Monday morning again arrived too soon for Alexa Bliss' liking. This time, unlike last week, her opened to the sight of Bryn's ceiling fan. After a moment, her would-be roommate's tiny head peeked over the side of her twin mattress to gaze down at her cousin.
"Hi Lexi," Brynlee murmured softly. "Did you have another nightmare?"
Alexa shook her head, still finding her bearings. "Not exactly. I just got really sad and didn't want to sleep in the basement by myself."
Brynlee nodded knowingly. "It's scary down there."
Alexa giggled, rising to her feet slowly. "It can be, huh?"
The little girl continued to nod. Alexa, always happy to spend time with her Fifth grade housemate, extended her hand to lead Bryn downstairs to breakfast.
"C'mon, pumpkin," Alexa brightly called to the curly haired little girl across from her. "Let's get you some breakfast, then I have to get ready for school."
Brynlee giggled, delighted at the attention. She smiled brightly and gleefully followed Alexa down the stairs.
What awaited the pair of juveniles downstairs shocked both of them wide awake. John Cena, who ordinarily set all the other house residents at ease with his laid back morning demeanor, was stomping around the kitchen, his apparent purpose written grimly across his face. Aunt Mickie, in contrast, was trying to calm her husband down, to no avail.
"Morning, girls," Mickie called, in an attempt to calm John down as well as greeting her two oldest residents.
"What's going on, Mickie?" Alexa asked, a look of concern beginning to spread over her unblemished face.
Aunt Mickie looked over at John, who shrugged, as if he was undecided as to the potential harm done in filling Alexa in on the source of his stress.
The big man, already in his uniform, exhaled deeply, before beginning. "I guess there's no point in not telling you, since you're gonna hear it the second you get to school, I'm guessing."
As he spoke, Alexa's aunt led her oldest daughter into the living room from the kitchen, promising her "cartoons and breakfast," while secretly hoping to shield Brynlee from the conversation she knew the two were about to have.
"What's up, Uncle John?" Alexa asked, more cautiously than she intended.
"Uh," John hesitated, formulating his next sentences carefully. "About zero two-" he chuckled dryly, then corrected himself. "About two this morning a call came in about a car on fire over near Godwinn Farm. A couple of our guys responded, thinking it was just some kids up to some nonsense." He stopped here, clearing his throat and trying to steel back emotions that scared Alexa.
"What, Uncle John?"
"When they did a search of the car and the surrounding areas, they found…" Cena exhaled deeply again, trying not to let what he'd heard and seen affect him. "They found two bodies in the trunk. One of whom was a student at Blue River."
Alexa's stomach fell to the floor. Steadying herself on the kitchen table, the young woman processed this slowly. "Wh-Who was it, Uncle John?"
John Cena glanced down at the worn laminate covering the kitchen floor. "Do you know a Natalya Neidhart?"
Alexa attempted to answer vocally, but the words escaped her. She nodded, avoiding eye contact.
"I met her a couple times. We talked for a few minutes Friday night, but I haven't really gotten to know anyone… other than Bayley, Dana and Dean."
John nodded. "Did you see her at the drive-in last night? A couple of people we've talked to so far say she bought concessions at the movie around Nine."
Alexa pondered this a moment, before remembering a conversation she'd had the day before. "I didn't see her, but I know she'd broken up with Dean's friend Roman on Saturday. I saw Roman last night and he looked upset. He doesn't seem like the type that would do something like that, but I don't really know him."
Cena nodded for what felt like the millionth time already that day. "'Roman Reigns' is the name we've heard too."
"I really don't think he's violent. He was all smiles Friday night."
John grinned, though there was really no humor in it. "He wasn't heartbroken Friday night." The musclebound Deputy turned his massive frame back to the counter, taking a giant bite of whatever pastry he'd brought home from the Sheriff's Office.
"Look," Cena continued, "I promise to keep your name out of anything that gets said. You're not a cooperating witness. You're a high school Junior that lives in my house who saw a friend. I'll even pretend not to know you if we have to come up there. Fair enough?"
Alexa nodded. "Thanks, Uncle John. You can say 'hi' if you see me at school. Everyone knows I live with you and Mickie. If I hear anything today I'll try to discreetly let you or another Deputy know. Just… don't make me a snitch, okay?"
John chuckled a bit. "Lexi, I promise you your name will be nowhere near this. In fact, as far as I'm concerned, you didn't give me any information we didn't already have."
Alexa smiled gratefully, nodded, then set about fixing a quick breakfast. In a matter of a few seconds, her egg whites were prepared and her daily routine once again took over.
….
By the time the morning bell rang to signify school being let in, word was out. Natalya Neidhart had met an ugly and undignified end. And, as if on cue, the Gwinnett County Sheriff's Department had squad cars surrounding the entire property of Blue River High School.
For Alexa Bliss, the first two periods of the day went by as they usually did; without event. She liked both of her teachers, and she had at least one friend in both classes, and so there was no real drama, though the tension in the air was palpable.
Eventually, Mrs. McMichael did manage to get her class to focus long enough to sing for twenty minutes or so. And sing they did. Beautifully. Alexa was even entertaining the notion that the gossip might be just that until her Uncle John, along with three other uniformed officers, strode through the door resolutely.
"Debra McMichael?"
The chorus teacher nodded her affirmation. "Can I help you, deputies?"
The man to the left of John nodded. "We're looking for Roman Reigns. We have some questions."
Behind and to the left of Alexa, Roman stood cautiously from his seat.
"Four cops, really?" Dean asked incredulously from the row in front of his best friend. "For 'questions?'"
"Sit down, Mister Ambrose," boomed a voice from behind the deputies. The quartet of officers split in between the middle two and Assistant Principal Stephanie McMahon Helmsley strode into the rehearsal space occupied by the fifty or so youths. She fixed her gaze on Dean momentarily, before addressing the entire class.
"These deputies are here investigating the death of Natalya Neidhart and her boyfriend, who I understand might have also gone to school here. If they pull you out of class, you are to go with them. They cannot make you talk to them without a parent present." Her eyes darted over to Roman, hoping he was receiving the message she was sending him subliminally. "For security and classroom disruption reasons, however, we do ask that you accompany them. Ms. Runnels in the front office or I will be happy to contact your parents if you need us to. I repeat; you do not have to say anything to these deputies without a parent or lawyer present."
Though it galled Dean to no end to admit it, Mrs. McMahon-Helmsley had done them a great service by telling the students their rights. She could be cold and shrill, but deep down, Dean would begrudgingly admit that she cared for the thousand or so adolescents in her care, even if she didn't always appear that way.
Deputy Cena, for his part, hadn't wanted to go down to the classroom to collect Reigns. He'd pleaded with his superior to allow the school's administration to do their job; call Reigns out of class and have the deputies escort him to the station from there. But Sheriff John Laurinaitis was having none of that. Blue River was a safe town. A quiet town. And the prevailing thought amongst law enforcement personnel was to get to the bottom of these killings quickly, before national media outlets ran with the story. Laurinaitis also wanted to send the message that his department was taking these slayings seriously, and there was no better way to do that, in his opinion, than public arrests.
John took Roman by the crook of his elbow as the boy made his way to the cluster of grownups. A couple of the deputies had wanted to handcuff the giant Samoan, stating a fear for their well-being that Cena didn't think was legitimate. He'd promised his two co-workers that he personally would escort Roman both to the squad car and then from the car to the Sheriff's Office.
After a moment, the convoy of humanity led Roman from the rehearsal space, leaving a stunned bunch of students, as well as their teacher, who was completely unprepared to address an event so monumental as that one.
As Deputy Cena led Roman out of the Fine Arts hallway and into the main thoroughfare, Stephanie McMahon-Helmsley kept a steady stream of instructive chatter going, both to make sure Roman knew all his options and to keep herself from thinking about the potential ramifications of one of her students murdering another.
"...I called your dad as soon as the deputies showed up. He said he's getting his lawyer to meet him at the Sheriff's Office. He said not to say a word until they get there."
Deputy Cena nodded. In his heart of hearts, he didn't believe a kid like Roman, who he'd met several times before, could commit the heinous crime perpetrated upon Natalya and Tyson. John believed that under the right circumstance, anyone could potentially kill, but that to end lives in a manner as callous as the crime scene appeared to bear out took a special kind of twisted evil.
Sensing a break in McMahon-Helmsley's monologue, Cena took a minute to address Roman as the party moved through the school's front doors.
"Your principal is right. Don't say anything until your dad or lawyer gets to the office. I really don't think you killed two people. We just want to make sure your alibi checks out so we can clear you as a suspect."
Roman nodded, then allowed Deputy Cena to seat him in the back of the brown and tan Sheriff's squad cruiser. Cena waited for his front seat passenger, a big man with a nameplate on his uniform shirt that read "Kennedy," and threw the car into gear, stealing away from the high school before a big crowd could gather or pictures could be taken.
….
Roman didn't completely keep his promise to his Vice-Principal. He didn't stay completely silent. Deputy Cena had assumed his detainee was hungry, having missed lunch, and offered him a ChikFilA sandwich, which Roman readily accepted. They made small talk for a few minutes about football, and his classes, but the subject of the events of the previous evening wasn't broached. It wasn't until Sheriff Laurinaitis entered the interrogation room and attempted to ask Roman questions about the murder that Roman clammed up.
After close to a half hour of awkward silence, the Interrogation Room door opened again and Sika Reigns sauntered through, turning his body slightly to fit his abnormally wide frame through the doorway. Behind him was the attorney he'd done business with for almost two decades; Paul Heyman.
"Back away from my client, please," Heyman began, an air of authority seeping through his businesslike tone.
"Easy, Mr. Heyman," Laurinaitis began, clearly overwhelmed by the presence of the cunning attorney.
"I'll be easy when I am certain my client's Constitutional rights remain intact." He plunked himself down on the metal chair to the right of Roman, who looked as amused as he was relieved that his father had procured the services of such a legendarily skilled defense attorney. Sika took the seat across from Roman and slid it to the corner on Roman's other side, leaving John Cena in the unusual and uncomfortable position of being outnumbered.
"Mr. Heyman," Cena began, in as even a tone as he'd used in some time, "we just want to hear what Roman was doing last night. If his alibi checks out, he'll never hear from us again. And I assure you that you can stop this interview at any time if you don't like where the conversation is heading."
The aforementioned Heyman cut his gaze to his juvenile client. "Roman, if you don't have ironclad responses to these questions, I want you not to answer. Is that clear?"
Roman nodded gruffly. There was part of him that wanted to get this out of the way. To prove his innocence before the town grew into a frenzy over the sensational murders. He shrugged, a signal that Cena took to mean that he was ready for the inquiry, and began his line of questions.
"Roman, we have you on surveillance tape at the drive-in arriving between 7:10 and 7:15. Is that what you remember?"
Roman nodded, without speaking. John furrowed his brow. "I need you to answer audibly for the record."
Reigns rolled his eyes. "Yeah. That sounds right. My friend Seth picked me up around 7. I would've driven myself but my brother has my car this weekend."
John nodded. "Okay." He glanced down at one of the sheets of paper in front of him. "You weren't with Seth when the movie started though, were you?"
Roman shook his head. "We saw Natalya and Tyson as soon as we pulled up through the entrance. I was pissed. Seth was trying to make me feel better and I got annoyed, so I walked off. He followed me for a minute but I told him to leave me alone."
Cena jotted down notes on one of the pages in front of him. There was a tape recorder rolling on their conversation, but it made sense to Roman that Cena would want to make writings of his own.
"Did you stay for the movie?"
Roman nodded his response. "I did. I ran into a girl I was talking to when Natalya and I started our thing. Zelina Vega. She was a freshman last year, and it felt dirty to me to date a fourteen year old, so I tried to let her down gently."
"But she's a year older now, huh?" Cena remarked snidely.
Roman threw up his hands in a defensive gesture. "We didn't do anything we couldn't take back. She walked up to me and told me she'd heard about what had happened. Gave me a big hug. Invited me to sit with her in her car. She's got this sweet old classic Fiat Spider convertible. So that's what I was doing. We made out a little bit but that was it."
Cena nodded. "Trust me, you're not here for making out with an underage girl. Especially when you're still underage too. No one in this building wants to lock you up for that."
Roman snickered. "What else do you need from me?"
Cena grunted, indicating he was catching his train of thought. "So what happened next? Everything we've found so far at the crime scene tells us the murders happened between 10 and midnight. The first 911 call for the car came in about 1 AM."
Roman interjected himself here. "I was in the house at 10:45. I know that because curfew on school nights is Eleven, and we were cutting pretty close. Matt let me in and saw me go up the stairs. I didn't leave again."
Cena nodded. "And you guys live way the hell on the other end of Lake Lanier from the murders."
Reigns grunted his agreement. "And I don't have a car. Matt had my keys on him. So I couldn't have driven myself there at any point."
"They definitely would've been dead at that point. We got the first call not long after that. So, what happened after the movie? That's the only time you were unaccounted for."
Roman snickered. "After the movie I told Zelina I'd buy her a soda. The concession stand was closed, so we went to Slater's."
"The gas station up by the dam?"
"Yeah," Reigns confirmed. "Zelina let me drive her car around the lake once. Took about an hour. We stopped for drinks after that. We had the top down and it's still pretty warm out. Needed a break from the heat and bugs. After that, we went and 'parked' for a bit at Steiner Point, and then she dropped me off at home."
Cena nodded, glancing over at John Laurinaitis, noting the irritated look on the Sheriff's face. It was clear to John C. that Laurinaitis clearly hoped Reigns was the culprit, so as to save the taxpayers of Gwinnett County, Georgia, a long and expensive investigation. It was also clear to Cena that Roman had nothing to do with the slayings.
"Okay," Cena reset, satisfied with what he'd heard. "I think you should assert your fifth amendment privilege from here on out. Don't talk to the city police. Don't talk to state troopers. Don't talk to anyone."
Roman gave John Cena a look of disbelief before glancing over at his lawyer.
"That's good advice, Roman," Heyman asserted. "I'm just as shocked as you that an officer of the law would be giving a potential suspect such perplexingly wise counsel."
Cena chuckled. "Well, I happen to not believe he's our guy for this. I'm gonna call over to Slater's and see if they have an eyewitness or surveillance tape. If your story checks out, you're off the list."
Roman pondered this for a moment, before recalling one more detail from the previous night.
"Talk to Heath."
Cena's brow furrowed in confusion. "Heath?"
"Yeah, Heath Slater," Roman repeated. "He was working last night. His dad owns the store. Him or Ruby. She was working the cash register."
"Ruby Riott?" Cena inquired. "The girl with all the tattoos and piercings."
"Yeah," Reigns confirmed. "I know her a little. She graduated last year. She can ID me easy. We even talked for a few minutes."
"Ruby Riott," Cena echoed, jotting the name on his legal pad. He glanced over at Heyman, then back at his detainee. "Okay, well, I'm gonna call over to Slater's and see if they have security footage. Between that and the eyeball witnesses, that should be enough to solidify your alibi."
"You are correct, sir," bellowed the attorney. "Now, if there's nothing else, my client and I will be leaving-"
Cena cut him off. "I can't let him leave until we clear him."
Heyman raised an eyebrow in annoyance. "Are you charging my client?"
Cena shook his head. "No, bu-"
Heyman continued his barrage. "Then we will be leaving. I await your phone call confirming my client's story. From now on you talk to me, not him. Clear?"
Cena shrugged, speechless for the first time in as long as he could remember, before replying. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess that's fine."
"You're damn right it's fine," Heyman retorted. He turned toward Sika. "Get your son home. Do not let him talk to any other cops without me. Understood?"
Sika nodded. Roman stood from the table, extending his bound hands toward Deputy Cena.
"Deputy? The handcuffs, please." Roman tried his best not to look smug as he watched the uniformed officer unlock the bracelets from around his wrists.
"Thank you," was all Roman managed to push out before Heyman and Sika ushered him from the interrogation room.
While Roman was spilling his guts at the Sheriff's office, Dean Ambrose and Alexa Bliss were trying very hard to settle theirs. Chorus had ended without anyone singing another note. Mrs. McMichael had done everything she could just to make sure the students stayed mostly quiet and in her classroom. Once the bell rang, all anyone could talk about on the way to lunch was Roman Reigns being led out of school by at least four Deputies
For Alexa, the idea of anyone dying in a fire almost overloaded her emotions. Having sensed this, Dean walked her to lunch, allowing her to hook her arms around his own sinewy bicep and slowly striding into the cafeteria.
"You're okay, Lexi, just stay with me, okay?"
Alexa nodded, fighting the sickness fighting its way from the pit of her stomach. "I don't know why this is bothering me so much, other than the fire. I barely knew Natalya."
Dean snickered humorlessly. "That's okay. It's bothering me and I fucking hated Natalya." Alexa laughed as Dean finished his sentence and initiated a new one. "She hurt my friend and was as fake a human being as I've ever met."
Alexa covered her mouth to keep her own laugh in. Given the circumstances, a loud cackle would've been highly inappropriate, but that didn't stop her sense of humor from twinging as Dean spoke.
"Do you think Roman killed her?" Alexa asked, almost immediately afraid of the answer.
Dean shook his head steadfastly, though he wasn't upset with Alexa for asking. She didn't know Roman Reigns the way he did.
"No. I think he probably wanted to, but I'm almost positive he would've called me to help him hide the body after if he had."
The pair made the wide turn to the cavernous cafeteria that marked the dead center of Blue River High school. Built like a circle, Blue River had six halls that splayed out in a 360 degree circle, without the outermost spherical hall. Instead, there was a center spoke that served as the dining hall.
And, for what it was worth, the food at Blue River really wasn't too bad. Instead of serving a set menu every single day, as Alexa's former school had, there were several lines and options to choose from. Dean, ever the good sport, walked Alexa to the salad bar, where she'd procured her nourishment every day the week previous.
"Thank you, Dean," the tiny blonde managed to stutter as she regained her bearings.
"Not a problem," the linebacker retorted. "You want me to save you a seat?"
Alexa nodded lightly. "Please. One with you and near Bayley and Dana, if you can manage it."
Dean snickered. "That's a tall order, but I think I can handle that."
"Thank you, friend," Alexa returned, the color finally returning to her cheeks. Despite her better judgement, she slid her hand down to take Dean's, even threading her fingers in between his. Dean glanced down at her, eyebrows raised, as if to say "are you sure?"
She smiled weakly up at him. "You're so nice to me," she cooed softly. "Thank you for having my back. This fire shit is hard for me. I hadn't really…" she paused, trying to think of the right words. "I didn't get a chance to process it until we were in chorus. It took me back to Ohio." Her phrasing grew weaker as she spoke. "Just… don't leave me, okay?"
Dean did his best to present a calm exterior. "I got your back, homey. Let's eat."
Alexa managed a smile. It was tiny, and not altogether genuine, but it was present, and for the moment, it was enough.
Dean kept his promise. He got his lunch and waited for Alexa to purchase hers. He then walked with her, making sure her emotions didn't get the better of her, all the way to the far end of the cavernous cafeteria, where their normal table was. Bayley couldn't help but smile when she saw how genuinely sweet Dean was being, even when she saw her stepbrother mouthing the words "I'll kill you" when he felt the latina's grin was getting too noticeable.
For Alexa, this was comfort. Dean sat to her immediate left, making quiet conversation as the world passed around them. Bayley, Dana, Zack, Seth, and Charlotte all chimed in with concern for their friend, who to the best of their knowledge was currently in Gwinnett County lockup. To the tiny blonde in a "Raiders Cheer" polo shirt, however, there was only Dean Ambrose. Her protector, comfort, and companion. And, she admitted to herself, she was falling hard for him. And that thought scared her as much as anything else.
….
John Cena was quite relieved, and more than a little surprised, at how well Roman Reigns' story held up. He started with the security footage at Slater's. Sure enough, it showed the muscular boy stopping at the front counter to converse with Ruby, with the date and time in bold white letters and numbers at the bottom right hand corner of the screen.
He'd also sent a female officer to interview Zelina Vega. John supposed he could've had the tiny latina brought to the precinct, but there was no reason to frighten a potential witness. She verified Roman's presence in her vehicle, and confirmed his alibi to within about five minutes of Roman's timetable.
Which was just as well to John. Deputy Cena had dealt with the Reigns family on a handful of occasions, mostly in social or church settings, and it was outside of Cena's comprehension that the youngest son of an upstanding familial presence that had roots going back in Gwinnett County for over eighty years could kill in cold blood. Deputy Cena poured over the murder case file, which struck him differently now that he wasn't looking at a scorned lover as the perpetrator. One thing John was sure of, however, was that this slaying wasn't random. There was an element of hatred in these particular actions that belied the sense that at the very least, the killer wanted his victims to suffer.
Also weighing heavily in the back of Deputy Cena's mind was the latest in Mike Mizanin's disappearance. After several days of trying, the Mizanins had finally returned contact with the Sheriff's department. None of the house staff at any of the Mizanin's properties had seen or been in contact with Mike since he'd last appeared at school the Thursday previous. And Maryse Oullette's parents were officially "flipping out," having boarded a plane to Atlanta from Montreal the evening before. There was a rumor that they were meeting a representative from the Canadian Embassy at the Atlanta airport before descending upon the northern suburb. And they were a dream to deal with compared to the Mizanins, who'd known since Friday that their son was at the very least skipping school, yet had only gotten around to begin returning to their spacious mansion that day. It'd be two more days before the obscenely wealthy couple finally made it home.
Grabbing his office phone quickly, John pressed a speed-dial number and waited.
"Hey, it's me. I think we should have a couple deputies waiting for the Oullette's when they land… Yeah, right at the gate. We can get real proactive… Well, I'm not sure I give a shit what Sheriff Laurinaitis thinks at this point. We're a year from the next election and he can explain why he didn't want to be as active in solving the most grisly murders in our town in a hundred years if he puts a kibosh on it…"
Cena's conversation continued on, the impending invasion of French-Canadians foremost on his mind. Before long, however, the aspect of a few foreign nationals stopping in on last minute notice would be the least of John Cena's problems...
….
The rest of the day held more of the same for the gang. Teachers did their best to reclaim the focus of the pupils in their care, and in turn the students gave a token attempt to learn, but everyone in the building had the same concern in mind; the potential guilt of Roman Reigns.
Dean sleep walked through football practice, all the while trying to keep at least a passive eye on Alexa. The poor girl had walked in a daze all afternoon, and it mystified Dean how much that fact worried him. He'd had a brief chance to walk and talk with her at the end of evening workouts for football and cheerleading, and Dean had assured the tiny girl he'd be staying at his mom's house tonight, which was only a couple of streets over from her own home.
Dean didn't mind staying there. In truth, it made him slightly happier to be in his mother's well-worn abode than his dad's sprawling mansion overlooking Lake Lanier. For one, there were really no rules. Dean was pretty much on his own until his mom returned home from her job at Holly's Auto Parts and Service, and that usually wasn't until after Eight pm. And that was only on days she didn't go to the bar after. That habit, along with an astounding lack of judgement when it came to spending money, had led to the Ambrose's divorce when Dean was much younger.
But at the moment, Dean was completely alone. Part of him welcomed the solitude. So much of his day was spent serving the interests of others. His teachers. Coaches. Peers. All of whom wanted something from him. At his mom's house, no one could bother him unless he allowed it.
Being there also permitted him one of his favorite vices; smoking. He hadn't done it regularly since Christmas, but every once in a while Dean still indulged in the habit. At his mom's, he reasoned internally, no one would know if the scent came from him or the residual cigarette smoke that aerated his mother's residence. The linebacker sat in the open window of the great room of his mom's house, blowing smoke out into the world. From across the domicile, however, Ambrose heard the bright PING of an incoming instant message. Crossing to his computer, Dean grinned as he saw who'd sent him correspondence via AOL.
LexiBelle84: Hey. WYD?
Ambrose wasn't sure what was happening. Alexa had quickly imprinted herself as Dean's primary companion at school, but there'd been very little communication other than in-person between them during nights and weekends.
Dean pounded at his keyboard, eagerly responding.
DeAm55: Nm. moms. Stay w her sometimes during wk. Closer 2 school & less rules here. Y?
From just a couple hundred or so yards away, Alexa inhaled deeply. She'd always had trouble putting herself out there, but this was different. She had total faith in Dean's willingness to take her mental health seriously, but if her crush said "no" to the next question, Alexa wasn't sure if she'd be able to function for the next few days.
LexiBelle84: John & Mickie took kids for ice cream & walk. Invited me, but I had HW 2 get done. Here alone. Except for Macy. She says hi. UR her new BFF. N E Way, kinda eerie over here all by myself w everything happening. Don't like being alone. Wanna come over & watch tv?
Dean inhaled deeply. This was exactly what he'd been waiting for. There was only one issue; if Linda Ambrose got home before he returned, no matter how close he was, she'd call his dad. And that was unacceptable. Dean's chest tightened as he pecked out a response.
DeAm55: Wish I could. Mom will call dad if not here when she gets home from work. Unacceptable. Would love to host U & Macy here tho. Ur house is super close to my moms. Got some beer. About 2 order pizza. Fave kind? Will add to order.
Alexa smiled as she read Dean's volley back. Of course she would go over there as soon as her new used car would take her. She couldn't appear too eager, however.
LexiBelle84: K. Lemme freshen up a lil. Get Macy calm & ready. Order me thin crust supreme plz. No olive. My absolute fave. There's an open vodka in cabinet. Want me 2 bring?
Ambrose grinned.
DeAm55: Hell yes I do. Will order now. Get here ASAP. Freaks & Geeks preview about 2 start. Don't make me miss.
With that, Alexa pulled her mussed hair back into a hasty ponytail, before giving herself a once-over in her armoire mirror. "Good enough," she mused to herself. Calling her trusty puppy into the room, Alexa snatched up her backpack and slid into her flip flops, grabbing her car keys from a hook hung next to her door and leashing the lab to the retractable line her mom had given her a year prior. Taking the stairs two at a time, Alexa Bliss stopped at the liquor cabinet to procure the promised spirits, then hurriedly strode out the front door, stopping to lock both the deadbolt and door lock, and made her way to the compact car she'd purchased just a few days prior. Allowing her dog to leap across the opening driver's door, Alexa giggled as Macy curled up in her passenger's seat, as though it'd been picked out just for the spoiled pooch.
"Ready, Mace?" Alexa asked.
Instead of responding, the puppy just raised her head, as if to say "I don't care where we're going, just get me to the pizza."
"That's what I thought," Alexa returned. Turning her key in the ignition, Alexa sparked the car to life, threw the gear shift into ignition, and sped away.
…
Dean Ambrose was pretty happy with himself. His mom had just called the house, brusquely letting him know that it would be at least another two hours before she would even be able to consider coming home, and THAT was contingent upon her not driving out to Windham's Pub out by Highway Twenty, a thirty minute drive from her work and almost an hour from her home. She didn't outright say it, but a trip to "Windy's" never lasted less than two hours where Dean's mom was concerned. Dean hung up before she'd had a chance to respond to his "ok," then hastily prepared for his visitor. As he straightened the living room, pizza having been ordered, Dean's phone began chirping the familiar ringtone he'd chosen.
"Ro?" Dean asked, seeing his caller ID at the exact moment he'd pressed "accept" on his display.
"Hey. It's me. You gotta help me, man. Come to your back door. Please."
Dean shook his head and rolled his eyes. Of course his best friend would need him now, when the prettiest girl Dean had ever laid eyes on was making the short jaunt over to his house.
"Fine," Dean groaned into the receiver. Hanging up the call, Dean sprinted down the stairs to the back basement door, where his best friend since childhood was apparently waiting for his arrival.
Ambrose came to a stop in front of the white wooden door. Exhaling deeply, not allowing himself to consider what was going on with his compadre, Dean pulled the doorknob and adjusted his eyes to the setting sun.
"Dean! Oh man, I'm so glad it's you. You gotta help me, man!" Roman Reigns sounded desperate, as though he'd done something stupid and was just now considering the repercussions.
"The fuck, man? What're you doing here?" Dean managed to spit out before Roman continued.
"Those cops tried to pin Nattie's murder on me! They said they had fingerprints and my alibi didn't hold up! I took off while they were taking me out to the car. You gotta let me hide here until I clear my name, man."
Dean felt his heart begin pounding. To make matters worse, he could vaguely make out a few silhouettes out by the treeline of his mother's backyard. Squinting, Dean attempted in vain to try to identify the shadowy outlines, but they were just a bit too far away.
"Okay, Roman, get in here." Trying his best not to lose his composure, Dean did his best to usher his best friend into the basement, while at the same time feeling his heart skip several beats as his ears detected the approach of a vehicle he could only assume was Alexa Bliss's.
Ambrose's eyebrows rose straight to the sky as Roman Reigns began to chuckle. That expression from the giant Samoan turned into a full blown laugh as the wraiths from the twilight also began bellowing with guffaws.
After another moment of uncertainty, Dean realized what was happening. At least partially. Roman's Samoan cousins were fucking with him.
"Jimmy! Jey! You douchebags!" Dean declared into the night, no hint of good nature in his voice.
Roman cut him off. "You should've seen your fuckin' face, man. Holy shit!"
Dean's humiliation grew exponentially whenever a human form emerged from the woods, and there were far more than he was expecting. Jimmy and Jey Uso, twin linebackers a year behind Dean, were the first two to reveal themselves, but Dean was mortified to find out that Seth Rollins, Bayley, and Dana Brooke were also hiding out in the deciduous array.
"Shit!" Ambrose exclaimed loudly as the parade of classmates grew and grew, before Roman grabbed him by the arm.
"Who's that pulling up, Dean?"
The now borderline angry Ambrose contemplated his answer, before deciding to speak the truth. "I invited Alexa like thirty minutes ago. That was about five minutes before your horseshit started."
"Alexa's coming?" Bayley asked, not at all grasping why Dean was so agitated that they would all be there.
"I think she just pulled up," Dean spat, his visions of a cozy early fall evening spent with "the new girl" quickly circling an imaginary toilet bowl.
"Ohh! Yay! I'll go let her in!" Having been to her stepbrother's mom's house several times, Bayley bounded past Ambrose and headed upstairs. Dean rolled his eyes at his stepsister's presumption, but he couldn't be irritated too much. Finally, he looked back at Reigns and the remainder of the treeline gathering.
"Well, get the fuck in, if you're staying, but you're ordering your own pizza. I only ordered for me and Lex."
Roman chuckled. "Sorry we fucked up your date at six-thirty on a Monday, Dean."
"It's not a…" He trailed off as Roman sauntered past him and into the Ambrose basement.
"Date," he muttered to himself, not at all sure of his own words. Glancing to his right, he saw Dana, Seth, and the Uso's still waiting to be invited in. Sighing deeply, Ambrose shrugged and gestured toward the open door. "You might as well. I didn't invite Roman, either, and he's in there."
Quickly, and with excited grins, the quartet of stragglers strode in the doorway and up the small staircase quickly, making almost silent chatter as they spread out on the main floor.
…
Alexa couldn't decide if she was more sad or angry. She'd extended the invite to Dean to watch tv as a low-key but earnest attempt to get to know the boy better away from prying eyes at school or related functions. She hadn't for a single second anticipated Dean summoning a half-dozen of his closest friends to join them. Only the imminent arrival of their pizza gave the tiny blonde a respite from the constant horseplay and other nonsense in the living room.
She wasn't completely furious. Bayley had again taken responsibility for Macy, allowing Alexa at least some carefree time. Even now, as Lexi stood in the kitchen, she could hear her puppy playfully wrestling with the dark-haired Latina.
Her train of thought was abruptly de-railed by the erratic approach of Dean Ambrose. In his hands, he held two pizza boxes, which ostensibly held dinner for both of them. He smiled warmly, but let his expression sink when he saw the somewhat somber look on Alexa's face.
"What's up, Lex? Not hungry?"
The petite girl snickered. "Starving. It's just…" Now she stopped, trying to choose her next words carefully.
"Yeah?" Dean pressed, although he was pretty certain he knew where this was going.
"I thought you and I were gonna get to spend some time together away from everyone. That's why I IM'ed you originally. You've been so sweet to me and I wanted to, I dunno," she paused briefly, letting her gaze hit the floor. She gave a deep, calming exhale, before steeling her feelings and re-focusing on Ambrose. "I wanted to maybe snuggle and watch a movie or just talk to you. But if you don't feel like you don't want that with me anymore, you can just tell me. You didn't have to invite a bunch of folks over to let me know this wasn't a date."
Dean's heart sank. It genuinely made his soul hurt to hear the sadness in Alexa's voice. At the same time, he had a legitimate excuse. One that didn't even involve stupidity on his part.
"I didn't invite any of these assholes," Dean began in earnest. "Roman came banging on the basement door and pretended he ran from the cops when I opened up. We didn't have practice today because of all the police presence at school, so I guess he called Seth and everyone else and thought it'd be funny if they came over here and hid while Ro scared the shit out of me."
"Really?" Alexa asked, her countenance brightening and smile growing at the thought of such a prank.
"Yeah," Dean nodded. His own smile turned into a knowing smirk. "You wanted to snuggle with me?"
Alexa tried to hide her face turning bright, beet red. "Well, yeah. Like I said, I really needed you today and you came through." She glanced up at him, fingering a lock of stray hair from in front of her face. "You're the only person here other than John and Mickie who know what happened before I came here. And you haven't treated me like a crazy person, even if I probably am."
Dean snickered, though it was friendly. "Like I told you before, if you're crazy, what does that make me for being into crazy chicks?"
The young woman shook her head, biting her tongue slightly and rolling her eyes. "Yeah, yeah." Without missing a beat, she took the pizza boxes from her potential love interest and fished a fresh slice out. She took a giant bite of her first piece, moaning softly in reflection at how good the treat tasted to her.
"Damn that's good. It's not Donato's, but it's pretty good."
Dean snickered. "That an Ohio thing?"
Alexa grinned. "No. It's a 'not Georgia' thing."
The pair continued their lighthearted banter a moment longer, before the sounds of approaching footsteps curtailed their flirtation into a more straightforward conversation.
"Something smells good!" Jey Uso exclaimed as he bounded into the kitchen.
"Nope," Dean returned, stymying the young man's attempt to commandeer any pizza from the existing orders. "I told you fucking freeloaders this is for me and Lexi. Order your own shit. I'm serious. The only thing we're sharing is vodka."
Jimmy Uso perked up, having followed directly behind his brother. "Where the liquor at?"
Dean rolled his eyes. "It's in the freezer. My mom's got a regulation bar stashed up there, too." Dean pointed above the refrigerator, where several large glass bottles gathered together like a huddle of sentinels watching over the kitchen. "Knock yourselves out. Order your own pizza. Just don't steal mine or Lexi's shit. I will fuck you up. Understood?"
Each Uso exchanged a curious glance with the other. "Yeah. Okay…" Jimmy trailed off, before coming to his senses and reaching for a fifth of brown liquor. Dean turned back toward the tiny blonde.
"Can I make you a drink? I'm a shitty bartender, but I've been told I have a heavy elbow."
Alexa giggled and shook her head. "No thanks. We have practice tomorrow. I will take a beer though."
Dean grinned. "One beer for the lady," he exclaimed playfully, reaching into his mom's off-white fridge. "And two for me," he continued, much more softly. Bliss's laugh grew louder.
"It's a school night, Dean."
Ambrose stared down at his hands, contemplating what Alexa said. "You're right," he agreed solemnly. "Better make a mixed drink, too."
Everyone in the kitchen shared a hearty laugh, even as Roman and Dana plowed through the doorway on a search for libation.
….
Alexa wouldn't have admitted this to herself in the moment, because she was still irrationally irritated over the half dozen or so peers that showed up to ruin her "get to know you" time with Dean, but she was really having fun. She'd never met a group of kids as instantly accepting as the ones in Blue River, and everyone in the worn-in living room was doing their best to make Alexa feel at home. She was working a nice buzz, though she was careful not to drink so much that her aunt or uncle would figure out she was intoxicated. "It's not so much that they'd be upset I was drinking," she reasoned with herself. "Just that it's a school night."
The only issue that even threatened to derail their amusement was the issue of what to watch. Dean was "all in" for a special preview broadcast of the pilot for a show called "Freaks and Geeks." Bayley and Alexa were fine with that selection, but Roman and Dana pushed hard for "10 Things I Hate About You," a movie just released to DVD that had come out the previous spring. Eventually, Dana's DVD choice won out. She'd brought a copy from Blockbuster, where she worked when she had time, and Alexa couldn't say with any honesty that she was upset by the choice.
What was readily apparent to both Dean and Alex was exactly how natural they felt around each other. They'd made an unspoken agreement not to display any affection in front of this group, yet Alexa found herself subconsciously scooting closer to the object of her desires. Still, she found room to pay attention to other things. Like how Bayley and Macy appeared to be best friends. Or how Dana couldn't seem to keep her eyes off of the screen of her cell phone.
"What's going on, Dana?" Jimmy Uso asked.
"Nothing," Dana sighed, her voice betraying her inner annoyance. "Zack can't come over here because he's gotta finish up at the restaurant and he also has to make sure Enzo and Cass get settled okay."
"Who?" Seth called from the other couch.
Dana rolled her eyes, apparently unhappy with this latest development. "His cousins. They moved down from New York over the last few days. They were at school today." She stopped to set her hands in the proper position for her next statement. "Cass is about six foot nine and Enzo is maybe five foot ten, but they're both supposedly fantastic athletes. Got in some trouble in New York, so they're here."
Dean's eyebrows raised. "Really?"
"Yeah," Dana affirmed. "They were in school today, but I didn't get a chance to meet them with everything happening. Zack said they both play football, so I'm guessing you'll see them tomorrow."
Dean nodded. "Dope." From his other side, he could hear Alexa conversing with Bayley, while the two lovingly pet Macy, who was curled between them on Dean's mom's worn-in sofa. The lanky young man smiled. What made him happier than anything, more even than football, was being with his friends. His train of thought was interrupted by Dana "shushing" everyone as the movie began. Everyone abided the blonde's wishes, but Alexa brushed her hand over Dean's, with just enough force to let him know she'd done it intentionally. He glanced over at her, his heart skipping a beat, and she rewarded him with a wink and a broad, affectionate smile, before turning her attention to Heath Ledger and Julia Stiles…
…..
Zack Ryder wasn't having nearly as much fun as his compatriots. With practice canceled, he'd chosen to make a little extra spending money washing dishes at his parent's restaurant. That wasn't what was bothering him, however. What currently had his ire raised was the presence of a certain female server. Taya Valkyrie, to be exact.
Taya, who'd graduated from Blue River the spring previous, wasn't what any reasonable person would consider "rational." She'd delayed going to college for a year to save money, which would've been fine, but she'd also been unable to make a change that had haunted her for the last few months; an unhealthy attraction to Zack Ryder. It had started innocently enough. Zack was a friendly, warm human being, and his kind treatment of Taya led to her developing feelings for him that he hadn't intended, but wasn't going to argue with. They'd spent most of the summer hooking up in the back of Zack's vehicle, but with the new school year Zack's mind was squarely on Dana Brooke.
This was a major problem for Valkyrie, who'd made her mind up that Zack was going to love her whether he liked it or not. So now, while he toiled away at the stainless steel cookware and warming trays, he also had to dodge the aggressive come-ons of the older blonde.
"Zack, baby, what's wrong?" Taya cooed, as seductively as she could muster at 10 pm on a Monday. As she purred at her potential paramour, she allowed her hands to run down the front of Ryder's apron. Growing annoyed, Zack exhaled deeply and removed Taya's offending limbs from his body.
"Taya. Seriously. I don't want this anymore."
The busty blonde gave a giant, exaggerated pout. "Why not, Zacky?"
Ryder snickered. "There's a girl at school I like. At high school. Because I'm still in high school. Why aren't you at North Georgia? You got into school there…"
Taya shrugged, though she was still entirely too close for Zack's liking. "I can't afford it yet. I have to save money. Although, you could solve a lot of problems by just being my boyfriend…"
"What?" Zack fired back incredulously as Taya twirled her hair between her fingers. "How would that solve anything?"
Taya snickered again. "Then you could knock me up and your rich-ass parents could support us."
Zack laughed, purely out of disbelief. "Abso-fuckin'-lutely not." He turned back toward his work, hoping to look his coworker in the eye. "There is no way I'm getting jammed up like that. Mom and Dad already said they won't get caught up in any paternity shit. They hate Springer and Maury and all that nonsense…"
Taya scoffed at this latest assertion. "Look, Zacky. You and I have great chemistry. You really think you're gonna get from some high school skeeze what you get from this?" She ran her hands down both sides of her figure, which even Zack had to admit was unbelievably exquisite, right before reminding himself how completely insane she was. "Getting it on with me was the best thing that ever happened to you. We both know it."
Zack fired back. "Seriously. We're done, man. You're so pushy and weird. Aren't you like, twenty? Go find some frat boy and pound sand."
Taya chomped her gum, angrily, before rolling her eyes. "Whatever. Your loss." She spun on her heels, striding away from Ryder, who still wasn't sure what was happening. She turned her head back toward the perplexed dishwasher. "And tell your mom I quit. I'm leaving this shitty town."
Without waiting for a reply, Valkyrie stormed out of the dish pit, before haughtily gathering her belongings and shoving the front door open, leaving a bewildered Mickie James at the hostess stand and her former place of employment in the dust.
…
It didn't take long for Taya to regret her rash actions. As she loitered just down the block from Ryder's grill, it occurred to her that she might've waited to quit until she had a ride.
"Fuck," she muttered under her breath as she combed through her purse in search of a cigarette. Just then her cell phone chirped, alerting the defiant blonde that she had a call. She rolled her eyes upon gazing at the tiny green screen. "Hello?" She spat as she answered her phone, her impatience bleeding through in her voice. She listened for a moment. "Yeah. Yeah, I need a ride home." She listened again, holding a crumpled pack of smokes to her lips, drawing the last cigarette from its wrapping without touching it with her hands. She rested the phone between her cheek and shoulder as she flicked her lighter.
"Fifteen minutes?" She exclaimed, before taking a deep breath. "Yeah. Yeah that's fine. Can you bring me some smokes? I'm all out," she continued, before taking the thin cigarette between her two fingers and blowing out deeply. Her voice softened as the nicotine coursed through her system, soothing her sour mood. "Yeah. Thanks a lot, babe. See you soon."
Before she could hear any response, Taya hit the red "end" button on her keypad. Though it wasn't cold in Georgia yet, even at night, there was a chill in the air that accompanied the gorgeous autumn season in the region north of Atlanta. The nip in the air was enough to cause her to hop up and down on her toes slightly. "Fuck," she muttered to herself again.
She idled a moment, contemplating what'd transpired inside Ryder's just a few minutes before. Her irritation now subsiding, she admitted to herself that losing her temper with a boy whose family had been so good to her was probably a mistake. In addition to Zack treating her like a queen over the summer, taking her on actual dates and even including her in his family's vacation to the upscale St. Simon's Island off the coast of Southern Georgia. But they'd had a substantial argument right before school let back in, and Taya ended up losing her temper. "I'm noticing a recurring theme here," she muttered to herself.
She'd dragged her smoke all the way almost to the nub. She was hoping the guy she'd asked for a ride would remember she needed some. Now just fidgeting and shifting from one foot to the other, Taya began humming a song she'd gotten stuck in her head during her long shift at Ryder's. Her last one, as it turned out.
Between every storefront on the main thoroughfare in downtown Blue River was an alley. This wonderful design feature had been implemented when the town was rebuilt following a devastating fire in 1865. Blue River, unfortunately, had been directly in the path of Union Army General William Tecumseh Sherman and his notorious "March to the Sea." He'd harmed that part of the world so spectacularly that the mere mention of his name still made some of the area's senior citizens swear and spit openly. Following these events, the town's leadership decided to add space in between the structures, to allow for access to fire prevention. It also made for some quality concealment opportunities when trying to scare a friend. Taya herself had seen Zack's idiot friends Dean Ambrose and Seth Rollins spend the summer scaring the hell out of each other with pranks.
Which is why it didn't seem strange when Taya saw a shadowy figure slip into the alley across the street and two buildings over. She hadn't seen anyone walking up the street that way, but that didn't necessarily mean anything. Kids often played in front of the businesses their parents were occupying. It did seem strange when Taya caught additional movement from her peripheral vision. The shadows were dancing to her left and almost behind her.
"Hello?" She called out, her blood pressure suddenly rising. "Who's there?"
The buxom blonde wasn't sure if she was expecting a response or not, but the eerie silence paled the normally brash girl. "This isn't funny, James. I'm serious."
Still no answer. Ordinarily, this wouldn't have bothered Taya. Blue River was a safe town. A picturesque, family-friendly hamlet in the northern tip of Gwinnett County, one of the most vibrant areas of any of Atlanta's suburbs. But that was before two people got bludgeoned and set on fire out in the woods earlier in the week. The fates of Tyson Kidd and Natalya Neidhart in her head, Taya cautiously inched toward the alley behind her that she thought she'd seen a shadowy figure scamper into.
Turning the corner, her eyes grew wide with anticipation as she wondered what was waiting for her. To her complete shock, the small egress between buildings was devoid of life. "What the hell?" She muttered to herself. If this "prank" had ever been funny, it certainly wasn't at this moment. Taya could've sworn she'd seen a figure shimmy into that enclave, and she wasn't entirely sure she hadn't. What she did see, to her immense relief, was the worn Chevrolet Camaro she was expecting pull in to a spot on the curb near Ryder's Grill.
"Taya?" The car's driver called. Taya rolled her eyes. James Ellsworth had been after her since she was old enough to be gone after. He'd been a Senior when Taya was a Freshman, and while so many others had graduated from Blue River and gone on to bigger and better things, Ellsworth had stayed behind. At the moment he was working at Holly's Auto, changing customers' oil and trying to sell tire upgrades the customer may or may not have needed. That's where he'd driven from to pick up the girl he'd so relentlessly been after the last few years. He sprang from the driver's seat as Taya strode resolutely into his view.
"I'm here, James, hold on." In spite of her contempt for his general countenance, she was happy to see her would-be suitor at the moment. She was so happy, in fact, that she failed to notice the shadowy figure slip behind James' driver seat and out of any helpful view. She threw her arms around the scrawny neck of her rescuer, planting a big kiss on his neck.
"Wha' was that for?" Ellsworth asked, bewildered.
"I'm glad you're here. There was some weird shit happening."
"What do you mean, 'weird shit?'" James asked.
"I dunno," Taya returned. "Like, someone was watching me and moving around in the shadows. I'm sure I'm just being para-"
She never got to finish her sentence. As she spoke, a sudden pair of gloved hands reached up from the back seat and sliced the throat of her chaffeur. Before the pain even fully registered, James Ellsworth had both hands to his trachea, his attempt at words of warning only coming out as gurgles.
"WHAT THE F-"
Poor Taya was never getting to finish her thoughts anymore. This time it was her throat being cut. The same long, shining knife that dispatched her unrequited crush took her own life, though she attempted to reach behind her to ID her killer as she expired. The figure in the back of the vehicle sneered, before dipping their knife in the warm, saturating blood of James Ellsworth. For the first time in his or her set of murders, the killer scrawled a crude symbol on the inside of the back window before slithering out the car door and into the still black night….
