Chapter Twenty-One: All Hell Breaks Loose
She had plans for Thalia, though. And Randy Orton, and Undertaker, Kane, she had plans for all of them. She was going to make them pay.
If it was the last thing she did, she would make them pay.
"Where is she?" John Cena demanded, pacing back and forth in the locker room. He was already in his gear, his Chain Gang wristbands attached, his Hustle, Loyalty, Respect shirt on over his broad chest. He adjusted the visor on his head, and stared at the clock on the wall. It was only minutes before the tag team match between them and Orton and Taker, and Mira was nowhere to be seen. He had been leaving her messages on her cell phone and house phone all week, but nobody had heard from her. It was as though she had gone into hiding.
Batista looked up. "Look, if she's not out with us, whatever. She knows what tonight is and she'll probably make a grand entrance as soon as she arrives," he replied. "You know how that works."
Cena nodded. "I just can't seem to get a hold of her."
"You gotta give her some space, man," Batista told him, putting on his knee pads. "You've been really overprotective of her."
"I just wish that this shit wasn't happening," Cena replied. "She only wants to be GM. She doesn't need this." Batista wanted to say something about all the attention Cena had been paying to Mira, but he opted to keep his mouth shut. Cena was moody enough about the absence of Mira, and the last thing that Batista needed to do was exacerbate things before their big match. "You ready to go?" Cena asked. Batista nodded, and the duo left the locker room together. .
Mira arrived at the arena and quickly went to the locker room to find Cena and Batista had gone for their match. She was running late and she knew it. An accident on the bridge had severed her from the arena, and she didn't feel like calling the guys to explain it. They knew her anyway; she would be there when she was there, and she had their backs.
She set about getting changed, changing into blue valour track pants and a blue spaghetti strapped tank top. Forget looking good, this was about who could be more flexible in action. Tonight she wasn't there to flash her underwear as she beat down the eye candy of Orton's faction, she was there to stomp someone. And she knew a miniskirt was not going to help her at all in this situation. Pulling her hair into a tight, tight ponytail, she took off her bracelet and stuck it back in her duffel bag before twisting the diamond on her ring inward. When she slapped that bitch, Thalia was going to look in the mirror and remember it for what she hoped would be the rest of that bitch's life.
Thalia was on the ring apron, keeping the referee distracted. Randy Orton was tapping out to the STFU, but the referee wasn't seeing it while Thalia was bickering profusely with him over something stupid. Running down the ramp and sliding into the ring, Mira charged across the canvas and leveled Thalia with a spear through the middle rope, taking them both down to the floor.
Mira felt a sharp pain in her neck when she landed, but ignored it and got to her feet as Thalia got up and charged. Mira charged back, taking Thalia down with the Lou Thesz press, punching her and slapping her repeatedly, her face lining red with each diamond incision that Mira's ring made.
The referee turned back to the action in the ring and saw Randy Orton tapping out and declared the victory while Batista attempted to pull Mira off of Thalia. With a defensive elbow to his head - by accident - Batista let her go, causing her to grab Thalia by her dark brown hair and throw her to the mat. She began stomping on her, as Kane, Viscera and Mordecai made their way down the ramp, followed by Carlito and DX, who promptly attacked the trio that came out.
As the brawling grew rampant, Mira continued her assault on Thalia, keeping her focus on the best friend who had betrayed her. That is, until she felt two large arms grab her around her waist and pull her away. She began trying to pry, but she saw the Chain Gang wristbands and realized it was John Cena pulling her away from the ringside area.
John Cena dropped her down in her office. "What the fuck are you doing?" she yelled, slapping his chest. "Let's get back out there!"
"Oh, no we don't," he said, holding her back with a large hand. "I wanna know where you been this last week. I've been calling and calling..."
"It's none of your business where I've been!" she raged. "When the hell did you become my parent?"
"When you were smart enough to get your ass kidnapped," he told her, his voice just as hostile as hers. She glared at him, her body heaving with angry breaths. She went to slap him, but he caught her hand in midair.
"I hate you," she yelled.
"I hate you more," he snarled. She shook out of his grasp and she stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind her.
He stood alone in the office, running his tongue along the inside of his mouth in frustration. Then he realized the severity of the fight and the fact that she had just run out on him. "Mira..." He ran out of the office, but she was already long gone.
He found Mira walking towards her car out in the open parking lot. It was starting to rain lightly, like a mist. "Mira! Mira, stop!" he called out, but she kept walking, eyes downcast to the ground, arms crossed over her chest. He loved watching her walk, the way her hips swung. He shook it off and focused. She was going to ignore him, and he knew it. But he was going to be damned to leave things like this between them. And he didn't care whether or not she wanted it right now, she was not going to run away from this. They were going to settle it tonight. Get it all out in the open.
She walked past her car, and down the front steps of the Mississippi arena, which took her to the banks of the Mississippi River. Cena was starting to get irritated. He wasn't wearing a shirt and the rain was starting to pick up, and quite frankly, it was cold as hell. "Mira, will you stop!" he called out to her.
"Go away!" she yelled back. "Just get out of my face, Cena. Better yet: get out of my life!"
"Mira, would you quit being so god damn stubborn!"
"Fuck off!" she screamed back. "I'm sorry you had to waste all your time on me." She wheeled around. "Let's get one thing straight: I never asked you to rescue me! I never asked you to help me! I never asked you for anything! So leave me alone!" With that, she continued to walk towards the water.
"Mira, would you stop? Let's go back into the arena. Talk. Like actual human beings..." He saw Batista, Carlito, Torrie, and DX on the steps leading down the bank, and he suddenly became very aware of their actions.
"Just leave me alone, John Cena," she cried back, obviously hysterical. She was in the water to her ankles, walking along the beach, kicking the water and sand. The rain was starting to drizzle and the thunder cracked. Cena stood, hands on his hips, his breathing getting ragged with frustration.
"Mira Barerra, would you stop this?" he said, running after her. He grabbed her shoulders and she turned, swinging. He expected it and arched back, letting her go and watching her fall into the ankle deep water.
If you thought she was pissed off before...
"God damn it!" she shouted as the cold water hit her with the initial shock. She sat in the water as the rain poured. She stood up. He went towards her, but she shoved him back roughly. "Just get out of my face!" she shouted. She turned to continue her descent down the beach and he grabbed her roughly, yanking her to face him.
"No!" he shouted back just as roughly. "Mira, you can't keep doing this. You can't keep not telling us anything! You're not going to run away from me!"
"You suffocate me!" she snarled. "Let me the fuck go."
"Mira, would you stop this?" he pleaded. He was growing increasingly embarrassed by the Divas and Superstars gathering at the steps. He saw a few more join the ranks: Mickie, the Spirit Squad, Candice and Maria.
"Just leave me alone," she screamed, still beating on his chest to let her go. She was drenched, she was cold, she wanted to go home and she wanted to be alone. "Just let me go..." she sobbed. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her and held her. She continued to struggle.
"Get...off...me!" she was crying. She managed to break out of his grasp and walk away. "Just leave me alone, Cena, please... just...go away..." She went to walk away, but he grabbed her again, turned her around and pressed his lips against hers.
When he pulled away, they stared at each other in shock, blue eyes locked wide.
There's no going back now. What does this mean for John Cena and Mira Barrera?