Chapter 9

"Housekeeping." Taker snorted, wondering why she didn't have a spyhole or something.

New York was not the safest city, ever... he hated it almost as much as Chicago. Slums for the most part and the fact that he was here... obviously, there was something wrong with him. She had seen where Taker lived; he figured it was only fair he saw where she laid her head when she wasn't on the road. So far, he wasn't that impressed.

It was her turn to snort, amber eyes narrowing to slits. "Mother fucker, there's no housekeeping in this APARTMENT building."

Did this idiot really think he'd get inside her apartment that easily? Tahlia wasn't born yesterday and clicked the trigger back again, making sure the sound went through the paper-thin door. She dared whoever it was to try bursting in.

"In case you're deaf, that's a gun and it'll blow your fucking head off the moment you step through my door. So, if I were you, I'd leave or else you'll find yourself in an early grave." It was the only warning she'd give.

His response was to drag his rather long fingernails down the door, smirking and made sure his body was clear of the door, just in case she did decide to blow a hole through it. Taker wondered if she'd heed common sense and know that, even if he was someone wanting to break in or hurt her, that she'd still be subject to laws of murder as he hadn't actually tried forcing his way in. Yet. Tahlia was... interesting when she wasn't being his little submissive.

"Open up." He growled, just to see what else she would say.

"Fuck off, dick!" Tahlia retorted, having an excellent aim since she'd gone to shooting ranges whenever she had time off from wrestling.

It was a hobby of hers, though the only gun she owned was the one currently in her hand. She couldn't tremble, fighting back the fear and wouldn't pull the trigger unless this moron tried to force his way inside. Self-defense she would go down for, nothing more. It was a home invasion and she had every right to defend herself, keeping a steady aim directly at the door. Depending how tall the individual was, Tahlia would either nail him in the heart or just above it in the collarbone. Either way, he'd go down.

This was amusing and he leaned his head against the wall, keeping clear of that door. He drummed his fingertips along the flimsy wood and sighed impatiently. "Tahlia..." Taker let taunting seep into his tone. "That's rather rude, wouldn't you say?" If she couldn't place his voice, him knowing her name was probably going to rattle her. "Open up, my delicious little psychopath." He wouldn't try opening that door, not doubting for a second she'd shoot.

Smart girl; she definitely needed the protection and he was pleased she had taken steps to protect and defend herself in this hellhole of a city.

This idiot knew her name? What the hell? Tahlia felt her eyes widen, feeling her hand trembling on the gun and immediately took a deep breath, knowing there was only way one out. Her window on the fire escape, which was rickety as hell and would probably collapse under her weight. Who was on the other side of her door? Tahlia was torn between making a run for it or opening the door to find out and possibly blow his head off. Something told her to open the door, that voice sounded oddly familiar, but she couldn't place it. It had to be someone she knew personally because she'd only given her name out to those she knew and conversed with.

"Just tell me who the hell you are and what you want. I'm not opening it until you reveal yourself." She didn't lower the gun for an instant, trying like hell to keep the tremor out of her voice.

"I want you to let me in. You already know who I am." Taker said reasonably, knowing well when that door did finally open, she would either shoot him, kick him in the balls or do both. And he would totally deserve it because he was toying with her. "Open the door for your Lord of Darkness, Tahlia." His dark baritone was teasing, with a very evil lilt to it. "Let me in..."

"Taker?"

Tahlia felt her jaw drop, lowering the gun and immediately unbolted the lock on the door to open it. Sure enough, there he stood in all his glory with amusement glowing green eyes and a smirk. What the hell was he doing here? She immediately put the safety on the gun and tossed it behind her on the couch, shaking her head at how stupid she acted.

"I could've really hurt you or possibly killed you." She muttered, taking his hand and pulled him inside, shutting the door to put the bolt back into place before turning to face him. "What are you doing here? And stop smirking, scaring me half to death isn't remotely funny, SIR." It took a lot of resolve not to knock the smirk off his face, knowing she'd have every reason to do it.

"You can have one punch." He offered, seeing the rage brewing in those eyes. Taker had terrified her and he knew it, not planning on apologizing for it because it had been amusing for him. "As for killing me, unlikely. You would have had to aim at an angle to clear the door." Because even he was not dumb enough to stand near one when the person behind it had a gun. "Come on, precious," Taker tapped his jaw, lowering himself to her level, eyes still showing his amusement. "Make it count."

"You're insane." Tahlia could only stare at this man and bewilderment, tempted to take him up on his offer. He was taunting her, baiting her to hit him. Again, she had to ask herself what the HELL? "I'm not a precious anything, don't call me that."

She did take the punch…right in his shoulder as hard as she could, feeling marginally better. Then she had to wonder why he was here at her tiny studio apartment in the middle of winter in New York City. Did she miss something with the Ministry? If Paul didn't inform her, she would hurt the fat man and walked into the makeshift kitchen where her pizza was now cold.

She could punch, he'd give her that and rolled his shoulder to test out the pain. Nothing that would be a bother. Taker took a look around, revolving in his place to study her apartment. When he thought apartment, he thought a few rooms, maybe a balcony or something. This was… he wasn't sure how to describe this. Didn't she make enough money to afford better?

"So... this is your... prison?" He asked after a moment, frowning.

"I'm never home."

Tahlia shrugged her shoulders, not thinking this place as a prison so much as convenient for what she needed. She wasn't materialistic and didn't need a lot to satisfy her. Compared to Taker's mansion, it looked like she lived in poverty, but in reality, Tahlia was very well off. She had plenty of money to move wherever she wanted, but never had any time to do it.

"And is that judgment I hear in your voice? Maybe I should call you Judgy from now on." She smirked, grabbing beer out of the fridge and tossed him a can, cracking hers open. Why was he here in the first place? Tahlia was under the impression everyone had 2 days off and didn't think Taker would step foot near her…prison. "It's safe to drink, I promise."

Taker was a snob and would be the first to admit it. "I am judging." He agreed, cracking the beer after checking the label to make sure it wasn't some feminine, watered down crap. Taker shook his head, his loose hair fanning around him. "This place is... interesting."

He shouldn't insult her cell; that was rude, but he honestly hadn't pegged her for someone who used their place as a truck stop. His home was an investment, eventually Taker would retire there, so he saw no reason to waste money on a temporary space, which... this had to be. Also... a studio apartment was a novel concept; he got the idea. Cram as many people into a building as possible since it was meant to provide enough housing, when in reality, it was odd.

"I know you are, Judgy."

Tahlia grabbed a cold slice of pizza and popped it in her mouth, walking past him again to sit on her bed. The couch was next to it, but she preferred her bed since it was usually just her. After swallowing down a bite of pizza and a long swig of her beer, which was Budweiser, and moved her head to the song currently playing through the television.

"I didn't miss anything with the Ministry, did I?" Taker shook his head and that made Tahlia feel better, sighing with relief before taking another bite out of her pizza. "I figured you'd go back to the mansion…"

Her apartment, as it was, was sparsely decorated and she had outfitted it with the obvious necessities. Basics. "So, I honestly expected something different." He confessed, eyeballing her furniture and wondered if it would hold his weight, deciding he wouldn't test it and sat down on the floor instead. His back was against the wall, his long legs stretched out before him. "I don't know why though." Maybe his poster or something was what was missing.

"You act like I'm gonna bite you or something. That floor is hard as a damn rock and your ass is gonna be sore if you don't get up. Sit next to me since you came all this way to…visit." Tahlia patted the spot beside her on the mattress, which had a clean white sheet on it. She'd put it as soon as she pulled it from the wall to set on the floor in front of the television. "What were you expecting exactly? A posh townhouse or no wait, a penthouse? With white carpeting and shiny floors and a lot of space?" She scoffed, rolling her eyes and stood up to toss her empty beer can into the garbage before taking her place on the bedding. "I'll move eventually…if I can find the time to do it. And find a place I actually wanna move to."

There was no way Taker would sit on anything that came out of a wall, in a paper-thin studio apartment, in the slums of New York. "I'm fine here."

He had sat, and slept, on worse. Not always being the wrestling Superstar he was these days, he'd had to pay his dues and live like a tramp. Thank the stars he didn't have to anymore.

"Black carpeting, gold accent and a bed large enough for us to roll around in."

"Subtle."

Tahlia shook her head, turning crimson again and had to look away at the TV until her face returned to its normal color. He wasn't comfortable here, that much was obvious. Hell, she didn't know he would drop in on her like this. Tahlia had no idea what to say to him or do, wondering if the reason he did come was to get in her panties. Not that she would mind it, the man had haunted her dreams ever since that kiss in his hot tub under the water. It was possibly one of the most passionate kisses she'd ever experienced in her life and, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't forget about it. Not to mention she'd stripped naked in front of him, so he knew exactly what kind of body she said from head to toe…literally.

"Well, where are you staying while you're here? You don't like my place, so take me somewhere else. And then we can 'roll around' as you so eloquently put it, Judgy."

It wasn't that Taker was uncomfortable; he was just a bit lackluster at her digs. She lived like she was one of the guys and that made him snort at the irony. "I'll take you wherever I wish. Including this hard floor." He informed her, a hint of something predatory entering his eyes. "And then you'll change my name from Judgy to God."

Tahlia wondered if Taker was just all talk or if he would actually do what he said, tempted to challenge him. He came here for a reason and still hadn't divulged it, which was a little bothersome. Taker never did anything without a reason and purpose, he was a methodical man. Maybe he was waiting for her to make a move; it made sense the more she thought about it.

"Definitely not this hard floor." He was out of his mind to think she'd actually want to be screwed on this hard-wooden floor that had no give whatsoever. The building was extremely old, falling apart around the seams, but luckily her studio was still in fairly good condition. "I offered." Laying on the bed, Tahlia stared up at the ceiling with her black purple streaked hair fanned around her, taking it out of the tie she had it in and shut her eyes, sighing in contentment.

He was there because he had wanted to see how she lived when she wasn't around him or the Ministry. Taker wanted to see the fiery yet submissive Tahlia in her natural environment and, apparently, she lived a lot differently than his unnamed, unacknowledged until now expectations. Pushing himself to his feet, he stretched, cracking his back and stared down at her. She looked so... vivid against the white of her sheets and he took a moment to appreciate the view.

"Why do you draw my attention so..." He mused, running a tongue along his bottom lip as he contemplated it.

Maybe he should just screw her and get it out of his system.

Amber eyes slowly opened to stare back up at him, tilting her head slightly and shrugged at his question. "Because I'm a woman, you're a man and I'm following you willingly. You have power over me and that can be very erotic, if used right. Then again, I could be way off. Only you know the answer to that question, Taker."

Truthfully, she didn't see herself in the same league as him. Look how he lived compared to her. Granted, she did have the money to probably get her own mansion just like his, but for what? She had nobody to share it with, nobody in her life to care about her. She'd been alone since she was 15, leaving home to pursue one dream and that was becoming a professional wrestler.

"So, are you gonna tell me why you're here or keep beating around the bush?"

Tracing a long finger along his bottom lip, Taker contemplated her almost broodily. "Boredom." He answered almost grudgingly. "I wanted to see how you lived, as you know, I'm not impressed. But I am... Judgy." As she had eloquently put it. "Are you safe here? Do you worry about being attacked?" His acidic eyes strayed to her gun still on the couch. "Have you ever had to use that, Tahlia?" And why was that thought rather hot?

She smiled at his concern for her wellbeing and shrugged, looking around her prison before her eyes landed on him again. "Probably not and I'm not home enough to be attacked." She stood up from the mattress and stepped off of it onto the hard-wooden floor, still wearing her jeans and a plain white t-shirt, nothing fancy. It clashed with her hair, but Tahlia wasn't bothered by her appearance and could care less what people thought. "Let's just say I've had to fire off some warning shots and leave it at that." She winked, sliding her fingers down his arm until her hand clasped his, their eyes meeting. "Worried about me, Judgy?"

Taker pulled her down into his lap before she had a chance to blink, settling her with her legs draped over his waist, facing him and frowned. "You're a member of my Ministry, of course I'm worried."

He knew he was sexist because he didn't worry one bit about Bradshaw, Farooq, or Mideon because they were men. Her amber eyes were considering him and he wondered if she was reaching that conclusion. A sexist pig he may be, but it was still sweet nonetheless he worried about her. What was happening between them? Taker had a softer side to him he didn't show to anyone else except her, but what made her so special? Why was he curious about her above the rest? Tahlia could see problems brewing with Mideon in the future if they kept going down this road, not sure if she wanted to deal with the fanatic.

"Then you should help your minion be safe." She murmured, pushing the leather duster off his shoulders he wore to pool bunch against the couch and slid her hands up his muscular arms. "So how do you want to do that, my dark Lord?"