On her way back to the locker room, Kiara received more stares then she was ever used to or comfortable with. Word spread fast that she and John would be fighting the Undertaker that night. Some of the looks were sympathetic while others were mocking except, she suspected, those were more for John then her.
She pushed open the door and Nidia looked up at her sympathetically. "I heard about your match, that's tough," she commented.
"Well I personally think you deserve it after trying to interfere in the match on Sunday," Torrie said snidely. She was lying on the couch with her feet propped up, reading a magazine.
"Mind your own business," Nidia snapped before Kiara could come back with something much more offensive. "Just worry about our match tonight," she cracked her knuckles. "Because I feel like whooping Barbie's ass."
Torrie rolled her eyes. "Sure thing Hon." She studied the two girls in front of and then smirked. "You know, the two of you are more alike than you think."
"What are you talking about?" Kiara asked, curiosity getting the best of her.
"Well you both picked complete winners to date." She turned to Nidia first. "Your boyfriend is nothing but trailer trash and your boyfriend, Kiara, still deserves to be in jail for what he did."
"He was acquitted," Nidia responded instantaneously. "And you know that Torrie."
"That's what he told you," she responded. "But you know his parents are rich. They could've paid off anybody in a heartbeat, especially to protect their image."
Kiara stared in shock at nothing as the two women argued in front of her.
"Just shut the hell up," Nidia warned. "Before I let some of your skeletons out of the closet."
Torrie's face paled beneath her tan complexion and she stood up. "Fine," she said simply, and then turned to Kiara. "Just be careful around John; it wouldn't be good for the WWE's image." And with that she left the room, leaving behind questions, suspicions, and a really uneasy feeling.
Nidia began inching towards the door until she was stopped by the glare Kiara was giving her. "I suppose you want to talk, huh?"
"Oh just about simple stuff. The weather maybe, or I was thinking about getting a dog. Your thoughts?" She asked sarcastically and pointed towards the couch. "You need to sit down and tell me everything that you know, right now." Nidia sat down but she didn't start talking right away. "Any day now," Kiara probed.
"It's really, truly not my place to say anything," Nidia said simply. "Torrie just did it because she's a first class bitch. But John is kind of my friend and I wouldn't feel right just blurting out stuff about him behind his back."
"You're one hundred percent my friend," Kiara shot back. "I think I deserve some honesty because of that."
"It's not like I'm being dishonest."
"But you're leaving me completely out in the dark!" Kiara exclaimed. "Friends aren't supposed to do that! I'm walking around with him backstage while people are hurling insults left and right and I'm there like a moron because I don't have the slightest idea of what's going on. Do you think that's fair to me? That everybody knows what's going on except for me?"
"No, it's not fair," Nidia agreed. "But I'm sure that John will tell you when he thinks the time is right. He never told anybody backstage but Vince thought we should know regardless."
Kiara slumped her shoulders. "John doesn't tell me anything though."
"He will," Nidia assured. "Just give him some time. Now don't you have a match to get ready for?"
Roughly forty-five minutes later, Kiara met up with John behind the curtain as they got ready to enter for the match.
"Where were you?" John asked curiously.
"I was taking my time getting ready for what seems to be my very last match," Kiara said, forcing it to come out as a joke.
"Oh. It seemed like you were ignoring me or something."
She shook her head but refused to look him in the eyes. "I could never do something like that."
The stage director signaled them out as John's music started to play and they walked out in front of the audience.
"You look so serious," he joked once they got to the ring. The two were in the corner, waiting for the Undertaker to make his entrance. He draped his arm over the turnbuckle and his fingers brushed her shoulder.
She flinched instinctively as Torrie's words came back to her: just be careful around John; it wouldn't be good for the WWE's image.
"And you're jumpy too, what a good combination."
Kiara looked at him and smiled nervously and then jumped slightly when the Undertaker came into the ring and just stared at the two of them silently. John took off his jersey and threw it into the crowd where a group of about six girls looked ready to start fighting over it. He gave them both a menacing glare before removing his jacket and hat and handing them to the stagehand, scurrying around outside the ring.
"You know Tazz, Kiara almost cost Taker the win this past Sunday at Judgment Day," Michael Cole said loudly.
"Yeah, but she got beat by her boyfriend instead," Tazz replied. "Go figure."
"That was accidental."
"Sure thing Cole. Whatever you say."
"I want her in the ring first," the Undertaker said, pointing a finger at her.
John stepped in front of her protectively. "You may want her," he said. "But you've got me instead."
Kiara stepped through the ropes and rested her arms on the top turnbuckle. The referee called for the start of the match and the bell rang.
John started off with a quick advantage, hitting Taker with a flurry of punches ending with a snap suplex. The audience was mixed—some booing for the mistreatment of the legend and others cheering just because they enjoyed looking at John—whatever.
About halfway through the match (with Kiara still on the outside because John refused to tag her in), she looked up as the audience started booing loudly.
Paul Heyman was swaggering down the ramp, a smile on his face as he looked to the ring. Kiara looked at him warily as he got closer still and the referee, unsure about what was going on, leaned over the ropes, gesturing for him to leave ringside. She was too busy paying attention to the scuffle between the two that she didn't notice the wrestler emerging from the audience until he was already in the ring.
John's back was turned, attacking the Undertaker in the corner, when somebody put a hand on his shoulder and whirled him around. He found himself face to face with Brock Lesnar, who looked less than happy with him. John started to fight off Brock and when the Undertaker regained composure, he tried to fight both of them off.
Kiara tried yelling at them to get the attention off of John but, as expected, they didn't glance her way as they continued pummeling her partner. Brock's manager bypassed the referee and was walking towards Kiara with an unreadable look on his face. She got into the ring, figuring she'd rather be in the ring with the three wrestlers than outside with Paul and rushed at Brock. She grabbed his arm before he could hit John again. He stopped what he was doing and looked at her. He looked down at his arm and then back up at her face, smirked and pushed her back.
The move surprised her so much that she let go and was sent sprawling across the ring. She put her arm up to grab the top rope for support and was shocked when Paul grabbed her arm and snapped a handcuff around her wrist.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" She snapped. She pulled her arm back quickly and he lost his balance and tumbled off of the apron. The crowd laughed and before she had time to think about what she was doing, she grabbed the other handcuff in her hand and rushed over to Brock again. She jumped on his back and began hitting him with the metal. He stumbled briefly and then flipped her over his back so she landed on the mat, the wind knocked out of her. Brock grabbed her arm and dragged her over to the rope furthest away from John. He clicked the other handcuff around the middle rope and rejoined the Undertaker.
Kiara strained against the cold metal and winced when she felt it cutting into her skin. She watched helplessly as the Undertaker brought a chair into the ring.
"Don't do it, please," she pleaded with the Dead Man. "I'm sorry for trying to interfere just don't hurt him."
"How cute," he mocked.
Brock lifted up John's head and the Undertaker opened the chair enough to slip his head through.
"I'm going up," Brock said, motioning towards the turnbuckles. He began climbing the nearest one as the Undertaker dragged John's near-unconscious body over.
Kiara covered her eyes as Brock got ready to jump when some familiar, but entirely unexpected music, hit, causing the two to turn towards the ramp, their attention off of John for now.
Kurt Angle was racing to the ring. He slid in and walked right up to the Undertaker and Brock and was saying something to them that nobody else could hear, gesturing heatedly first towards John, Kiara and then back at the two. He walked over to John and, with his back turned on the two, looked at Kiara and winked. Kurt took the chair off from around his neck and Brock looked angry.
"What do you think you're doing Angle?" He demanded.
"I've got something better in mind," Kurt assured. He propped John's leg on the bottom rope and held up the chair, getting ready to slam it down. The audience screamed in indignation and without warning, Kurt spun around and slammed Brock upside the head with the metal chair. The Undertaker scowled and Kurt dropped the chair, kicked him in the stomach and DDTed him right on the chair.
Kurt rolled out of the ring and approached Paul, who was still lying on the outside of the ring, and grabbed the keys that fell from his pockets. He unlocked the handcuff around Kiara's wrist and left the other one hanging off of the rope.
She rushed over to where John was still laying on the mat, blood dripping from a small cut on his forehead, and helped him up into a sitting position. He waved away the EMTs that gathered around him and instead allowed Kurt and Kiara to help him from the ring. Kiara struggled under the near dead weight as he put one arm around her shoulders and the other around Kurt's. She looked over his head at Kurt, who had an unreadable expression on his face and as soon as they got backstage, John was rushed off to the medical room while Kiara and Kurt hung back.
"Hey," she said quickly as he started to walk away. He paused but didn't turn around to face her. "Thanks for your help out there."
"Yeah well, nobody deserves that," he said. "Not even John." And without another word, he walked away, leaving her to contemplate both that and the gossip she heard earlier, trying to put together the puzzle that was John Cena.