet they were still at a damn hotel. She stopped Mark from unbuttoning her jeans, shoving at his hands. "I want to go home, Mark. I'm sick of hotels." She wanted her bed, her comfortable bed, and her comfy furniture, and the ability to change up her wardrobe a bit.

'Taker didn't overly care for her place, it was too small. "I don't like your house." He informed her bluntly, seeing the exasperated look on her face and sighed. "After I'm finished with you, you may go home if you wish."

Liana's entire face seemed to scrunch in on itself, except for her lips. They were pursed in a very sour sort of way. "Let you fuck me."

"Come on, precious, my cock has been hard for you all day. I need you. Now."

"Let you fuck me and then I can go home…" Sometimes, Liana still had to question her sanity, wondering what the hell she was doing with this man. "No, you can either come home with me, Mark, or use your hand. Or, you can find someone else to be your sex toy tonight. I want to go home. I haven't been there in months because you prefer your place." Shaking her head, she pushed herself off the bed and went to go put her shoes back on, her bag at the door where she had dropped it as soon as they walked in.

That led to 'Taker going to her house and bonking his head because he didn't duck enough to miss the doorframe. Had he mentioned he hated this fucking miniature home? "Son of a bitch!" He growled when he did it a second time on her bedroom door, wondering if she was really worth this annoyance. This humiliation. "This is why we stay at my place, because yours came off a fucking dollhouse toy line!"

"You know, I'm just now realizing… how much you bitch and whine." Liana remarked dryly, wondering what the hell his damage was. Yes, it was a tiny house. It was her starter home and if he was worried he was going to go through the damn floor or something then he was an idiot. The place wasn't that old and the house was solid. When he simply glared at her, she just glared back. "Well, you do. You're acting like a whiny bitch."

He could hear Avaline's voice in his head.

"No, you went down there and whined like a… like a bitch!"

"You will always be my bitch."

That's what Avaline had called him, referred to him as. A bitch. His temper was dangerously high, he was seeing red, and he didn't realize his hand was up.

Liana's eyes widened and all she could do was stand there and watch as that massive hand came flying at her. It connected with the side of her face and she went flying head over heels, over her bed and onto the floor, crumpling into the wall.

"Don't you ever call me that again!" He bellowed at her, watching impassively as she righted herself.

Liana half-expected him to come at her. Instead, he pivoted and stormed out of the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him hard enough to rattle the walls. She spent the next hour pretty close to where she had landed, only a few feet back, in the corner, with her knees drawn up. She knew she should probably have gone to get her face checked, to make sure nothing was cracked, but she couldn't bring herself to move.

Her cheek felt like it was on fire at first, until the pain set in after the initial slap, and she knew it would bruise and swell. She had no idea what to do besides cry.

'Taker didn't leave the house like he had intended. He had gotten as far as the couch before it set in what he had done. Now, he was sitting there, sinking into the cushions with his head in his hands, knowing he had just royally fucked up. Jesus, what was he going to do? Only hours ago he had promised her daddy he wouldn't hurt her and what did he do? Backhanded her!

He knew he should go check on her, make sure she was all right, make sure she wasn't unconscious but he couldn't move. He could do nothing but sit there and replay that moment over and over, cursing the day he had met Avaline Powers.

In the end, it was Liana who came to him. He heard her sniffling, her hesitant steps on the wooden stairs, and finally, her feet were in his line of vision. He watched her feet, aware she was slowly crouching down and then finally, finally… he could see her face. Her generally pale face was still red, and bruising already, swelling where he had struck her. Her normally smiling, too wide mouth was a thinly compressed line, and she looked pinched. Her eyes were rimmed red and he could see the tracks her tears had blazed on her cheeks.

"I'm sorry, 'Taker." She whispered.

He felt her hands reaching for his, pulling them away from his head.

"I shouldn't have said what I did."

"Don't… please." He whispered, trying not to let the guilt consume him but it was hard, especially with her apologizing to him. It should have been the other way around. "Don't apologize to me, Liana, not when it's me who should be saying it." He reached out, slowly, cautiously running his fingertips over her swollen cheek, his eyes suddenly feeling hot. "I know you must hate me, I'm so sorry, Liana…" He felt, actually felt, a drop of water… a tear, roll down his face.

She had made him cry. Liana felt like absolute shit now. The freaking Undertaker was crying because of her. "I don't hate you." He couldn't seem to stop looking away from the bruising so she tilted her head to the side and down, feeling her loose hair coming down to cover it, angling her face so her cheek wouldn't be so noticeable.

She had known he had control issues. She had known that once they were in the bedroom, he was in charge. She had been sassy and pushing his buttons all night, she knew better. And now he was crying. "Please, don't cry…" Slowly, she reached out until her hands were on his knees. "I'm sorry. I knew better and I shouldn't have been such an ass today."

'Taker shook his head, pulling her by her upper arms up until she was in his lap, and buried his face in the crook of her neck. "No, you did nothing wrong. It was me, it was me." He pursued her and dragged her into this arrangement, and now he was about to push her away. Was he? Maybe everything could still work out, they could move past this. "Tell me what to do to fix this."

And now he was knocking her for a loop again. She knew he could be kind and gentle. She also knew he could show when he was vulnerable, he just didn't let her glimpse those sides very often. "I don't want you to do anything." She said finally, not moving away from him, just wrapping her arms around him. "I already know you're sorry, and I forgive you."

"Let me make it up to you." He whispered, cupping the back of her head, guiding her mouth to his. "I know I'm not easy to get along with Liana, and I'm… rough around the edges… but you know I care for you, darlin'."

He had dropped the D word again and her eyes widened a fraction.

Guiding her down onto the carpeted floor, 'Taker slowly undressed Liana, taking his time, being gentle…. He knew he held power over her but at the same time, it was dawning on him that she held some sort of sway over him. It was dangerous, for the both of them, but somehow… somehow he would channel it, make this work.

"Yay, Shawn is back." Liana was very pleased to find Shawn had returned, a month later, it was now July. She still owed him for his remarks regarding their non-existent affair. "I'm going to pinch a nerve… and watch him do convulsions." Smirking, she took a sip of her water, brown eyes narrowed as she watched him saunter down the hall, away from them. Providing Bret didn't kick his ass first.

She was sitting with Kara, on top of a table in the catering area, wearing a pair of jean shorts and a cropped black shirt, her hair piled on top of her head. It was hotter than hell and this arena's air conditioning sucked nuts. "And there goes Bret, maybe I won't get my payback after all."

"You got issues Lia, I still love you though." Kara chuckled, sipping her own water. "As big an idiot as he acts, Shawn's not stupid enough to mess with you." She hoped, or else he'd probably find himself in a world of hurt.

Kara had been right, and Liana had to be satisfied with Bret reintroducing Shawn to pain. She had to focus on work anyway, not surprised when she was called in to serve as a consult when limbs were tweaked. She was giving serious thought to asking for a raise. This backstage bullshit of wrestlers doing what they wanted tended to get them hurt, and others.

She was so over half-naked, gross, sweaty men… "Why can't I ever get my hands on something delicious? No offense, Mick."

"None taken." Mick grinned down at her, laughing outright when she growled.

"Because none of the hotties do extremely stupid shit." Kara muttered, passing over the needle. "No offense, Foley. Ew… why do you have to do this?"

"Curt's commandeered me. See, we're not medics but we get pulled from our actual jobs to deal with your crap, Foley, because we're understaffed." How vacations had been booked all at once, in July, was beyond her but Liana would bet Vince had had someone's ass over it. "Mickey, really… I have blood, all over my shorts."

"I feel bad, Li, I really do." He informed her, looking almost serious minus the impish twinkle in his glazed eyes. "But I have blood all over."

"You win."