Sabella McCann


It felt like hours before Jessa finally began to stir in her hospital bed. With a flutter of her eyes, they slowly opened to rest on Shane McMahon and I. Shane was still holding onto her hand. For the past two hours while we waited for her to wake up, Shane refused to leave her bedside. He's been holding himself responsible because he's the one who suggested the Jessa and Callie match be held inside a steel cage. Had she not hit her head and ended up here, I doubt he would be feeling so down.

She groaned, running a hand through her ruby hair. There was a nice lump on her forehead. She tensed up when she saw the paper bracelet around her right wrist. She looked at Shane, not Brock. I noticed that, and didn't find it all that odd, since Brock has been acting so strange lately.

"Congratulations, Champ," Shane teased with a laugh. Brock's face was stoic. He watched Jessa and Shane, his blue eyes sparkling with unspoken irritation. They narrowed. Shane didn't acknowledge Brock, keeping all of his attention on Jess. "How are you feeling?"

"My head hurts, and I'm at the hospital," Jess reminded him with a short laugh. She looked out the hospital window, into the darkness. "What time is it?"

"It's well after eleven," Natalie told her. "You've been out for a couple hours. A little longer than the doctors thought you would be. You hit your head pretty hard on the barricade."

"The doctor said the concussion is pretty severe," I added. Everyone nodded.

"It feels pretty severe," Jess conceded. There was a pause. She smirked. "So I won, did I?"

"That you did. Congratulations, Jessa," Kurt offered. He had insisted on riding in the ambulance with her. Everyone has been noticing how quickly things are deteriorating quickly between the two of them. Once inseparable, the air between them had become frostbitten. I'm not sure if it has anything to do with the fact that Kurt and I have been sleeping together, or the fact that Kurt is angry she's with Brock, but things aren't the same as they used to be between them. She doesn't even say his name when I'm around; I'll bet it's because she thinks it's awkward.

"Can I get you anything, Jess?" John asked. She nodded.

"I could really use some water. It feels like I swallowed sandpaper." John tapped Natalie on the shoulder. She nodded and he disappeared. Shane reached into his briefcase on the chair and pulled out the belt, placing it on Jessa's lap. Her name had yet to be attached to it. She grinned. "Wow," she said. "That's...that's really something."

"You deserve it," Shane told her. I looked at Brock. Why wasn't he saying anything? After all, it is his girlfriend lying in the hospital bed with a concussion and other injuries. Could the man be any colder, any more calloused? How could he not even congratulate her? I know Jess told Natalie that she regrets giving it up to Brock. It's too bad he's not doing anything to make her come around on that. With every day that passes, her distrust of him has been growing stronger. I know she cares about him a lot, so she's not sure about how to disentangle herself from him. It's clear with Jess: if there's no trust, there is nothing. Callie is the prime example of this philosophy. Their friendship will never be the same. If they ever somehow do make up, Jessa will never forget. She'll alwas be suspicious of Callie. She earned that.

John returned with a cup of water and handed it to Jess. "Thanks," she managed. John shot a dark look at Brock. Without words, he was pointing out that Brock should have been the one to ask, should have been the one to fetch the water. Jess and I locked eyes. It's as if all the men in the room are in on some kind of secret that we women can't be a part of. We can all sense it. Whatever their secret it, I know that Brock Lesnar is the subject.

"When can we expect you back," Kurt asked. Jess shrugged.

"Hopefully not too long. I mean, I did promise Torrie a shot at this."

"Always the noble one." Finally, Brock Lesnar speaks. And it has to be the words of a dick. Jess smirked.

"Well, you know me." She sighed. "Could someone get the nurse? I want to know if I can get the hell out of here. I have a nice, comfortable hotel bed waiting for me. No way do I want to spend the night here. This bed sucks." We laughed while Kurt went to retrieve a nurse.

We looked at each other, Adriana, Natalie and I. We were silently debating whether or not we should ask Jessa what crawled up Brock's ass. We decided prett quickly to just keep our mouths shut. Now was not the time, what with Jessa hurt.

The doctor entered the room with Kurt in tow. Despite Jessa's pleas and offers of bribery, the doctor decided that she should stay overnight for observation. Then he turned to us and announced that visiting hours were over, and we had to leave. Poor Jess looked so helpless and so depressed as we hugged her and said our goodbyes.

We separated out front. John left with Natalie. Shane called a cab and left when it arrived. Adriana and Rene left together, not even offering to give me a ride. I sighed. Kurt was standing a few inches away from me. "Come on, Bell. I'll give you a ride back."

"Thanks," I replied sheepishly. I followed him to the edge of the parking lot, where his rental truck was parked. He helped me inside, like a gentleman. He got into the driver's side and started up the truck. I was greeted with old-school Bruce Springsteen.

"How are things?" he asked as we drove out of the parking lot. The air between us was awkward.

"Fine. How about with you?"

"All right." There was a pause. "Bell..."

"Don't." I stared out the window. Anything to avoid looking at him.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you, Sabella. I don't know what happened after, but whatever it was, I'm sorry."

"Don't even worry about it." He turned at the lights. "Where are you staying?"

"Just up the road here." I sighed. "Thanks for the ride."

"Don't mention it." The two of us fell silent again. "If you aren't doing anything, Bell..."

"No."

"You didn't let me finish."

"You don't have to." He turned the car into the nearest alley and killed the ignition. Now I looked at him. "What are you doing, Kurt?"

"I'm sorry, Bell. I don't know what more I can say to you outside of that." He exhaled. "What is it with you? I always hear that you're this no-strings attached kind of girl and now you're acting like a frosty bitch with me. What do you want from me?"

"What do I want from you? What do you want from me?" I shot back at him. "Are you conveniently forgetting how angry you were with me because you thought I told Jess about what happened between us? You didn't even care to let me defend myself. Not that I need to defend myself with you." I crossed my arms over my chest and swallowed my anger. "You are so infatuated and obsessed with Jessa Bolt that you don't care one iota for anyone else."

"That's not true..."

"I can walk from here," I cut him off. I opened the door to the truck, but he grabbed me, pulling me back into the truck. I turned to him. "Kurt -!" I brushed out of his grasp, but he grabbed me again. I struggled, but he pulled me close, planting his puffy lips against mine. His tongue entered my mouth swiftly, exploring. I pounded my closed fists against his chest, but he gripped me tightly, pulling me until I was sitting on his lap, my feet on m seat. I beat my fists as best I could against his chest before planting them and pushing my lips away from his.

"What the hell are you doing? I'm not some kind of whore," I gasped angrily, but he had me losing my restraint fast. He responded by moving his hands up my dress, bunching it up around my waist. His hands worked clumsily at my bra as his lips found mine again. I wish I could say I was worried about the idea of the two of us getting caught, but I didn't care. As angry and as hurt and as irritated as I am with Kurt Angle, my body was betraying me in the worst kind of way. Just like it always does.

"I never said you were..." Kurt trailed off as his lips trailed down my neck, moving just below my earlobe. It was a real button-pusher of a spot for me, and he knew it. I readjusted m body. "Sabella, I'm..." He didn't get a chance to say anything more. I silenced him by placing my lips over his and working my tongue against his. I readjusted him until I was straddling him. Our kiss was deep and passionate, his hands exploring my skin, leaving goose pimples everywhere his fingers moved. My hands reached for his zipper and he groaned against my mouth. After a few moments of more awkward maneuvering, I lowered myself onto him and took a moment to groan, my head burrowing into his neck. "Jesus, Sabella..." he whispered, gripping my hips roughly. After a few moments we began to move together towards something that left me gasping and sobbing, a total mess in his arms. I held onto Kurt like my life depended on it.

When our brief - yet satisfying - encounter ended, I climbed off him and back into the passenger's seat, readjusting my dress and smoothing out my hair. There was that familiar air of awkwardness between us again. "I don't even know what to say about what just happened," Kurt said. I sighed.

"Just don't say anything." I picked up my purse off the floor. Kurt wordlessly closed the door and drove me the rest of the way to my hotel. I couldn't even look at him. What is he trying to do to me?