Chapter 37

The feeling of her soft skin against his fingers refused to leave Bray's mind. He missed Anisa fiercely, wishing there was something he could do to make amends. Why couldn't she choose him? Why did it have to be Ambrose? Bray didn't understand it. They had a connection, even if it was one night of unbridled passion. She said his name that night, not Ambrose. The dick hurt her and in turn she came to Bray with open arms, surrendering to him asking to take the pain Ambrose caused her away. Bray longed to be with her again, to have her writhe beneath him and hear her sweet voice cry out his name in the throes of passion. However, there was one obstacle in his way Bray didn't know how to remove without suffering severe consequences.

The Deadman.

Everything Mark had done up to this point was to get Anisa back. The man was married; did Mark really think Michelle would allow him to screw both her and Anisa at the same time? The man was deluded, psychotic and not in his right frame of mind. Bray thought about all the ways he could rid Anisa of Mark, but none of them played well in his favor. Erick and Luke were completely devoted to Mark and had done his bidding with Ryanne Orton and Punk's new squeeze, Melanie. So that was another problem Bray had to take care of since the men who once followed him were no longer his to command. They were still called the Wyatt Family, but Bray didn't feel part of it anymore.

There had to be a way to reach Anisa, to make her see the truth and realize Ambrose was no good for her. She deserved better, a man who would worship her both in and out of the bedroom instead of the other way around. Love was a fickle emotion and downright dangerous because it blinded even the smartest people in the world. He had to get her away from Ambrose somehow long enough to make Anisa see her error in judgment, in choice. But how? How could he when she was protected by so many people? Ambrose, her brother Punk, Randy Orton, the Samoan idiot Reigns and now apparently Barrett had joined the fray. It was close to impossible to get near Anisa at this point, but Bray had to do it somehow, someway before he lost her forever.

Bray had the weekend to come up with a plan and so far, nothing came to mind. He was frustrated, especially after finding out Ambrose had moved to Atlanta into Anisa's house. Now they were shacking up together and it would only be a matter of time before she wound up pregnant. Bray couldn't let it happen, not unless it was his child she carried. Squeezing the beer can tightly, Bray swallowed the rest of it down and tossed it behind him in the nearby trashcan, rising to his feet. Just as he headed outside to his vehicle to go buy some more beer at the local store, his cell phone rang and the name flashing on the caller ID made his blood run cold.

What did Calaway want now?

"Mark…"

"Shut up."

Michelle clamped her mouth shut and could only stare at the two packages on their kitchen table. She finally came back from Florida with their daughter to spend some time with her husband. They had a night full of passion and sated their sexual desire for the time being. Michelle had woken up to an empty bed with Mark nowhere in sight and ventured downstairs to see where he'd ventured off to. It was no surprise to find him in the garage tinkering with his prized motorcycles. Though he didn't have nearly as many as before with all the auctions he'd participated in, giving away his prized possessions for good causes.

Not again. He didn't want to open the packages. The tape recorder of a baby crying followed by a flat line and pictures of dead fetuses was too much. Mark had nightmares of Michelle giving birth, only for the baby to die and look like one of those dead fetuses. He burned every single picture, but the image of them still seared his memory. Now he received two more packages with no return address on them, just his. These mind games had to stop before Mark ended up having a nervous breakdown and completely snapped.

"Give me the knife." He ordered his wife, acidic eyes never leaving the packages on his kitchen island and felt the cool handle rest in his hand.

Michelle could only watch the first box open and felt sick to her stomach at the object Mark pulled out. "What the fuck is that?" She demanded, eyes wide and covered her mouth with her hand at how sickly her husband looked.

A dark purple baby onesie with the phrase 'I Love Daddy' embroidered on the front in white lettering lay in Mark's shaking hands. It was ripped and had red substance splattered all over it, signifying blood. Michelle tried hiding a gasp of horror with a hand over her mouth, feeling incredibly nauseous. This is what her husband had yelled at her about over the phone, demanding to know if she was screwing with him. Michelle would never do something so heinous and cruel, especially with how much pride Mark had being a father.

"Mark, this is…"

"Fuckin' sick, I know." He finished his wife's statement and set the onesie down on the table, suddenly wanting to dip his hands in scalding hot water. "Somethin' tells me the other package won't be any better. You don't have to stay in here, Shelly."

Michelle refused to leave her husband and shook her head. "Open the other one."

Baby blocks. They were glued to a wooden platform and spelled out 'YOUR MOVE'. Michelle was mortified while Mark simply stood there with a reddened face, his anger level rising vastly. It was a clear message and one Mark would not take lightly or brush off. Michelle could only gape at the blocks and squealed when Mark hurled it across the kitchen, splitting it directly down the middle. The blocks rolled off the broken platform and stopped at Michelle feet, making her squeal again kicking them across the room. Mark rolled his eyes and shoved Michelle out of the kitchen, gritting his teeth at her incessant bickering about calling the police to report this.

"MICHELLE!" He finally roared, stopping her in mid-rant and guided her none too gently to the stairs. "Let me handle this. Just go upstairs and relax."

"But…"

"NOW!"

Michelle scampered up the stairs, obeying her irate husband.

Why couldn't the stupid bitch listen for 3 seconds? Mark growled, rolling his eyes and stalked out to his garage to make a phone call. He waited until Bray answered and explained the packages he received that day.

"I want whoever is doin' this found, Bray. My wife just saw what I've been dealin' with and it needs to come to an end. Find the asshole and bring them to me, dead or alive." Mark ordered in a low deadly voice, ending the call abruptly and went upstairs to make sure Michelle hadn't turned hysterical.

Bray shook his head and tossed his cell phone to the side, refusing to look for the culprit sending these packages to Mark. Served him right. He was getting a taste of his own medicine. Of course, he would have to call Erick and Luke to tell them the orders, but Bray would do it on his terms. Smirking, he stepped out on his back patio deck and turned around, extending his arms before falling back into the cool awaiting pool.

Butterflies flapped wildly in Mia's stomach while she got ready to go out to dinner with her mother and fiancé. It would be the first time they met face to face and she hoped Joe behaved himself as promised. He'd been the one to suggest doing this, so they left Atlanta the next day to fly back to Pensacola. Naturally, Mia's mother was skeptical about the dinner meeting and Mia assured her everything would be fine. If she truly wanted to be in Mia's life, Joe came with the package and she had to respect and accept it.

"It's gonna be fine, baby girl. I promise." Joe reassured her, wrapping his arms around her waist pressing a soft kiss to her neck. "And you look beautiful tonight."

Mia wore a simple black skirt that went to her knees and a short sleeved sheer dark blue top with a black camisole beneath, buttoned up. Joe had a dark blue polo shirt and black jeans on with black shoes, his raven haired pulled back in a sleek tail at the nape of his neck. He trimmed his goatee and shaved the scruff off, wanting to look clean-cut meeting his future mother-in-law for the first time.

"You look great too." She turned around, accepting a soft kiss and stroked his smooth cheek with the back of her hand. "Come on, let's get this over with."

Joe chuckled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and guided Mia out to the car, opening the door for her. "Don't make it sound like we're being lead to the gallows."

"Sorry." Mia cracked a hesitant smile, though it didn't reach her apprehensive brown eyes.

A few minutes later, they were on their way to the restaurant Maline Malik would meet them for dinner. It was a small local bistro that served Italian and Mexican food, but had other options available too. Joe pulled up into a nearby parking spot and helped Mia down from the huge truck, walking hand-in-hand with her inside. Their reservation was ready to be fulfilled and just as Joe pulled Mia's chair out for her to sit down, a throat cleared behind them. Maline stood before her daughter and Joseph Anoa'i, brown eyes mirror images of Mia's. She was Indian, beautiful and Joe knew instantly where Mia inherited her looks from.

"Mom." Mia greeted her with a loving embrace and finally turned to face Joe with a hesitant smile. "Joe, I'd like you to meet my mother – Maline Malik. Mom, this is the love of my life and future husband, Joseph Anoa'i."

Maline stepped forward, extending her hand with a soft smile. "Hello Joe, it's finally nice to meet you." She meant it, especially with all the gushing her daughter did during their reunion.

It was hard to stay angry at this woman, her kind eyes and smile warming Joe's heart. "Nice to meet you too, ma'am." He rumbled politely, shaking her hand and guided both of them to sit down, pulling out Mia's chair and then Maline's before taking his own beside his fiancée.

Dinner went without any problems or arguments, everyone enjoying themselves discussing the upcoming prenuptials. It did Joe's heart and frame of mind good to see Mia's beautiful smile on her face, wanting it permanently implanted. It made her twice as beautiful when she smiled and there wasn't much to be happy about with everything happening. Mia excused herself to use the restroom, leaving Joe alone with her mother. This was Joe's only opportunity to say what he needed in order to move forward, determined grey eyes locking on Maline.

"There's one thing I need to say and I hope you don't think I'm being disrespectful."

Maline expected this and set her fork down on the plate, giving Joe her undivided attention. "Go ahead, Joe. Say what you have to." Her tone was full of understanding.

"Mia told me the reason why you disowned her all those months ago and I'm fine with it. But since I am marrying her and she will be my wife and future mother of my children, that makes me extremely protective. So I'm only saying this once: If you hurt Mia in any way, shape or form again, you'll answer to me and won't like what happens." Joe meant every word he said, refusing to back down from the older Indian woman. "I love her enough to protect her from anyone, even her own flesh and blood."

Maline's heart swelled with love and admiration for this incredible man who made her daughter exceedingly happy. "I appreciate your honesty, Joe. And I give my word to you now, I will never hurt my daughter again. I made that mistake once and nearly lost her. I won't do it again."

"Good, then welcome to the family." Joe raised his glass of wine and Maline did the same, both of them toasting each other to the future.

From the moment Ryanne stepped foot inside her St. Louis home, Randy sent her to bed and refused to let her do anything. Her body had gone through a massive amount of stress recently and Ryanne had to relax completely if she planned on making it to full term with their baby boy. Randy had a plan, hearing his wife bellowing through the intercom and pressed the button to respond.

"Hold your horses, sweetheart. I'll be up there in a minute!"

Finishing the preparations for her lunch, Randy lifted the tray from the kitchen counter and headed upstairs to their master bedroom. Ryanne laid in bed pouting, hating being bedridden, but she understood why Randy was doing it. Erick Rowan had scared her and luckily she hadn't gone into premature labor, but the doctors said her stress level had to lower immediately or she would. Tapping at the door, Randy pushed it open and Ryanne's emerald eyes shot open, her jaw dropping to the bedding.

"Lunch has arrived, beautiful." Randy announced, walking over and set the tray down on the nightstand, dropping a soft kiss to her shocked lips.

"W-What are you wearing?"

Randy smirked, slowly turning around until she could see his bare muscular toned backside. "You don't like it?" He asked, sticking his bottom lip out and Ryanne suddenly burst out laughing at her husband. "Oh great, you're laughing at me now."

Laughter was the best medicine and Randy nailed it with what he currently had on. It was her white and blue striped apron and that's ALL he had on. So his junk was covered, but Ryanne could clearly see the outline of his dick through it. She reached out, smacking his backside and laughed harder when he carefully pounced on her, raining kisses all over her face. It was moments like these Ryanne cherished most with her husband. He always knew what to do and say to make her feel better, even at her worst. There was no fear to make himself look like a clown if it meant making her happy and bring out her incredible smile.

"You are such a goofball." Ryanne finally calmed down enough to talk, kissing the tip of his nose and forehead before his mouth. "I love you so much."

"I love you too and as long as I'm your goofball, nothing else matters." Randy rubbed his nose against hers, hissing out when she reached down to squeeze his bare cheek and growled. "Woman, stop teasing me."

"What are you gonna do if I don't?" Ryanne challenged in a mumble against his mouth, stroking his strong broad shoulders and squeezed his other cheek.

Ripping the apron off, Randy delved under the sheet and showed his wife instead of telling her, both of them enjoying being alone together.