Chapter 25

Snapping awake hours later, Emery bolted upright breathing heavily and a scream caught in her throat, clutching her it. She looked around, tears pooled in her eyes and immediately reached for her glasses on the nearby nightstand, sliding them on. Without them, she couldn't see two feet in front of her. It took a minute for her to realize where she was – her bed, her house…Sedona. Oh god…Emery trembled as she stumbled out of bed, looking down at the t-shirt she had on and checked below, breathing a huge sigh of relief at feeling her panties.

"Please don't be here, please don't be here…" She whispered, terrified out of her mind and opened the door, screaming bloody murder at the sight of Mark standing there. "NO!"

He had been checking her mail, her voicemail and email, replying to texts messages on her behalf. Her friends were worried and Orton was trying to explain how he didn't blame her for his suspension. He just wanted to know how the hell that had all gone down. Mark also had her new comic book; he had been so happy about that, the blood where her head hit the mat at the end was hilarious.

"Shut the fuck up." He ordered, throwing the comic in her face. "Mail call, Emery."

"No!" Emery threw it right back in his face, watching it bounce off his chest and land on the carpeted floor below at his feet. "I – I want nothing from you…"

He had knocked her out with a sleeper hold and kidnapped her from her parents' house! This had gotten out of hand and Emery was officially terrified now, seeing he had her phone in his hand. If there was a way she could get to it, she'd send Randy an SOS to come save her. Her parents…

"Please tell me my parents are okay. Please tell me you didn't hurt them…" When he showed her a text from her mother asking if she'd made it home safely, Emery collapsed on the bed and put her face in her hands, relief flooding her entire body that her parents were safe and sound.

"They think we all had a bit too much to drink and I let them know I brought you home since you're so worried about the fallout from WrestleMania. Randy is suspended, the little pothead, and Cheryl is asking your advice on a million things. I told her to go ahead on giving David his rematch at Backlash. I'm looking forward to it, thanks for that." Mark then crushed her phone in his fist. "Your laptops and computer bullshit are gone, by the way. You can have it all back after I leave."

"Why did you do that?! That was my phone!" Emery snapped, not believing he just crushed her phone as the pieces dropped to the carpeted floor alongside the comic book. "Then leave. What the fuck is stopping you? Just walk out the door and go home or, better yet, go to hell!" When he took a step toward her, Emery scrambled to the other side of the bed, not wanting to be anywhere near him. He scared her to death as her hand clutched her throat, the tears in her eyes flowing down her cheeks. "This is my house and you're not welcome here anymore. Get out now!"

"You're cute, thinking you have a say in anything anymore, sweetheart." Mark kneeled on the bed, staring at her in pure amusement. "Your say was all in those little storylines you spun… that's your world, Queenie. We're not in your world and you have no say, not anymore." Quick as lightening he was off the bed and had her pinned to the wall, his hands splayed on either side of her head. His knee firmly planted between her legs so she couldn't nail him in the balls. "You never said no before anyway, not to the point of meaning it. Why start now?" He bent down, inhaling her scent of fear mixed with her own personal one and let out a low rumble of approval.

"That's before I realized what a psychotic bastard you are."

Emery didn't know if Mark would rape her, not knowing a damn thing about this man apparently. All she could do was stand there, trembling in fear with absolutely no desire in her body language. She had fallen for a monster and squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head.

"No – NO!" Digging her nails into his bare chest, Emery shoved him as hard as she could with all the strength she could muster up in her body and made him fall back on the bed with her on top of him. The velocity forced her to slide off him to the floor and she scrambled to her feet, bolting down the hallway toward the front door. "GET AWAY FROM ME!"

When he heard a thud, Mark knew she had tripped over the saran wrap he had put up at the entrance of the hall, laughing as he followed her at a leisurely pace. "Now Emery, as if I don't know how spry and wily you can be…" He dropped down over her, straddling her and grabbed her hands when she went to hit him. "I told you before, you'd never get the last word in. You'd never be able to walk out to end a conversation, none of that. Why is it, you seem hell bent on ignoring everything I've told you, Queenie?"

"Get off me!" She shouted, struggling against him and cried her heart out, having face planted into the carpet. Her face did not feel good at the moment and she was pretty sure her chin would be bruised come morning. "I don't want you! I don't want anything to do with you!" Emery balled her fists up tightly, the icy rage burning in her eyes as she tried finding a way out of this predicament. "What are you gonna do? Rape me? Because that's the only way I'll give myself to you again, asshole!" She spat in his face, literally, gritting her teeth angrily while her entire body trembled against him to the point where her teeth began to slowly chatter.

"Rape you?" His voice dripped with disdain as he stared down at her intently. "DC, get serious… this isn't one of your little role-playing games. Why the fuck would I want to rape YOU?" Mark began laughing at her. "Sweetheart, you gave up the goods so many times that rape would be really, really redundant." He pushed himself off her, hand grabbing hold of her loose hair, dragging her up onto her feet.

"Fuck you!"

Then she did something she hadn't done before and nailed him directly between the legs, his hand instantly releasing her hair. Emery stumbled back while he roared out in pain, dropping to his knees and she could only stare at him in bewilderment, not believing she just did that. Did she really just kick Undertaker below the belt?! There would be no more games played between them as she stepped over the saran wrap and quickly pulled something from under her bed, pulling out her gun. It was small, but effective and if he didn't leave her house, she would shoot him. Putting the bullets inside of it, she clicked it back and walked back inside the living room, seeing him STILL on his knees cursing violently.

"I'm only telling you this once, so pay attention." Clicking the trigger back, she held the gun steadily as heartbreaking tears slid down her cheeks. "Get the fuck out of my house and out of my life. I want nothing to do with you. I want nothing to do with your sick twisted games anymore. I'm DONE with all of it. And if you don't think this thing is loaded, I can prove you wrong by shooting you in the leg. So, what's it going to be, Calaway? Life or death?"

"Can't escape your video game shit can you?" He groaned, rolling onto his back and exhaled slowly. "You set yourself as a hero… slaying us all with your stories and then, when the bad guy rises, you get to be the temporary victim, then rise up to slay him. Be my fucking guest, shoot me." His eyes closed and, when it felt like he could stop holding his poor balls, he folded his hands beneath his head. "You already tried destroying my career… you've lied repeatedly to me while sleeping with me… Might as well shoot me too."

"Is that what you really think? You actually believe that bullshit you just spewed out of your mouth, don't you? You believe that I see my job, the thing I've done for 10 years and poured MY blood, sweat and tears into – good or bad – as a GAME? I've got news for you, Calaway, unlike SOME people, I separate fact from fiction! I don't take my love for gaming THAT seriously! I didn't try destroying your career either, how could you even say that? I gave Vince a line and it was a wrong move on my part, but…I wasn't thinking about just you when I wrote it. I was thinking about WrestleMania as a whole, the company as a whole. I meant what I said, new blood has to rise and Batista was the champion. Do you think I wanted to hand him that victory at WrestleMania? NO! I didn't, but there was no choice. Vince wanted you in the world title picture with Batista and…at the time…yes, I made a mistake by writing out that you should lose at Mania to him. But I'm only human, Mark. I'm a human fucking being and I make mistakes! It's not just you that I've made mistakes with!" Emery put the safety on the gun and walked away from him to sit on the couch, still holding it on her lap and couldn't stop trembling. "I never thought of you as a means to an end. I really truly enjoyed being with you. I had fun with you. You made me forget about my stressful job and made me question everything about myself. After getting to know you and seeing how passionate you are about your job, I realized that I made a colossal mistake, but there was nothing I could do to change it. Vince signed off on it, and you got what you wanted in the end anyway. You're the champion, your legacy is still intact and now you've scared me so damn badly, I nearly put a bullet in you! The only thing I can say is I'm sorry. I won't ever touch your scripts again, I swear to you. Cheryl can handle yours, she's good at what she does and comes up with decent ideas and you can even collaborate with her if it makes you feel better. Just please…no more…" Tossing the gun on the coffee table, Emery buried her head in her hands. "And I'm no hero – I never was and I never will be."

"You're goddamn right you're no hero! You're a meddling, lying bitch is what you are."

Mark was up and had swiped that gun away out of her reach. Apparently, a sleeper hold to settle her down and relocate her for their impending argument had caused her flight or fight and 'terrified of him' instincts to rise. It was kind of stupid actually, because of everything he had done before, she should have been scared a long time ago.

"Why… Emery, just… why? Why couldn't you tell me the truth? You thought so little of me…"

"No! No I didn't! I didn't think little of you…I-I was scared to tell you the truth. Scared of you finding out and ruining what we had going on. I didn't want it to end." Emery cried out, scooting further down the couch instinctively and wrapped her arms around her drawn up knees tightly. "The only thing I lied to you about was my position on the writing team, Mark. Other than that, I've been completely honest with you. It was my job to write out scripts for Vince and he approved them or denied them. I never once thought of you as my job while I was fucking you or hanging out with you. I was a coward and I'm sorry – I'm sorry…"

Her heart shattered to pieces because the harsh realization crashed over her at that moment. She was in love with this Neanderthal. Dropping down against the wall, Mark slid to the floor. His balls were killing him and he had a sudden fear of testicle retrieval in his near future. He eyed the gun in his hand, removing the bullet and tossed it across the room before throwing the gun in the opposite direction.

"The truth always sets you free, Emery." He whispered, knowing she could hear him loud and clear. "All lies do is destroy…" He was such an asshole, he cared for this dork more than he had thought he would.

"I know."

Emery understood that better than ever, having learned a valuable lesson with this entire situation. She didn't move from the couch, continuing to tremble and curled up in a tight ball, sobbing. Mark had scared the hell out of her and her heart wouldn't stop hammering against her chest. It was beating faster than a jackrabbit's and she tried to take deep breaths, only to remember the sleeper hold all over again. If he was capable of all this, what else could he do to her? He was right though; lies did destroy because what they had was obliterated due to her lies. Not moving, Emery just kept her eyes closed and tried to calm herself down somehow before she ended up having a heart attack. She was struggling to get her breathing under control and, for a brief moment, a flash of remorse entered his eyes. Mark gingerly pushed himself upright and limped his way over to sit on the couch. He felt her tense, even as he pulled her onto his lap. He had meant to scare her and it had worked out better than he had planned.

"Calm down, darlin'." He whispered soothingly in her ear, stroking her hair. "Calm down, Emery."

She trembled against him for a solid hour, but eventually his body heat combined with exhaustion won out and her body slowly relaxed along with her breathing. Her heart rate also returned to normal along with her pulse, the fear slowly melting away. Then she cried hard, more than she had in her life, her tears soaking his bare chest while he continuously stroked her back up and down. After another hour, Emery finally pushed herself to sit upright on his lap and took her glasses off to wipe the excess tears away before cleaning and replacing them.

"Please tell me you believe me. T-Tell me you don't hate me, Mark…" Her red-rimmed bloodshot sky blues gazed into his emerald eyes, clasping her hands tightly in her lap. "Please tell me you forgive me." It was spoken in a whisper.

Sighing, Mark buried his face in her hair and thought about it. He didn't know if he would believe her for a long time to come. If she would have come to him… told him, once they had started their relationship, past that first night… He had plenty of time to think about how he would have reacted and knew he would have been mad, but not like this. Mark would've forgave her without terrorizing her.

"I forgive you and I don't hate you." That was the best she was going to get right now.

"Okay."

That was enough for her. Emery didn't expect him to say he believed her because she would have to undoubtedly regain his trust. That was if she decided to stay with WWE and not find a different job. She had no idea if he even wanted to be with her anymore, knowing their friends with benefits had developed into something much more. What it was – she had no idea and didn't have enough strength inside of her to question anything. Emery meant what she said, Cheryl would be dealing with all of Mark's scripts from this day forward. She wouldn't touch anything of his in the company ever again, wanting no part of his character or legacy.