Hello all! I wanted to try something new and see how you guys like it and if you do, where I can take it. I'm not abandoning 'Too Good To Be True' that is my baby and I've put a lot of blood, sweat and tears into it, so no need to worry! Please! Honestly, tell me what you think!
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone affiliated with the WWE, only Lucy and her father.
I hope you enjoy!
"You stupid bitch!" My father yells, taking me by the hair and throws me harshly against the wall with a thump before I fall to the wooden floor. I cry out at the pain when my head collides with the stone wall.
"Why can't you be like your mother? She never fucked anything up. That's all you ever do, is fucking everything up!" She died giving birth to me and I'm an only child, so you can only imagine how much of a failure I've been my entire life.
My name is Lucia or Lucy for short. Apparently, it's what my mom wanted to name me and if I were to be a boy, I would have been Benjamin. But I guess that point is moot. I'm 26 years old, I have long dark brown hair that goes to the middle of my back and brown eyes. Obviously, as you can tell, I still live at home with my father. According to him, I'm not worthy enough or good looking enough to have a man on my arm.
Father won't let me find a suitor to take care of me and that I can call my own. Then again at this point, I don't know if I want to find someone to call my own. I'm pretty sure it's because he's constantly drunk and can't fend for himself otherwise, but I've just about had enough. When I don't respond to his verbal abuse because I accidentally burnt dinner, father slaps me across the face, whipping my head to the side. I instantly feel my lip split open and the metallic iron taste of blood hits my tastebuds.
I look up at him with tears in my eyes as he huffs and puffs from the exertion it took for him to hit me with how incoherent he is. "You're stupid and pathetic! You never do anything right!" My father yells at me and charges me, pulling me up to my feet by my hair and I cry out once more. My head whips to the side again when he backhands me and I know a bruise is going to form on my face.
"Father! Please! Stop!" I cry out, cowering when he hits me again, but this time he doesn't stop. He continues his assault and I can't take it anymore. Thank god the door is next to us because the next thing I know, I find the strength to push him off of me and tug the front door open and run.
"You fucking bitch! Get your ass back here, you cunt!" He bellows out, but I continue to run at full speed. To where? I don't know. But I know I can't go back to him. "Fine! You can't survive without me! You'll be back!" He yells and slams the door. I don't hear the door slam because I am too far away from the little cottage I lived my entire life in. Until now.
I keep running until my legs give out on me and my lungs are out of air. I collapse hard to the grassy field with a pained grunt and curl up into a tiny ball to keep myself warm. I soon drift off to sleep to the sounds of crickets chirping and the occasional snorting of a passing deer.
Morning comes much too soon and I am awoken by the sound of grass crunching. I quickly become alert of my surroundings, but I become alert a few seconds too late, for I am approached by 3 large men. All of them are dressed in what appears to be the Scottish tartans colors of King Drew McIntyre. Blue, black and white.
My eyes widen upon recognizing who they are. The second I get to my feet, I turn to flee, but am grabbed from behind by the largest of the 3 whose name I learned is Braun. The second I feel his arm wrapped around my middle, I scream, kick and fight with everything in me, but he is just much too powerful for me.
"Please…" I beg as tears start to pour down my face, "please, just leave me alone! Put me down!" I cry. I think I manage to get a hit in on this Braun because I hear him grunt and his hold on me tightens.
"Damn it, hold still. Will ye?" He growls and when I refuse to listen, I am tossed over his shoulder.
"How dare you! You put me down, you beast!" I scream at him, pounding my tiny fists against his hard back.
"Shut yer trap," is my response, while he roughly readjusts me on his shoulder.
"I don' think treatin' her like a rag doll is goin' to help ye any when we get her back to McIntyre, Strowman," the one called Orton says.
"Do ye think I care about what he thinks at the moment? I just wan' to get her back and be done with it," Braun tells Orton and the third one who is called Rollins, chuckles at the other two's banter.
"What do you want from me? Just leave me be, please," I says quietly as tears roll down my face. I am beyond frightened with being held captive by these three large men and god knows what my future holds when they bring me back to this King McIntyre. I haven't heard much about him, but what I have heard is nothing nice.
They call him the Scottish Warrior because he isn't afraid to fight. He shows no mercy to those who cross his path and he's been known to use his trusty Claymore to mutilate his enemies.
My pleas have been ignored and what seems like ages go by, but in reality is probably only a mile trek to the east, that we arrive at a small camp. Tents are set up left and right, but the biggest one is what gets my attention because that is the direction I am being taken in and I start to squirm in Strowman's arms.
"No…please. No, just let me go. Please, I beg of you," I start to screams out, knocking my tiny fists once more on his back, but the action is futile.
Strowman tunes out my pleading because the next thing I know, is I am being...surprisingly...gently placed onto my feet just inside the tent entrance. I look around the large tent and it is filled with knick knacks and multiple tables with maps and papers strewn about, but what catches my eye, is the size of the man at one of said tables. He is haunched over and looks to be observing one of the many maps he has acquired.
Strowman loudly clears his throat and stands up straight, "my king, Orton, Rollins and I came across this…female while hunting for tonights supper. What do you want me to do with her?" he grunts out, never taking his hand off of my arm. I begin to struggle in his hold, but stop cold in my tracks when the king turns around and puts his full attention onto me and Strowman.
My eyes widen when they take this monster of a man in. I'm not going to lie when I say that he is absolutely gorgeous. Despite being in the dimly lit tent, despite it being daylight outside, the first thing I notice about him are his bright blue eyes that stand out above everything else. His slightly curly shoulder length hair is a thick black mane that frames his face. The thick beard he possesses, matches the dark inkiness of his hair. But the size of his body…his sun-kissed tanned skin that covers the bulging muscles throughout, is a sight to behold. And his chest that is covered with a dusting of black hair…oh my. If I weren't in the presence of these 2 men, I'd be fanning myself to ward off the heat of how erotic it is.
However, I am mistaken though, because his eyes are set on me and me alone. His eyes hold a hint of mirth, probably because he just caught me ogling him, but his stare is dark and intimidating. They may even hold just a inkling of softness to them. Surely, I am seeing things though, considering he is the King of Scotland and holds a reputation that precedes him.
I blush at being caught staring, so I quickly look away in embarrassment. A small chuckle leaves his large frame as he slowly makes his way towards me. "Leave us be, Strowman. You are dismissed and can return to your duties; I'll take it from here," Drew orders his soldier.
"Aye, yes sir," Strowman responds with a slight bow and retreats from the tent.
My body stiffens when Drew places a finger under my chin, forcing me to look up at him. My stare is hard as I clench my fists, but I know he can see the fear radiating through my brown orbs. He observes me quietly for a few seconds and his brows furrow when my body starts to shake the second he takes a small step closer to me.
Realizing his close proximity is frightening me, Drew releases his hold on my chin and retreats back to his previous spot. He leans his weight on table and crosses his arms as he watches me. "What is your name, angel face?" He asks me and my heart betrays me when it skyrockets at his nickname for me.
I wrap my arms around my body and lower my eyes before responding, "Lu–lucia," I say quietly, refusing to look at him after his release on my chin.
"Lucia. That's a beautiful name for a beautiful woman," Drew replies back and I blush slightly before giving him a quiet thank you. "My name is Drew," he says.
"I know who you are," I snap at him and my eyes widen at my sudden disrespectful outburst. His eyes harden at my response and I whimper, cowering low into the corner of the tent and table that sit behind me, "I'm…I'm sorry. Please forgive me, My King," I whisper, my voice cracking at the fear that flows through my body.
Drew's eyes soften at my reaction and slowly makes his way towards me once more, "please, don't hit me. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," I continue to whisper, curling in on myself as he hovers over me.
Suddenly, he squats down in front of me and brushes away the hair that had fallen into my face. I flinch at the contact and whimper, fearing that he too will strike me for my disrespect.
"Look at me, Lucia," Drew orders me quietly and I am quick to obey, but I don't rush my actions. When I finally turn to face him, Drew opens his mouth to speak, but it snaps shut and a small growl passes through his lips. My eyes widen at the sound and I cower further away from him.
Drew gently grasps my chin once more and zeros in on my lips, "who did this to you?" He asks quietly, venom in his tone as he lightly touches my split lip with his thumb. I hiss at the contact and push his hand away. A frown passes over his face, "I'm sorry, angel face. I didn't mean to hurt you," Drew says softly, "now, can you please tell me who did this to you? Was it one of my men?"
I shake my head, "no, none of them did it. It was my father who struck me, but why do you care? You don't even know me," I say to him and Drew looks sadly down at me.
"I don't care if I know you or not. No one, not even a man, should ever hit a woman. No matter what she's done. Why did he hit you?" Drew asks me and I breathe a laugh at his question and concern.
"What does it even matter? It's not the worst I've had done to me," I reveal and Drew's eyes harden, turning slightly wild at my confession.
"It matters to me. Why has he done this? What else has he done to you?" The large Scotsman interrogates me and I stubbornly stay silent. Drew sighs at my silence, not removing his stare from me.
"Please, just leave me alone," I say quietly, not looking at him. Drew stands up and my eyes follow the action. I look up at him from my spot on the floor, tears brimming my eyes and Drew's soften upon seeing the tears finally fall down my cheeks.
He holds his hand out to me to help me up to my feet, but I refuse his help. Instead, I get to my knees to help balance myself and get to my feet, wiping off my hands before removing any dirt I can from my skirt. I look up at Drew, my eyes void of any emotion and he sighs once more, shaking his head.
"Such a stubborn woman. Follow me; I'll give you a place to rest. I don't want you staying in here. My men are constantly coming in and out from here," Drew tells me and pushes open the flap to the tent, holding it for me to exit.
I pass by Drew and wait for him as he lets the material fall behind his large frame before heading in the direction of the second largest tent in the camp. Eyes are on me, left and right as I follow Drew through the winding paths of tents. I hear their whispers of wondering who I am and how I've caught the attention of their king.
We finally make it to the tent and Drew, once more, opens the tent entrance for me and I step into the enclosed space. The sunlight that filters into the tent disappears when Drew allows the flap to close behind him. I feel his towering presence behind me, but he is wise enough now, not to touch me; he seems to know it makes me uncomfortable.
"These are my quarters. I unfortunately don't have another available room to offer you. After all, I didn't expect to receive the company of a beautiful woman to come into my camp. So, you can stay here," Drew tells me. My eyes scan the rather large room and a bed, ironically fit for a king, sits in the middle of the space. My lips quirk at my little inside joke as he continues to speak. I cautiously walk further into the room and place my hand gingerly onto the expensive furs that lay on the massive bed.
"My men know better than to enter my quarters without my permission, so you are safe in here. You have my word on that," he tells me and I can feel his eyes on me as he takes in my every movement.
I look over at Drew to find him with a small smile on his face and it enhances his already handsome good looks. "Thank you for your hospitality, but why?" I ask him and he lifts a brow.
"Why, what?" He asks.
"Why are you being so kind to me? Why don't you just let me go? I'll be nothing but a nuisance to you and your men," I say to Drew and a frown, once again, graces his handsome face. "See? Since being brought to your camp, I've done nothing, but put a frown to your face. Save for when you found me amusing," I huff, sitting down on the large bed, crossing my arms over my chest and he chuckles at that.
"May I?" He asks, gesturing to move further into the room and I look at him strangely.
"It is your space, so why are you asking me if it is okay to come in further?" I ask him as if he's gone mad.
"Because I know I make you uncomfortable and that is the last thing I want to do. Besides, I can see that that cut on your lip is fresh and if you telling me that your father is the one who did that to you, I can only assume that he is who you fled from, which is why my men found you in the field all by yourself," Drew deduces and I look up at him in astonishment.
"How do you...?" I ask in shock and a small smirk graces his face.
"I've been around a while, love. I'm king, so I've seen nothing but turmoil. I've been trained to be very observant and after learning everything you have revealed to me, that is the conclusion I have come to. And if what you told me is in fact true, I don't want you returning to him. I've barely laid a hand on you and you flinch whenever I come near you or touch you, so I can only imagine how you act around him," Drew tells me.
"Well, like I said, this is your space, so it is not up to me to tell you that you can or cannot enter further into your own room. And I have to once again ask, why? Why do you care so much about what happens to me?" I question him. "I'm a nobody, my king and I always will be," I say, my voice becoming quiet.
Drew sighs heavily and sits down next to me on the bed, but the second he does, I quickly get to my feet and travel to the opposite side of the bed, putting distance between us. A look of hurt crosses his face at my sudden retreat; I want to feel bad, but I can't.
A defeated look takes the place of the hurt I put there and Drew nods his head in acceptance, "first off, please call me Drew," he tells me before continuing, "and I care because no female should have to feel unsafe in the presence of the man she is suppose to feel most safe with," Drew explains.
I shake my head at his answer. Yes, he does make a valid point, but he seems to be avoiding my question, "but why me?" I stress, becoming more upset. I don't want this attention Drew is giving me. I didn't ask for it.
"Because the second I laid eyes on you upon turning around, I could see in your eyes how broken and hurt you were. I could see the fear shine through your eyes the moment ours connected," Drew tells me and I scoff at his answer.
"So I'm just a pity case. You just thought you'd swoop in and save the day, rescuing the damsel in distress? Hoping that I'll be grateful to you and lay down with you," I spit out in disgust. "Well I am sorry to say, My King," I emphasize his title, shutting down his previous request at calling him by his first name, "but you are shit out of luck. I will never lay down with you, let alone any other man you have in this camp," I snap at him.
Drew goes to respond, but I shake my head and hold my hand up to silence him, "just leave me alone. I want to be left alone. I didn't ask for this. I didn't ask to be abused by my father and most I certainly didn't ask to be held hostage by one of the most menacing and vile men in Scotland," I say, my voice rising in volume and a genuine look of hurt and despair develops in his features.
"But it looks like I don't have a choice or say," I state with a matter of fact tone, "now please. Just leave me alone," I demand Drew with finality in my tone.
Drew nods his head in understanding while getting to his feet, "I'm sorry you feel this way. I'm sorry that you feel that way about me. I hope you will give me the chance to show you I'm nothing like you accuse me of being and I can promise you, even though I'm sure you won't believe me, that I am not holding you hostage. I just want to keep you safe," he tells me, the pain in his tone matching the look on his face.
"You're right, I don't. Now please. Leave me alone," I demand softly, but with a forceful tone. Why can't he just understand that I want to be left alone. I don't want to be around him or anyone for that matter.
"As you wish," Drew replies quietly, bowing his head slightly. He makes his way to the exit of the tent, but turns around to look at me one last time with sad eyes before leaving the confines of his quarters.
The moment he disappears, I collapse back onto the bed, holding a hand to my chest and over my heart, where it is pounding erratically. Tears start to fall from my eyes and onto my cheeks as I cover my mouth to hide the loud cry that wants to rip free from my chest.
It takes me a bit, but I am able to finally calm myself down. Last nights events, this morning and what just happened between myself and Drew has taken it's toll on me. My body becomes tired and I feel my eyes drooping. I don't want to, but I crawl on top of the bed and lay at the edge, facing the entrance to the tent. I keep my eyes trained on the sliver of light for as long as I can, but sleep finally consumes me.
Please review! They make me very happy and encourage me to write! :D
