A/N:  Okay, I'm bending time!!  It's close to WrestleMania 20 now!!

WARNING:  Evilness galore!!!

Dangerous Business

            Chapter XLIV

            Rob Van Dam sighed to himself as he walked through the doors to the airport, taking a glance over at Mark Kings, who had taken the same path as him.  Though Mark had been nothing but nice and gracious, there was a feeling that Rob just couldn't shake about him.  He was glad that the airplane ride was finally over. 

            "Rob."  The steely voice stopped him just as he was getting into his rental car. 

            "Yea?" Rob turned and was surprised to see that it was Mark that had stopped him.  He unlocked his car and threw his luggage in as Mark approached him.  Mark grasped Rob's shoulder, turning the other man to face him. 

            His blue eyes cut through Rob like ice.  "You have to promise me something," he said firmly.  "You can't tell Liz that I was on the plane with you."

            Rob jerked his shoulder back; away from Mark's grip.  "Why?" he asked, taking a small step backward. 

            "Because…" Mark took a threatening step forward, "if you don't, I'll kill Liz."  Rob's head jerked up.  Mark smiled, seeing the younger man's body tense.  "And if you even think of turning me into the police…I'll just deny everything.  There's no proof that I said anything like this.  So I'd advise you to keep your mouth shut about me.  One word and Liz is gone.  Got it?"

            Rob couldn't manage to say anything.  He nodded and climbed into his car, quickly backing up and heading for the streets, not really caring if Mark got clipped by his mirror.  'Damn it.  I really should've run the bastard over.'  Rob thought, his mind still a blur.  'Her own step-father threatening to kill her?  And not just even hurt her…' he swallowed tightly.  There was something odd about this, besides the fact that Mark was threatening to kill her.  'Why would he do something like that just because I told her that he was on the plane flight with me?' Rob wondered, gripping the steering wheel tightly.  'God…  I need to know why he'd do something like that…'

            '…but the only way is to tell Liz.  Then Mark would go after her…'

            Rob clenched his jaw tightly and turned down another street, no longer focusing on finding the area.  His thoughts deafened him as he drove along.  'This is just like when Paul threatened me…'  His knuckles turned white on the wheel.  This wasn't just injuries he was dealing with…it was her life.  For a moment, Rob recalled what Paul had done to him and Liz. 

            'I've already made my mistake in trying to protect her from something like this,' Rob thought, and reached for his cell phone with his right hand.  'I can't protect her from everything.  She can handle herself…' he tried to assure himself as he slowly dialed her cell phone number.  He didn't notice the black car swerve behind him, and didn't see the defining features of the other driver. 

            Even if he had looked back, he wouldn't have been able to see the face, for it was hidden behind a gun. 

            Rob held the phone up to his ear and waited.  Instead of the dial tone there was a sound of breaking glass—the back windshield.  Rob's head flew into the wheel, his chest collapsing against it.  Without a driver to control it, the car swerved off of the road, narrowly missing other cars as it drove off into a small ditch.  Rob was sprawled across the seats, blood pouring from a bullet wound on his head and a bruise forming on his forehead.  His cell phone lay on the floor, the ringing echoing shrilly through the car.

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

            The black car continued its path, the driver pulling himself back through the window, tossing the gun under the seats.  The driver pulled his own phone to his ear, already connected.  "Paul, it's me.  I took care of Rob.  My accomplice is…allied with Shawn Michaels.  The fight between him and Edge on RAW will go a bit further than anyone planned.  You, take care of Lee.  I'm going to pay a visit to the Hurricane," he added, a sick smile scrawled across his face.  He cut the line, and then dialed another number.

            "What?" barked the voice.

            "Brock, it's me, Mark.  I'm pretty sure you've still got pent-up rage about Liz…And I want you do help me destroy her.  I want you to attack Jeff and Lita."

            There was a deep laughter at the other end.  "It would be my pleasure."

            "Another favor, if you don't mind…"

            "No problem."

            "Drop a line by the Big Show.  Tell him that Chris Jericho has been making fun of him in the locker room," he said, smirking. 

            "I'll do that.  Good luck with Shane."  There was a click as the line hung up.

            Mark flipped the phone shut and continued driving, silently reviewing his plans.  As he reached the arena, he glanced at one of the signs covering the doors, advertising WrestleMania XX.  "You're going down, Liz…  At the biggest show of them all for you."  He stared at the poster for a while, and then exited his car, heading toward the arena.  "Four weeks," he murmured softly, approaching the entrance, a smile on his face. 

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

            Rebecca Michaels shut her cell phone quickly, a new agenda on her mind.  To her husbands inquiring look, she nodded her head and said, "Work."  Shawn paused, but nodded as well, leaning back on the couch.  Rebecca sighed, and then looked at him as he began to speak. 

"I know you've said it a couple of times, that you don't want me to go back to wrestling, but I have to.  Here…you've caught me up on everything.  I don't feel like I'm missing anything here.  But…there's a whole chunk of my life that I have no clue about, just waiting, out…there…"

            "I figured you'd say that," Rebecca said quietly, looking down at her hands.  "You still have a match scheduled for tonight, against..." her voice suddenly got small.  "Edge."

            "Edge?" Shawn was surprised that he could remember a face.  "I know him…he's a nice guy," he commented, and then looked at his wife, frowning at the uncomfortable look on her face.  He wrapped an arm around her shoulders gently, "Rebecca?  What's wrong?"

            "He's…" she paused, closing her eyes.  "…not such a nice guy."

            Shawn tensed up, his grip on her shoulders becoming tighter without him noticing.  "What did he do to you?" he asked; his tone sharp.  He may have known Edge as a good guy, but in the wrestling business people change to fit their momentary needs. 

            That and the fact that he didn't remember the last few years of his life.

            Rebecca continued staring at her hands.  "After you went on a tour, I went and stayed at his house for a while—you two were good friends then, and you didn't want me to be alone…" she took a shaky breath.  "He hit me."

            "THAT BASTARD!" Shawn's voice rang out through the room as he nearly leapt off the couch, fury in his eyes.  Rebecca fought a smile, and instead looked up at him, eyes wide.  "I'll kill him," he muttered crossly, heading for the door. 

            "Shawn, don't!  He can wait 'til tonight!" Rebecca shouted after him.  The door slammed, the noise echoing through the house.  Rebecca grinned, falling onto the couch.  She knew Shawn would wait for tonight. 

            And then Edge would receive the beating of his lifetime.