Chapter 20
Did you get any info out of him yet?
Macaria felt like snapping her phone in half, gritting her teeth and didn't bother responding. She had to go to the far outskirts of Knoxville, Tennessee in order to find a shabby motel that had a vacant room. After paying a ridiculous room rental fee, Macaria took her key and went to her room, dropping her luggage on the carpeted floor. At least the bed looked clean, though she wouldn't be shining any blacklights around the room for fear of finding stains and other things. This would have to do for the night and, tomorrow, she would be on her way home for 2 days off.
Don't ignore me, Macaria!
NO, I DIDN'T AND I'M NOT FINDING OUT ANY INFO ON HIM FOR YOU! DO YOUR JOB YOURSELF! Macaria was above caring about repercussions from Aya at this point, responding in all caps and tossed her phone on the nightstand, kicking her shoes off.
All she kept replaying in her mind was Dean's hateful words toward her about only screwing him for her job. She wasn't a whore and didn't sleep with just any guy. Sleeping with Dean hadn't been the smartest decision in life, but she had thrown caution to the wind, thinking he wasn't a huge douchebag. After tonight, even though he'd probably been talking out of anger, the way she viewed him was being no better than every other man on the planet. It was so disappointing because she really thought Dean was different. Tears spilled from her eyes and dripped into her hair as she lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Why did her stomach hurt? Why did her heart feel like it was breaking into pieces?
There was only one explanation and one answer to those questions. "I fell for him." She whispered to the silence of the room and shut her eyes tightly, that revelation making the pain and anguish worse.
Her phone suddenly lit up and vibrated on the nightstand, her watery vision looking up at it, contemplating if she should answer it. Sniffling, more tears slipped down her cheeks as she grabbed it to look at the caller ID and saw who it was, her heart breaking all over again. It was Dean. She didn't know if answering was the best idea and wiped the tears from her eyes, clutching her phone tighter in her hand. Macaria let it go to voicemail and finally answered when he called a third time straight. Obviously, he wasn't getting the message she wasn't in the mood to talk.
"What?" She answered, hating how badly her voice cracked and mentally cursed.
"Where are you?" His deep, gritty voice resonated in her ear and sent shivers throughout her body.
Shutting her eyes, Macaria had to stay strong and stood up from the bed, coughing a few times. "Does it matter?" Her head hurt as she began unraveling her braid, which was something he normally did for her.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"You made it perfectly clear how you feel about me at the arena, Ambrose. Or did you already forget what you said to me, accused me of?" Macaria remarked coldly, proud of herself for standing her ground instead of melting into a puddle at his feet.
Dean rubbed the back of his neck, knowing he only said what he did in the heat of the moment. "Look, you were pushing me to talk about my past and…I went off. I admit it. I went off because it's not easy talking about my past…I didn't mean what I said…" Part of him did wonder why she had slept with him so willingly, though. It was part of his constant paranoia, not knowing who to trust, ever since being stabbed in the back by someone he used to consider a brother.
"Didn't mean what you said, huh? So you don't think I'm fucking you because of my job?" Macaria could FEEL his hesitation and shook her head sadly, already having her answer. "That's what I thought."
"Would you just…"
"Dean, I thought you were different." Fresh tears formed and began falling down her already streaked cheeks. "I don't just jump into bed with any guy. And I thought you were different…"
"Macaria…"
She sniffled, rubbing her temples and leaned her head back against the headboard, trying her best to stop the tears. "For the record, I didn't tell Aya a single thing you've told me. She kept asking me and I never once told her anything. Tonight, she asked me to ask you about your past and I was gonna do it, but then I saw how bothered you were and decided not to do it. I only asked you to talk about what was eating you up because it's not healthy to keep shit bottled up. Then you accused me of fucking you because of my job. I don't fuck anyone for a job, I have more self-respect than that." A hint of anger laced her tone.
Dean hated hearing how thick and croaked her voice was, knowing she was crying because of him. Those tears she shed were because of his temper. "Come back to me. Let's talk and work this out. I don't like you being by yourself, Maca…" Not while they were on the road with the Authority on a rampage going into Survivor Series.
"Come back to you and do what? Open my legs so you can fuck me?" She tossed the exact words he'd spat at her earlier right back at him and hoped they tasted good. "No, I don't think that's a good idea. I'm taking these next 2 days to myself to reflect and get my head on straight. I'll see you on Friday for the media for Survivor Series."
"Maca…"
"Good night, Dean." Macaria pressed the end button and set her alarm, so she would get up in time to catch her flight home.
"DAMN IT!" Dean growled, tossing his phone on the bed and took the beer in his hand, tossing it against the wall as hard as he could. "FUCK!"
"Momma, do you have to go back on the road?" Neela asked softly, being tucked into bed by her mother and received a kiss to her forehead.
"Yeah, baby, I do." It broke Nyla's heart every time her daughter asked this question. It never got easier. "But guess what? I have another whole 5 days off coming up next week and I'm spending all of them with you." She tapped Neela's nose, making the little girl smile.
Neela's mystic blues lit up. "Really?! Grammie and Poppie are making a HUGE Thanksgiving dinner and they were hoping you'd be home. I'm so glad, Momma." She hugged her mother tightly around the neck before settling back down. "I can't wait for my Fall break to start." She only had this week to go and starting Monday, she was on break for a straight week.
Nyla chuckled, nuzzling her daughter's head and breathed her in, not believing these past 2 days flew by as fast as they did. There was never enough time with Neela; Nyla already planned on telling WWE to shove their contract renewal up their backsides when her 3 years was up. She had to be home more with her daughter and would bring her on the road, if it wasn't for the Authority.
"I love you, Nee Nee, never doubt that." She whispered, watching her daughter's eyes slowly close and kissed her forehead again before reluctantly leaving the room.
Just as Nyla walked into her own room to finish packing, her phone went off and Nyla didn't recognize the number at all. Something told her to answer it. "Hello?"
"Nyla, it's…Randy." His voice sounded off and for good reason – he was still recovering from the beating the Authority gave him.
She shut her eyes, suddenly recognizing the number she had deleted out of her phone years ago. "What do you want, Randy? You sound…weird." That wasn't the word she wanted to use. "Are you…okay?"
"Recovering, yeah. Listen, I called to warn you about the Authority. We go way back and I know what they've been doing and forcing on you." Randy coughed a little, his head still hurting from the curb stomp he'd taken on the steel steps from that piss ant Seth Rollins. "Whatever they have on you, get rid of it."
That was not possible. "I can't." She whispered, settling down on the bed and could feel the tears welling in her eyes. "And even if I could, I wouldn't."
"What is it? Stephanie wouldn't elaborate on it with me…" Randy had a sinking feeling it had to do with him and had wracked his brain, trying to figure it out. "Whatever it is, you have to stand against them, Nyla. They will use you up and then get rid of you and go back on their word anyway."
Nyla knew he was only doing this because the Authority had kicked him out and put him on the shelf for a little while. Long enough for Survivor Series to come and go, with no distractions for Seth. Randy never did anything out of the kindness of his heart and she had learned that the hard way. All he wanted from her was a good time and it resulted in her having a broken heart and needing time off to have a baby she knew he didn't want. Neela was Randy Orton's daughter. That was her deep, dark secret Stephanie held over her head, threatening to expose it to Randy. As far as she was concerned, Randy was not father material, never had been and never would be.
"Don't worry about it, Randy. Just…get better and focus on yourself. Good night." Nyla ended the call abruptly and turned her cell phone off, not wanting anymore calls for the rest of the night.
She had a 5 AM flight to catch to St. Louis, Missouri, where Randy Orton lived, conveniently enough. He wouldn't be at the show, however, not unless he managed to make it inside the arena undetected, which was highly unlikely. Sighing as she laid down in bed, Nyla said some prayers and could only hope tomorrow night this nightmare ended with the Authority.
"The Lunatic Fringe has come unhinged!"
"Somebody's gotta stop this lunatic!"
Dean had made good on his promise to the world to hurt Bray Wyatt and that was exactly what he did. Bray had brought a steel chair into the ring near the end of the match and Dean had taken it, blasting him in the gut and then back. That started a whole slew of torture for Bray as Dean literally BURIED him under chairs, tables and finally pulled out a ladder to set up in the ring. He ascended to the top and stared down at the carnage, stretching his arms out while breathing heavily. It had been a war between them; they had amazing chemistry in the ring together and, even though Bray won via disqualification, Dean was the true victor.
Macaria watched all of this with wide eyes from the back, alongside Aya, both completely enthralled with both the match and aftermath of it. Dean had poured all of his sorrow, pain, anguish, anger, sadness…every negative emotion had been shown in the match. It had been funny when Dean began mocking Bray by going to the turnbuckle and flipping himself backward while hanging onto the ropes, sticking his tongue out. That was something Bray Wyatt usually did. The match was great, the fans ate it up and cheered for Dean loudly, chanting his name. This feud was far, FAR from over, though.
Throughout the past few days, Macaria hadn't said more than a few words to Dean while following him to countless media appearances to gear up for tonight's event. She didn't know what to say to him. Her 2 days off hadn't helped much because she developed the rather…racy photos they had taken together. Their sex life surrounded her and she had to go to her room a few times, just to get away from them. What was she going to do with those photos now that she and Dean were on the outs? Macaria had thought about destroying them and decided against it, crying throughout the process.
When Dean came back to his dressing room, his eyes locked on her just as hers lifted to meet his and Macaria felt her mouth go dry. He looked delectable all sweaty and hot from his match, an animalistic aura about him. Aya congratulated him on her way out the door, excusing herself to make a few phone calls, or so she said. Macaria didn't care what her boss did or who she was with as long as she did her job and showed Dean the proper respect. That left them alone for the first time since Tuesday.
The silence was deafening. Dean peeled his beater off and tossed it to the side, the sweat now glistening on his chest and all Macaria wanted to do was give him a tongue bath. This was torture for her, far more than developing their racy photos together in her apartment. Still, she wouldn't make things easy for him either, even if all she wanted to do was help him out of those tight jeans and let him screw her until they both passed out. Dean could read people pretty well and saw the desire boiling in her eyes; she still wanted him and he felt the same way about her. The arena wasn't the time or place though, not with Aya lurking around.
"Getting your own room again tonight, Maca?"
Macaria looked down at her camera to pretend to fix something on it and sighed heavily, nodding. "Yeah. I think it's for the best." She hated those words coming out of her mouth and heard his derisive snort.
"Suit yourself." Dean was too tired and agitated to fight her, refusing to beg a woman to come into his bed. "I'm taking a shower." Then, he would plop down and watch the Survivor Series match that would possibly put the Authority out of power.
Macaria heard the door to the bathroom slam shut and winced, contemplating if she'd made the right decision to get her own room or not.
"THE AUTHORITY WINS! THE AUTHORITY WINS, THANKS TO BIG SHOW TURNING ON CENA!"
Nyla gaped at the monitor, covering her mouth with her hand and could NOT believe what just happened. The Big Show had turned his back on Team Cena by knocking the leader of the team out cold. WHAT THE HELL? Stephanie and Hunter were ecstatic at ringside while Dolph Ziggler was left all alone, picked apart systematically by the Authority's dogs. Seth had gotten the ultimate victory by pinning Ziggler to eliminate the final man on Team Cena. Tears streamed down Nyla's face, feeling as though her world was crashing down around her. That big 500-pound asshole had just cost Team Cena the win! The Authority remained in power and absolutely nothing would change, it would only get worse from here on out.
Before Seth could come drag her away back to the hotel for celebratory sex, Nyla packed her things and headed out, needing a drink. She turned the corner and bumped into another woman with a camera in hand, eyes wide at who it was. Dean Ambrose's photographer. Nyla had never asked what her name was, but it was obvious the woman was annoyed.
"Sorry," Macaria mumbled, recognizing the woman as being the scriptwriter for the Authority. Dean had warned her to stay away from Nyla Miller. "Nyla, right?"
"Yeah…you've heard of me?" Nyla wasn't surprised at her affirmed nod and swallowed hard. "Probably all bad shit, I'm guessing."
Macaria would not lie to her and nodded. "Your boyfriend is screwing my boss." She wasn't stupid and knew Aya hadn't stopped sleeping with Seth.
"Believe me, I know." Nyla muttered, honestly not caring about Seth sexing it up with the journalist because at least he was occupied and leaving her alone.
"You're okay with that?"
"Don't really have a choice in the matter." Nyla couldn't elaborate on what that meant, not to a complete stranger and stepped aside. "Nice meeting you…"
"Yeah, you too." Macaria watched her walk off dejectedly, tilting her head and wondered why Dean would warn her away from a woman that carried herself so sadly. "Hey, Nyla, wait up!" She jogged to catch up with the scriptwriter, shouldering her camera equipment and the amber-eyed woman turned to face her.
"Yeah?"
"Look, I probably shouldn't be doing this, but…you look like you could use a drink. And I could use one too. Let's go get a drink together and vent about our shitty lives." Macaria suggested, placing a hand on Nyla's shoulder and felt her heartbreak at the tears in the woman's eyes. "Come on, my treat. I'll pay all night long."
"Now how fair is that? I'll pay half of the tab." Nyla countered, not believing this woman had just befriended her when she was linked to Dean Ambrose. "Are you sure you wanna do this?"
Macaria nodded without hesitation and wrapped an arm around the woman's shoulders. "Wouldn't have offered if I didn't, Nyla."
"I didn't catch your name."
"Macaria – call me Maca or Caria, if you want."
"Okay, Caria."
Together, the women left the arena and headed to the nearest bar to knock back a few drinks.
