Disclaimer: I do not own anything or having anything to do with the WWE or with the wrestlers mentioned in this fanfiction. I only wrote this for pure enjoyment of the sport and of its entertainers
Note: The Version of The Undertaker in this story is during his American Badass days.
Chapter Twenty
Moving up the stone steps, the sounds of her frantically thudding against their smooth texture echoed up to her ears. I have to move fast. I can't allow myself to go slow at all. The need to get back to Mark's home, and make sure Betty was safe ate away at her. She feared that something terrible had happened to the kind old woman that had shown her nothing but kindness and warmth. Reaching the top, Emma wasted little time in getting on the motorcycle. She watched him move in front of her before she wrapped her arms around him.
"Hang on, Emma!" Mark shouted. With a flick of the wrist, he revved the engine of the motorcycle up in a few seconds. "We are going back to the house a hell of a lot quicker than we did when we came here."
"I got no problem with that, Mark." Her arms tightened around his waist. Holding on for dear life, Emma jerked a bit on the back of the motorcycle from Mark spinning it around to face the direction they had come from. She tightened her eyes as a gust of wind came flying back, and hitting her hard in the face. Oh please be okay, Better. Don't be hurt. I don't think I could live with myself if they hurt you. Her eyes opened up, and looked down the road ahead. "I hope that we are not going to be too late, Mark."
"I am sure that we will get there in time to stop anything from happening or has happened." Speaking loudly over the engine, he took one of his hands off the handle bars, and rubbed the top of her hands, gently. "It is going to be okay, Emma. I am sure that Betty is okay, and that nothing is wrong."
"I hope so, Mark. I really hope so." She felt him take his hand away. Her arms remained tightened around his waist, unwilling to let go of him for a moment. "I don't think that I could handle it if they had gotten loose and done something to her while we were away."
"Oh trust me, Emma." Mark said. His voice took on a more demonic tone, expressing the seriousness of the situation. "If either one of those pencil neck geeks have put their hands on that kind old woman that is hard as nails, I will see to it that they get the ass kicking of a lifetime that they should have been given when they were little kids."
A faint smile came to her face at hearing his response to her. He is right on that one. Warren's parents made his life so easy for him, and gave him whatever he wanted. That is probably why he thinks that he can hurt me, and nothing happen to him. Moving her eyes away from him, Emma looked towards the direction of the road to his home. She gazed upon the site of Warren, Johnathan and Adam pulling out onto the road in front of them, and speeding down the way. Her fear started to rise to the surface once more from seeing them. She waited for Mark to stop the motorcycle at the road to his home before her body moved off of it.
"Those god damn assholes!" Mark shouted. Reaching into his pocket on his jeans, he brought out a black flip phone. "I am going to see where in the hell the damn cops are!"
Turning her eyes towards the gravel road, Emma looked up it. She noticed the form of someone laying on the ground in front of his home. Oh no...It can't be... Her body rushed up the driveway, moving as fast as her legs could take her. "Betty?" She asked, shouting out to her. Her voice screamed out to her, wanting to know if it was her. She pumped her hands at her sides, pushing her as hard as she could. Her eyes focused in on the fallen form before her eyes. "Betty!" Dropping to her knees, Emma turned the person over, and found it to be Betty.
"Those god damn punks got the better hand of me." Betty said, growling. "I swear, I am going to make them pay for this!"
Looking down, Emma noticed where Betty had been shot in one of calves. Her anger started to surface from finding her to be hurt. She looked back down the road to see Mark driving up on his motorcycle, and park it. "Mark," Emma said, frantically, "Betty's hurt! She has been shot in the leg. We need to get her inside of the house right now!"
"Oh I am not hurt." She grunted a bit as she tried to sit herself up on the ground. "It is just a little scratch." She went to stand up on her own despite the amount of pain that she was in at the moment. "You two don't need to worry about a little old woman like me."
"Betty, I am not going to walk away from you. You have helped me. So, I am returning the favor to you." Taking a breath, Emma rose up, and got a hold of one of her arms. She draped her arm over her shoulder after she knelt beside her. She looked up, and found Mark on the other side of her doing the same thing. "Let's get her inside, and wait on the cops to get here."
"That sounds like a good idea to me." Mark replied. "Once they show up here, I am going to give those stupid, doughnut eating jerks a piece of my mind if I don't decide to stomp my boot up their ass."
A smile moved across her face from finding Mark's sense of humor at the moment to fit the situation perfectly. She focused on her strength, and assisted him in taking Betty's hurt body inside of his home to wait for help to arrive.