Chapter Twenty-Six Disclaimer: Please use this as a reference to this and all future chapters and stories. This is a mature fan fiction, intended for readers of a mature age. It contains coarse language, adult situations, and other goodies that are or may not be suitable for those who are not at least sixteen years of age. I do not own any WWE Superstar, nor anyone employed by World Wrestling Entertainment, or any personality from Impact Wrestling that exists in real life. If you see someone in this story that you may recognize, I do not own them; they are not my property. All those who are mentioned in this story who you do not recognize in real life are used with their permission, and their permission only. I only own Krystle, or "Krys", as she is referred to by everyone around her, and those in her family. I make no claims to anyone else, as they own themselves and are the professional property of their respective companies. This is simply entertainment of the literary kind; please do not attempt to take this seriously. Thank you in advance.
Matt gritted his teeth as he hit Interstate 95 to head to Philadelphia. The thought of someone stalking his fiancée, possibly putting her and their son in danger, sent a streak of white-hot fury coursing through his veins. Matt normally wasn't the type of man to be jealous that his significant other received gifts from fans—in fact, they had all thought it was very generous of their fans to show their appreciation for them by sending gifts—the fact that someone had sent roses to Krys' address instead of to WWE Headquarters, especially during such a tense time, was enough to set him on edge.
First had been the lingerie, which Krys had assumed had been from Matt, which caused an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Next had come the roses. He wasn't sure if Krys knew about the flowers, but if someone knew her personal address, he was sure more gifts were likely to show up at her home, and from that point, who knew what could or would happen. He wasn't going to gamble with the lives of his fiancée and their son, or her mother's and brother's lives at that.
It was well past dark by the time he saw the Philadelphia skyline as he entered the city, passing the South Philadelphia Sports Complex. As he sped pass the arenas and stadiums, he briefly remembered Krys watching the demolition of Veterans Stadium two years earlier, watching as she cried as the legendary stadium imploded to make way for a newer stadium, and telling him about all the memories she'd had as a child going to Phillies games with her mother at the Vet. A small smile came to his face as he passed by the stadiums, remembering how Krys would always stare lovingly at the complex whenever they drove through the city on their way to Krys' home, or on their way out of the city, how she would promise him the night she'd accepted his proposal that she would take him and Cameron to the Art Museum to see the famed Rocky statue as a family, then to the Declaration House and to see the Liberty Bell. A brief chuckle passed his lips as he thought of the light that brightened in her eyes whenever she talked about her hometown.
A big city girl to her very core, Krys was always vocal about how much she loved her hometown. From the food to the culture, to the sheer brutal honesty of the people, she was a Philly girl to the core and regretted nothing about it. She took great pride in showing off her hometown and some of her old haunts from when she was younger, even taking Matt to her grandfather's house at one point, just to show him where she had her first kiss. Not normally a jealous man, Krys had simply laughed when Matt gave her a dirty look as she mentioned her first boyfriend and how embarrassed and nervous she'd been during the moments leading up to the kiss.
"Don't worry, I plan on kissing just one man for the rest of my life now," she'd said with a laugh as he continued to glare at her, not convinced. "Maybe even two."
"Oh, really?" Matt's eyes had narrowed even more, and Krys nearly doubled over with laughter. "What's so funny?"
"The two men I planned on kissing were you and Cam, dummy," she said, choking on her laughter. At that, a small smile formed on Matt's face as well, and soon he was joining her in her laughter, before lifting the hand that wore his ring and kissing it gently.
"I plan on holding you to that, bright eyes."
The sound of a car horn blaring behind him brought him back to the present, breaking him out of his thoughts. Blinking to clear his vision, he stepped on the gas and continued on, focusing on getting to his fiancée and son; he would be good to no one stuck in a hospital bed if he crashed his car.
"Matt, what on earth are you doing here?" Krys exclaimed, opening the door to see her fiancé standing on her doorstep. Matt's eyes were looking around everywhere, taking everything in; when his eyes finally settled on Krys, they softened, but then were sharp once more as he stepped over the threshold into the house. "It's almost one in the morning; what's going on?"
Matt's eyes narrowed once more as Krys closed the door behind him and locked it. "Your brother told me about the flowers, and I got worried. Are you guys okay? How about the baby?"
"We're all fine," she said back, following him into the living room area, where they both sat down on the sofa. "You really didn't need to drive all the way back up here from Cameron just to check on us."
"I'll be honest Krys, with all the shit that's been going down lately, and with how uneasy you've been, I really should have come back with you instead of going back home. If that prick is looking for you, or has someone following you, then I'd rather be where I can protect you."
A blush crept up her cheeks, and she gave him a soft smile. "I do appreciate it. I know we agreed to go to our respective places to get a little bit of distance before meeting back up on the road, but I really do feel better with you being here, Matt. I hate being the damsel in distress type of girl, but I really do like the thought of my knight in shining denim flying all the way up I-95 to make sure everything is okay here. That being said…" She stood to her feet, taking a deep breath as she did so, and turned to her fiancé, hands on her hips "…do you want anything to eat before bed? It just wouldn't be right to kick you back out after just getting here, and I made enough just in case someone wanted leftovers during the night."
Matt's stomach growled in response, and he looked up at her sheepishly as he stood to his feet, suddenly famished. "Yeah, if it's not too much trouble. I hightailed it up here so fast, I didn't even think about getting something to eat."
She scoffed, rolling her eyes at him as she headed to the kitchen, Matt trailing right behind her. "Yeah, like it's really going to be a pain in the ass to feed my man after taking an eight or so hour drive just to check on me and make sure my family and I are alright." She shook her head in mock exasperation as she pulled a few containers out of the refrigerator and pointed out to Matt the cabinet that held dishes. "Speaking of which," she said, scooping mashed potatoes onto a plate, "I was thinking of looking around at some bridal shops for a decent dress, and we should discuss bridesmaids and groomsmen, venue, if we're gonna do the whole cheesy affair and get a fifteen-tier cake and all that crap."
"Well, I'll leave the dresses up to you, because from what I've heard, seeing the bride in her dress before the wedding is bad luck, and from the way karma's been fucking with us these past few years, we need all the luck we can get." Matt chuckled as she loaded up his plate with grilled chicken breast and some sweet corn before popping it into the microwave. "As for a venue, I was thinking maybe it'd be nice to have it televised live on SmackDown, since we're both technically SmackDown talent, and have it in the ring."
"Don't you think something like that should be strictly private, instead of being televised for the whole world to see? Wouldn't it be better to just have a private ceremony, just us and our family and friends? I'm not quite sure how I feel, having something that personal and intimate and close to our hearts broadcast on national television."
"I see your point," Matt said, nodding. "I have an idea, though. How about we do both? Have a televised wedding for storyline purposes and the fans, and then have a private wedding just for us and ours?"
"Sounds good to me." Krys beamed at him. "I rather think it falls right in with us and how we've all been over the years; our lives are open books, especially yours," she said, shooting him a pointed look, which made him laugh, "and this would be a treat for the fans, giving them a real wedding instead of a storyline one that always has some fucked-up twist at the end. And afterwards, we get our own private ceremony, with all of our closest friends and family. No cameras, no fans, no dirt sheets. So that's out of the way. What about a venue? Should we have it in a hall? A church?"
"I'd like to say a church, or even City Hall."
She shrugged. "That part honestly doesn't matter to me. I've never really been the religious type growing up; that was always my mother's thing, not mine. So wherever we choose to have it is perfectly okay with me. Hell, we could have it in your backyard, and then have a cookout; your house is big enough!"
"That's an idea," Matt conceded with a nod of his head. "Honestly, the where doesn't matter to me, so much as my beautiful bride shows up ready to kill it the way she always does." He winked at her, and a blush crept across her face. With a sly grin on his face, he finished his dinner, then put the dishes in the sink. When he came back into the dining room, Krys was still sitting at the dining room table; she looked up at him with a shy smile. "You're so beautiful, do you know that? You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen, inside and out."
He offered his hand to help her out of her chair, and they moved through to the living room, turning off the lights as they went. Krys double checked to ensure that all the doors and windows were locked before heading up the stairs, where she found Matt in Cameron's room, readjusting the baby's blanket and smiling down at him. He chuckled quietly to himself when the silence was broken by a rather loud and unladylike yawn from his fiancée.
Chuckling again, he turned to face Krys. "Tired?"
"Well, I was headed to bed, when a certain someone decided to show up at my door at one in the morning," Krys shot back with a withering look. "Any idea who that could've been, by any chance?"
"Well, whoever it was must have been a very concerned and loving boyfriend, wanting to ensure his fiancée's and son's safety," Matt said back mildly, checking to make sure the baby monitor was turned on before following Krys out of Cameron's room to her room. "I mean, who wouldn't love the fact that their fiancé cared enough to make an eight hour drive to make sure that she and their baby were okay and tucked in safely?"
"Alright, smartass," Krys said, pausing in her doorway to shove him away. With a smirk, Matt followed, closing the door behind him.
"I'm getting a little sick and tired of your pitiful little obsession with that whore," Mark snarled, downing a shot of whiskey in a dank little hotel room. "It's going to get you your ass handed to you. And I'm not talking about by me."
His companion simply chuckled in response, before snatching the bottle of whiskey from the table, ignoring the glower that Mark sent him in response. "Don't be pissy at me because you can't get to your precious Kira, lad," he said cheerfully, taking a generous swig of the dark-colored drink and wiping his mouth, grimacing in distaste. "American horse piss," he grumbled, setting it back down on the table. "Ugh, what I wouldn't give for a taste of genuine Scottish whiskey. Real stuff that makes a man out of you, not that disgusting swill."
"If you don't like it, you don't have to drink it," Mark snapped, snatching the bottle and pouring himself another glass. "Besides, it's not like I can go out and get a bottle of the good stuff; I'm pretty much confined to shitty motel rooms. I'm fully expecting to find a dead hooker in the tub with her organs cut out one of these days."
The other man laughed in dark amusement, taking a seat on the bed and stretching out, folding his arms out behind his head and closing his eyes. "Have you ever once thought about leaving the country? Just hopping on a barge or something to another country, and leave all this shit behind? Maybe things will be better for you once you get some distance between you and that girl."
"That girl is my reason for living," Mark snarled. "She's been brainwashed by that stupid fuck Randy Orton and that stupid bitch, Krys."
"Watch yourself, Jindrak," the other man warned softly, his eyes glinting dangerously.
"I don't get what you find so fascinating about her," Jindrak sneered. "She's a Hardy whore. You know she fucked both Matt and Jeff, probably at the same time. What do you think she'll find attractive about you, when she's got Hardy cock deep in her taint"—
Before Mark could finish his next taunt, he found himself lifted in the air and slammed against the wall, nose to nose with the other man, his dark eyes boring into his furiously. "I would choose your words more carefully next time, my friend," he snarled, his words no longer soft, his natural rugged burr coming through clearly, making his voice rough and steely, enough to send chills up and down Mark's spine. "You can say what you will about those Hardy Boyz; they're nothing to me. But you'll nay talk about my beauty that way. Remember, out of everyone who kept their mouths shut about you and Kira, she was the one who always got in your face and called you out for your bullshit. That's why you can't stand her. That's what I love about her. And if you keep disrespecting that goddess in my presence, I will bury you. Do you understand?"
For a moment, neither man breathed, each man's eyes boring into the other. Mark's were full of drunken anger and indignation, while the other man's eyes held a steely resolve within them. They had not been friends very long, but he had made it very clear when he agreed to help Jindrak that he would not dare to act upon any revenge against Krys that he was thinking of doing, not as long as he had anything to say in the matter.
Finally, Jindrak held up his hands in retreat. "I'm sorry. You know how I feel about her. It's the alcohol talking. It's just…so frustrating being so close to getting Kira back and away from that spineless manipulator, and yet, so far away that I can't touch her. I don't know where she is, none of my contacts have any information on her. You're my best shot at getting to her."
"Then you'd better start behaving better in my presence," the other man said mildly, releasing him. Jindrak breathed deeply, glaring at the man's back as he went back to the bed and stretched out once more, flipping on the TV and browsing through the channels until he found a replay of that episode's RAW, broadcast in Spanish. He paid no attention to the commentary; he was more focused on the action. He sat up as he saw Krys strut backstage with her Women's Championship, then her interaction with Victoria. He noted the change in the woman since she had won the championship from Lita at Survivor Series, watched her confidence return, along with a little bit of extra swagger in the way she carried herself. He stared, seemingly transfixed as she leveled Victoria with a wicked right to the brunette's jaw, then watched as she taunted the other woman before sauntering off. He licked his lips as he watched the wicked glint in her eyes before she left Victoria there, the confident, taunting smirk on her face, and had to focus to keep himself from getting hard right then and there.
In that moment, Mark Jindrak and his shitty little motel room faded from existence. All that existed was him and his goddess, his muse. Time was no consequence for him; he would have her in his own time. She would come to him. Her ferocity matched his own, and in time, she would be his. He would give Matt Hardy nothing but broken dreams when Krys realized that she was destined to be with a real man.
Soon. Everything would fall into place…
…Soon.
