Someone in the World
Summary:What happens when you have nobody left? When there's nobody to look out for you except yourself? Harlan hits the road and finds the one thing she thought she'd never have again: Hope. A story of a broken family and discovering that family doesn't need to be connected by blood. Rated T. Some later chapters will be rated M with the introduction of a romantic angle.
Warnings: Strong language and violence. Also: scenes of a sexual nature. (A rating of M is posted at the beginning of a chapter)
Disclaimer: This is all fiction! It all came from my crummy brain. Any songs, cars, movies, TV shows, celebrities, known wrestlers, or even brands mentioned all belong to their respective owners. The only people I "own" are the obviously fictional ones, such as Harlan Grace Matheson, her family, Ray and any other fake characters that pop into this. As wrestling fans, I trust we all know who I made up and who is real...That reminds me, if anyone happens to have that exact name combination (Harlan Grace Matheson), sorry...It's pure coincidence and chance. I spent several days coming up with that name. Please don't take it away from me.
"I'm going to go wait by the car, alright?" Harlan said. Dean was clearly ticked off about having had to be Punk's personal punching bag. She needed to talk to Dean, but she needed him to cool off first, and she wasn't sure if her presence in the room would calm him or make things worse.
"Don't worry about it, Harley. He'll cool off. See you in a bit" Seth said; an apologetic look on his face.
Harlan grabbed her bag and walked out of the locker room, making a quick exit out of the building and walking out into the sectioned off parking lot. On her way to Dean's SUV, she heard the VIP door behind her open and close.
"Harlan!" Punk's voice called out to her.
She tensed, and the same anxious feeling dropped into her stomach once again. Turning, she plastered a small smile on her face and waved at the inked man.
"Hey, Phil. Great match, you really gave it to Dean, eh?" she remarked; she did her best to sound nonchalant, but when she caught sight of the look in Punk's eyes she knew the gig was up.
"Let's forget about that for now; right now, I really want to talk about something Ambrose said to me in the ring" Punk said, agitation dripping from his voice.
"What did he say?" she said, taking hold of her bag's shoulder strap in both hands, twisting and turning the material nervously.
"In his words, and I quote, he nailed you. Care to explain that one to me?" Punk said with a massive frown on his face.
With one eyebrow raised, Harlan put a hand on her hip and considered Punk's question.
"First, how about you fill me in on why YOU feel like I should be explaining anything to you?" she shot back.
Surprised, Punk took a step back from her before answering her.
"I made a promise that I would watch out for you, and you're apparently running around keeping strange bed fellows" he said, pointing at her for emphasis.
"Running around? Strange bed fellows? Really, Phil, is that necessary? Does keeping an eye on me include accusing me of being a giant slut?" she said while rolling her eyes.
"Fine, you're right, I exaggerated just now, and I'm sorry, but can you blame me? Here I am, trying to look out for you, and I find this out after we had that moment on the steps. You think you're confused!?" Punk shouted.
"Keep your voice down, will you? I don't know what it is that you want me to say. It's not what you think, okay? It's not" Harlan said in an attempt to calm down the angry pierced man in front of her.
Running a hand through his wet hair, Punk paced back and forth before finally facing her again. This time, his eyes were calm, concerned even.
"He didn't take advantage of you? He didn't hurt you?" Punk asked in a low voice.
"No! God, no! You said it yourself; you never pegged him as the type to hit a woman. It should go without saying he isn't the type of guy who forces himself on a woman either. Believe it or not, he rejected me and I did my damnedest to convince him" Harlan explained, a slight blush on her cheeks.
She watched as Punk's expression changed; for the shortest of seconds, it almost looked like he was disappointed. But as quick as it had appeared, it was gone. Chewing on his lip ring, he stood there silently, looking at her with an uncertain expression on his face.
"Why is this bothering you so much? I know you helped get me here, to the WWE, I mean. I'll never forget that, Phil. You've done so much for me and you've been here for me too. I know that, and it's not something I'll ever forget. Believe me, I trust you and I appreciate you" she said earnestly.
Punk knew it was the moment in which he should tell her Dean had also played a major part in getting her recruited by the WWE. He knew he should, but he didn't. With a sour taste in his mouth, he faked a smile and opened up his arms.
"Come here, okay? Let's forget all of this" he mumbled.
Harlan walked towards him and accepted the hug; with her arms around his torso, she reached up as best as she could and patted him on the back. Despite noticing he hadn't answered her last question, and despite feeling slightly annoyed at the fact he had demanded an explanation, she relaxed into his arms and enjoyed the contact. The man could hug, she would give him that.
Pulling apart, she was relieved to find his face held the same calm, slightly amused, expression he usually had.
"Plans tonight?" he asked her.
"I don't know, actually. I'm, uhh, you know, a guest of Dean's and the boys, so I guess I should probably wait and see if they've planned anything" she said in a ramble; she hoped that she had managed to skim over the fact she was Dean's guest.
"Fair enough, well, if you've got nothing else to do, shoot me a text. A few of us are heading out for a late dinner. I don't know what the hell I'm going to eat; it's a steakhouse, and I don't eat meat these days, but I know a lot of those guys would love to see you again" he said; a half-smile played upon his lips.
Exchanging numbers, they agreed that she would let him know later on. They walked their separate ways; he went towards his tour bus and she went towards Dean's SUV. She leaned against the car as the bus took off, and a few minutes later, she heard voices off in the distance. Turning her head towards the arena, she caught sight of the three Shield members walking her way.
She watched as Dean walked towards her, and the sort of careless ease he had. It wasn't the same as the cocky "in your face" strut other men had; Dean had a quiet and smooth confidence. Her heartbeat increased and she felt a fluttering in her stomach. Flattening her back against the car, she waited while holding her breath, hoping he was calm or, at least, calmer.
She heard the car doors unlock as Dean pressed the button on the little remote. Roman approached her and took her bag, going around back with Seth to put the bags in the trunk. Dean leaned his shoulder against the driver's side door and looked down at her. Rubbing the back of his neck, he cleared his throat.
"I didn't mean to lay all that on you, alright? Are we good?" he said. If it hadn't been for the genuinely uncomfortable body language he was displaying, Harlan would have kicked him for his nearly half-assed attempt at an apology. Biting back her sarcasm, she nodded at him.
"Sure, we're good. Don't make it a habit, though, okay? I'm not your verbal punching bag" she said, her pointed stare bringing home the seriousness for him. She wanted to give him shit for telling Punk he had "nailed her", but at the moment, with everything being uncertain and undefined, she didn't feel it was entirely fair. A part of her recognized it was nothing more than locker room talk between two men, but another part of her cringed at the thought of people overhearing that sort of thing.
"By the way, what's the plan now?" she asked him, checking her watch and clearing her mind of all the noise.
Dean's eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he watched her, "You have plans or something?"
Harlan shrugged, "Apparently there's a dinner going down at a steakhouse, and a bunch of WWE superstars are going to be there. It's not a big deal if I don't go"
"Nah, you should go. I'm not going to tie you down, sweetheart" he said with a wink. With that, he turned and climbed into the car.
Once Harlan was buckled in, they drove back to Dean's place. Settling in for the night, the three men prepared their own dinners while Harlan headed up to the master suite to freshen up.
She secured her hair in a big bun on top of her head, then filled Dean's bathtub with warm water and some of her favorite vanilla scented bubble bath soap. She lay in the tub, enjoying the warm water all around her body; she leaned her head back against the tiled wall and closed her eyes.
"You doing okay?" Dean's voice suddenly filled the bathroom, rousing her from the almost meditative state she was in.
Harlan opened her eyes slowly and turned her head. Dean stood in front of the bathroom sink; the medicine cabinet was open and she could see that he was reaching for some pain relief cream.
"Are YOU okay? He really put a number on you, didn't he?" she said softly.
"Nothing I can't handle, but I rather not cringe every time I reach for a beer" he said lightheartedly. She watched as he took his shirt off and threw it on the ground. He unscrewed the cap off the tube of cream and squirted some out onto the tips of his fingers. He smoothed the cream onto his right shoulder with deep, even circles.
Sighing, she stood up; the water dripped down her pale skin and fell into the tub with quiet little pin drop sounds. She reached over to the towel rack and grabbed the fluffy red towel she had found. Dean turned and watched her wrap it around herself securely. Ignoring the look in his eyes and the tingle it gave her, she stepped out of the tub and turned, bending down and releasing the plug to allow the water to drain.
She felt his strong arms circling her waist from behind; she fell back against his chest and he dropped his face down to her neck.
"You smell so fucking good when you're close to me like this" he whispered.
"Dean..." she warned. She really wanted to talk to him before anything else happened, but in all honesty, she didn't know if she could refuse him if he really tried. The warmth of his bare chest against her was already enough of a temptation.
"I know, I know. But you're making it really hard to NOT tie you down" he growled, his hot breath tickling her skin.
Turning in his arms, she reached up and dug her hands into the soft hair at the base of his head.
"We'll talk when I get back, okay? We really need to have this chat, but we owe it to ourselves to not rush it" she explained.
Leaning down, he placed his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. After a moment, he nodded.
"Alright, I'll play nice. I'm going to head back down and let you get yourself all glammed up, or whatever it is you chicks do" he said before he released his hold on her and left the bathroom, picking up his shirt on his way out.
Shaking her head and not dwelling on things, Harlan went about the business of getting ready for her night out at a Vegas steakhouse. She was getting more and more excited about the night out; not only was it a city she actually hadn't had too much exposure to, but she would also be getting the chance to break bread with real superstars.
Checking herself out in the mirror, she nodded satisfactorily. The mixed pattern, mid-thigh length dress seemed to be appropriate for a steakhouse; she wasn't sure if it was a jeans or pantyhose kind of place, so she figured this was a good compromise. The top half was black and white checkered cloth with thick tank top straps; the bottom half was loose and flared away from her hips in a soft A-line pattern of red plaid.
"Thank god I thought to bring a dress" she murmured.
She fluffed out her freshly straightened auburn locks and checked to see if her black eyeliner was even; satisfied, she then made sure all her earrings were on securely. She had her earlobes pierced and liked to wear silver studs; then, she had a silver industrial bar in her left ear's cartilage, and a small silver barbell through the top cartilage of her right ear. The barbell was meant for lip piercings, but she liked to wear it through her ear's cartilage better than the half loops most people had in that kind of piercing.
Heading down the steps, she heard sounds from the basement and decided to wander down and see what was going on. What she walked into was a straight up man cave.
The room was every sports fan's dream; there was a massive flatscreen TV against one wall, comfortable looking couches, sports memorabilia as decorations, and there was even a pool table and a mini fridge.
"Wow, so this is the playroom, eh?" she said jokingly.
"Hell yeah; I even convinced him to buy an Xbox" Roman said with a smile.
"You're a gamer?" Harlan asked; disbelief was evident in her features and in her voice.
"He's a COD-head" Seth chirped between chews of food.
"A COD-head? What the hell is that?" she asked as she wandered around the room, checking things out.
"Call of Duty; it's a military style first person shooter" Roman explained.
"It's as crappy as it sounds" Dean said dryly.
Harlan laughed lightly as she opened one door and found a laundry room. Walking farther back into the basement, she spotted another door and quickly peeked in; amazingly enough, he had a well thought out home gym.
"This place is much bigger than it looks from the outside" Harlan commented.
Walking back towards the men, the sound of tires crunching on gravel reached their ears and beams of light filtered in through the small window at ground level.
"You ride's here" Dean said. He resisted the urge to ask who it was; he didn't want to be one of those guys, plus, he could probably guess who was behind the wheel.
"Have fun, Harlan. Be careful" Roman said.
Seth winked at her, mouth full of food, and Dean simply watched her walk back to the stairs.
"I guess I'll see you guys later" Harlan said awkwardly. As she climbed the stairs, the doorbell sounded. She rushed up the stairs and grabbed her purse, slipped her feet into the black flats she had thankfully thought to bring, and opened the door.
"I'm glad you're coming out" Punk said; he managed a genuine smile despite the fact he was picking her up from Dean's house.
"Thanks for picking me up..." she said quietly.
They walked to Punk's rental car and climbed. Buckled up, he set the GPS system and pulled out of Dean's driveway.
The ride was mostly quiet; soft music played in the background and they kept light chatter going back and forth. Eventually, Punk sighed, and at a red light he ran a hand across his face.
"I have to confess something. I should have told you earlier, and I don't know why I didn't" he said; he sounded tired.
"Okay..." Harlan responded uncertainly.
"Dean was in the talent scout's office with me the day I went to recommend you for recruiting" Punk said in a rush.
Jolting slightly in her seat, she turned to stare at Punk quizzically.
"What? What are you talking about" she asked.
"I don't know much because we never talked about it, but he was there for the sole purpose of recommending you to the talent scout. He was pretty damn pushy about it, too. I have to say, if he hadn't been there, I'm not entirely sure you'd be in WWE. I think having it come from the both of us, and especially with the way Dean made his point, it really made the case for the scout" Punk explained.
Harlan didn't reply, instead she sat in silence and became lost in her thoughts. If she recalled everything correctly, at that time, she hadn't known he had been the one to get her out of the Cincinnati ring. They hadn't formally met, and they hadn't so much as said two peeps to each other.
What the hell? Why would he do that...?
Irrationally, she felt anxious and even a little scared. She wasn't used to this kind of thing; she had absolutely no clue why Dean had always helped her. With Punk, she knew it was because of Peyton's friend Colt asking him to, but with Dean it was always a mystery. It had always been a mystery. He had jumped into the ring to get her out of it, and ever since then, it was all a giant question mark to her.
"I'm sorry, I should have told you sooner" Punk said, pulling her out of her thoughts.
"Don't be sorry. Thank you for telling me..." she said, trailing off. She realized they had reached the steakhouse, and as Punk parked the car, she released her seatbelt and grabbed her purse. Anxious to jump out of the car, her fingers drummed against the soft leather.
After dinner, the group tumbled out of the steakhouse.
"Better than perfect" Joseph said, patting his stomach and barking with laughter.
The others joined in on the laughter, and Harlan assumed it was an inside joke. Looking up at the dark sky, she shivered slightly. She should have thought to bring a sweater, but she hadn't realized the night would be so chilly.
"Cold?" Dolph said, sidling up next to her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
"Yes, thank you" she said. The bleach blonde man had spent most of the dinner flirting with her, and against better judgment, she had shamelessly flirted back.
What are you doing, moron? Don't do this. You know you'll regret it
Ignoring her inner voice, she smiled up at Dolph. He smiled back at her, his blue eyes twinkling, before he turned his head to call out to the others.
"Who's coming to Velvet Haze?" he shouted.
"What's Velvet Haze?" Harlan asked him, looking up at him among the murmurs.
"It's a bar, lounge sort of place. You coming?" he asked her, flashing his pearly whites.
Don't go. Don't! Take a moment and THINK, don't just react. THINK, woman. THINK!
"Sure, I'll go" she said.
Punk overheard her and turned back; managing his face, he kept the disapproval off of his features as his eyes landed on the bleach blonde man with his arm around the redhead. Catching her eye, he nodded his head over to his car, gesturing for her to follow him for a second.
Excusing herself, she made her way to Punk and waited for him to speak.
"Are you sure about going to a bar tonight?" he asked her.
"Yeah, it'll be fun. I've had a good time talking to everyone" she said casually, avoiding eye contact.
"I'm not going, just so you know..." he said, hoping she would catch his drift.
"I'll be fine! Don't worry so much, you'll only age yourself even faster. Worst case scenario, I'll grab a cab" she said, sticking her tongue out at him.
"Okay, if you're sure" he said, holding his hands up in defeat. Unlocking the car, he reached in and brought out a zip up hoodie.
"Here, so you don't freeze your cute little ass off" he said with a smirk.
"Thanks, I'm really glad you're so focused on my bum's health" she said sarcastically, taking the hoodie and slipping it on. Giving him a quick hug, she turned back and rejoined Dolph and the others. With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, she listened as Punk's car drove away.
Looking around, she saw Joseph, Curtis, John, Alberto, Claudio, Stuart, Kofi and Michael were joining them. Seeing how large of a group it had turned out to be made her feel slightly better.
It'll be fine, yeah. It'll be totally fine
Everyone dispersed and made their way into the appropriate vehicles; Harlan followed Dolph towards his car and they climbed in. The ride wasn't too far, and as they neared the lounge, he pointed to her right.
"The hotel we're all staying at is just over there, see?" he said. She looked to where he was pointing and saw the well lit building. It seemed like an upscale place, but then again, she was used to run-of-the-mill motels.
"That's beautiful" she breathed out; it always amazed her to see the way WWE basically spoiled the talent in terms of accommodations. Not that they didn't deserve it, but still.
Parking, they headed towards the VIP entrance where Dolph dropped his name to the bouncer.
"Reservation under Nicholas" he said, flashing his driver's license and WWE personnel badge.
The bouncer checked the list and nodded, "The VIP room has been prepared; the hostess inside will take you there"
"Wow, that's so fucking badass" Harlan commented, watching the way the bouncer tapped his bluetooth headset and mumbled instructions to the hostess on the other side of the door. Sure enough, when their group stepped through the door, the hostess was ready to receive them and guided them towards their VIP room.
The place was a lot less showy than the club in Miami. It had a certain jazzy feel to it; subdued lighting, dark colored walls and decor and furniture. The music emanating from the speakers had a sultry sound to it; a woman with a raspy voice sang about an all consuming love.
"Aaaand I feel sorely out of place" Harlan whispered to Dolph. He smiled at her and shrugged, wrapping an arm around her waist.
"You're just fine, babe" he said.
Everybody spread out, getting comfortable in the VIP lounge, but Harlan tried to do the exact opposite. She didn't want to be too comfortable. Opting to sit at a single sofa chair instead of one of the long couches, she held her whiskey on the rocks and sipped slowly. It didn't take long before a few of the superstars stood around her, drinks in hand, questions firing at her.
"I am so very sorry to hear about your mother; in my culture, mothers are revered, and it is quite a loss when one passes away" Alberto said; his thick Mexican accent was a sudden throwback to the various Latino men she had met in recent times. She tried not to let the mistakes of other people influence her opinion of Alberto, and so she smiled sadly and nodded her head.
"Thank you, Alberto. I didn't have a very good relationship with her, so I can't say she was all that revered, but yeah, it still hurts"
"Of course it hurts; no matter what you two went through together, she was your blood. Blood is always thicker than any argument or disagreement. It hurts, no matter what, when you lose one of your own" he said passionately. She appreciated his words, and agreed with them.
Just think of him as Antonio Banderas. That guy's a doll, right? There ya go. Antonio. Alberto. Done!
Smiling to herself, she nodded in agreement.
"I hope this isn't too intrusive, but I heard that you also lost your father many years ago. Is that true?" John asked her, interrupting her internal conversation; his eyes were wide and earnest, and it almost reminded her of a puppy seeking approval.
"Uhmm, yeah... I lost my father when I was a little girl. He died in a car accident; apparently he fell asleep at the wheel..." she said. Instantly, she took a huge gulp of her drink, downing the entire thing in one fell swoop.
"Enough of that stuff, guys. Let's talk about Cincinnati" Mike exclaimed in an attempt to distract everyone, including Harlan, from the morbidly depressing conversation.
Cheers sounded out, much to her surprise.
"Yeah, what was that like?" Kofi asked her, genuine interest in his eyes.
"It was stupid, that's what it was like" Harlan said, bringing laughter from the guys.
Having lost track of time as everyone chatted back and forth with her about wrestling, indy groups, Regal and NXT, it was 45 minutes and many whiskeys later when Dolph sat down on the arm of her sofa chair.
"So what's the story with you and Ambrose?" Dolph asked her.
Cringing internally, she caught the way some of the guys narrowed their eyes at Dolph, clearly disapproving of the question.
"What do you mean?" she said evasively.
"Well, I think everyone knows the story with you and Orton. He didn't exactly hide anything. He has a thing for you, plain and simple, and I think everyone has figured out you don't return those feelings" Dolph said with a surprising amount of insight.
"What does this have to do with Dean?" she asked. Tipping her glass all the way back, she slipped an ice cube into her mouth and crunched on it.
"Come on, Har. He's originally from Cincinnati, and, coincidentally, it was rumored a known wrestler saved you from that horrible match, he saved you from Orton at the banquet, he lives here in this city where you just happen to show up" Dolph said, his tone leading and suggestive.
"I don't know what you're talking about. What's next? You'll start talking about how The Illuminati owns WWE and this is all part of a greater mind control conspiracy?" Harlan said sarcastically.
The men laughed and the atmosphere lost some of the tension. Dolph looked at her, his eyes scanning her face for a hint of anything he could read into. Shrugging, he leaned down and whispered into her ear.
"I really don't care, alright? I like to have fun, but I prefer not having angry US champs on my heels" he said.
Biting her lip, she stood up from the sofa chair. For a split second, she thought she would lose her balance. She hadn't realized how much she'd had to drink while she had been sitting, but getting to her feet was a serious reality check. She wasn't wasted or anything, but she was well beyond buzzed.
Dolph got to his feet and wrapped his arm around her waist once again. He pulled her in close to him and whispered into her ear.
"Come back to my room. I know you want to" he said, his breath warming her ear.
"I shouldn't" she whispered back.
"You're not denying it then. You do want to" he said with a quiet laugh.
Not giving her a chance to speak, he picked up her purse from the sofa chair and walked her out of the VIP room. With an anxious feeling in the pit of her stomach, she followed him out.
Holy fucking shit...
She watched him settle up their bills at the bar as the internal debate continued. She knew this was nothing but a knee jerk reaction. She wanted to feel like she was in control, and with Dolph, she knew exactly what she would be getting. She understood this, she was used to this.
"Ready?" he asked her. She nodded her head and they walked out of the lounge. He unlocked the car and held the door open for her. As she was about to climb into his car, she caught movement from the corner of her eye. On the opposite end of the parking lot, there was an SUV racing in through the alternate entrance.
"Nicholas, you should go" she said urgently, stepping away from his car. He looked back towards where she was looking, confusion on his face.
"What?" he asked her.
"Trust me. Just go" she said again, closing the passenger door and pushing him towards the front end of his car.
Looking completely lost, Dolph walked to the driver's side door and called out to her.
"Can I text you? Make sure everything's okay?" he asked her.
"Sure, that's fine, just go already!" she shouted.
She was relieved to hear him start the car just as the SUV screeched to a halt a few spaces away from them.
Dolph drive away as Dean jumped out of his SUV. Glaring at the car, he watched it as it left the parking lot. Turning, he trained his intense blue eyes on Harlan and walked towards her. His walk was casual and calm, but his eyes told her a different story.
"What's the matter? Did I scare off your new friend?" he asked her in a mocking tone.
"How did you even know I was here?" she asked him, doing her best to ignore his tone.
"A little straight-edged bird told me. I guess it's his way of apologizing for kicking the shit out of my head and shoulders" Dean said with a smirk.
Harlan resisted the urge to scoff and roll her eyes.
"Can we go now? Please?" she asked him, looking away from him.
"Whatever you want, sweetheart" he said, turning back to walk towards his SUV. Without even waiting for her, he climbed into the idling car.
Harlan made her way to his car, practically dragging her feet. She climbed in, and he wasted no time in driving away.
The ride was uncomfortable; she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, he had seen her almost getting into Dolph's car. Fidgeting with the drawstrings on Punk's hoodie, she debated being the one to bring it up. Just as she was about to speak, he beat her to it.
"You were going to go back to his room, weren't you?" he said quietly.
Harlan's mouth opened and closed several times, but nothing came out. She couldn't bring herself to deny it, but she didn't want to admit it out loud either.
"Well played, princess. You had me waiting at home, to have this supposedly important chat you've been going on about, meanwhile, you were seconds away from climbing into Ziggler's car" he said, his aggressive tone making her flinch.
"It didn't mean anything!" she exclaimed. Her stomach churned and her head had developed a dull ache.
"Which one, me or him?" he snapped.
"Him! Nothing happened, and if it had, it wouldn't have meant a single thing" she said. She glanced at him but he didn't turn to look at her. He kept his face and eyes glued to the road.
Silence filled the car as he drove on. Finally, they reached Amarillo St. He killed the engine once he had reached his driveway. The engine made odd little creaky and dinging noises as it cooled down. Her whole body felt rigid and she was afraid to make a sound, much less move. He sat there, staring straight ahead, his knuckles pale with the amount of force he was using to grip the steering wheel. She jumped in her seat when he finally moved, and her heart sank when she caught his words.
"Fuck this" he mumbled as he climbed out of the car, slamming the door behind him.
She scrambled out of the car and ran after him, leaving her purse and her black flats in the car. The gravel bit into her bare feet, but she didn't even flinch. Reaching Dean, she reached out and grabbed his hand.
"Wait!" she said. She gripped him even harder as he tried to break free from her grasp.
"What? Are we supposed to have that chat now?" he said, his tone beyond sarcastic.
"Yes, yes we are. Please, don't go. Talk to me" she pleaded.
He spun around; the suddenness of his movement caused her to release his hand and she backed up a few steps.
"Go on, finish your little speech. What are you going to say? Hmm?" he taunted.
Her head spun, and she grabbed her head with both hands.
"This isn't fair. You can't get this pissed at me, you really can't!" she exclaimed, frowning.
He shrugged and stood there waiting for her to speak. He looked like he didn't have a care in the world, like whatever she said wouldn't even matter.
"I'm scared, okay? I suck at this, and I don't even know what THIS is. I've never understood you. You're everywhere; you were at the Cincy ring, you were at the banquet, you were at the club, you were at the goddamn police station, and even though shit was messed you still showed up to the hospital. You were at my mother's funeral. Why, Dean? For fuck's sake, why?" she yelled at him, angrily.
He kept his arms crossed, but the look in his eyes softened. With a completely controlled face, he took a breath and answered her.
"I don't know, I really don't. I just can't help it" he said.
"See? What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?" she said, looking away as she ran her hands through her long hair.
"What do you want me to say?" he said. She looked up, the annoyed tone of his voice piqued her interest. He had uncrossed his arms but he now had his hands shoved into his pockets. He was frowning, and it looked like he was fighting to stay calm.
"I want you to tell me you're scared too, or that you're not. I want you to tell me what you want from me, or that you don't want anything at all. Tell me something, anything, because I can't deal with this constant uncertainty and mystery!" she said, wringing her hands anxiously.
"You want me to tell you something?" he said angrily. Without waiting for her to speak, he strode forward and grabbed her wrists in his hands. He pushed her back until she was leaning against the hood of his car. He pressed himself against her and he leaned down to whisper into her ear.
"I can't stand the idea of you being in that bleach blonde grease-ball's room. I can't stand the idea of not being able to touch every inch of your body whenever I want" he growled into her ear.
She gasped at the intensity of his words. Pulling back from her, he looked down at her. The look in his eyes brought a shiver down her spine.
"Don't ask me to explain this, because I don't know what the hell it is, but since that day in Cincinnati, I had to be around you. I had to know you"
"So what does this mean?" she asked with a shaky voice.
With his hands around her wrists, he guided her arms up until they rested around his neck. Pressing himself against her once again, he leaned down and kissed her neck. She sighed contentedly, gasping when he bit her earlobe.
"I don't know what it fucking means, but I want you" he whispered, his breath tickling her ear.
Her stomach fluttered and her whole body seemed to tingle with a rush of heat.
"Let's go inside, please" she pleaded, breathlessly.
She slipped a hand into one of his and he led her back towards the house. Quickly and quietly he opened the door and let her in, closing it gently behind them.
A/N: Yeah, I'm definitely cutting it off right here. Tee-hee. Sorry, sorry. Okay, so, list of names: Joseph (Curtis Axel), Curtis (Fandango), John (Cena), Alberto (Del Rio), Claudio (Cesaro), Stuart (Wade Barrett), Kofi (Kingston) and Michael (The Miz). Weeeeeell, you know the drill. R&R! :)