It was a little after midnight. I shouldn't be here right now. Sitting at in this shitty bar nursing a beer in whatever city this was. I had lost track of of everything around 2 hours ago to be honest. I just didn't want to back to the hotel. Back to him. Especially considering that he had been pissed off since this morning about something, but now seeing as how I'd ignored his phone calls- all 26 of them- and it was past midnight meaning I was 4 hours late, there would be hell to pay if I went back tonight. It would be way worse tomorrow when I would be forced to face him ( a girls gotta shower not to mention all my shit is in his room, his choice not mine) however I didn't care right now. He was gunna beat my ass either way so what did one night of freedom really mean in the scheme of things. My phone vibrated against my thigh and I slid it out of my pocket ready to ignore what I was sure was a another text from my crazy boyfriend. My stomach flipped as I read the text. Not him. Instead it was from my safe place. The only person that I actually felt happy around and safe like nothing could touch me. When had I texted him? Oh well I needed that tonight. Apparently I had texted him to ask if I could come see him tonight, I didn't think I had drank enough to forget texting someone though. I threw some cash down on the bar to cover my tab before calling a cab.
The cool night air hit me in the face the moment I stepped out of the hot and stuffy bar and onto the pavement to wait for the cab. The hotel was only 15 minutes away. Earlier when I'd escaped from my boyfriend I hadn't felt like wandering all over the city so I'd googled places relatively close by to the hotel. Reaching into my bra I pulled out a black lighter and from my purse a pack of cigarettes. So much for cutting down I thought as I lit one up feeling my whole body relax as I took that first drag. The effects of the nicotine combines with the alcohol I had in my system felt fucking wonderful. My boyfriend also hated that I smoked. He hated practically everything about me. It wasn't like that in the beginning but I realized a long time ago that he had been pretending back then. He had stopped pretending to be a decent human being 2 months into our relationship. Then the real monster had come out to play and I'd been dealing with that ever since. I've been with him 7 months. And yes if that was the case why stay and deal with the bullshit that I have, why not just break up with him and leave? Well that wasn't really an option per se. I didn't see him letting me go. Ever. He wanted to control me and the only way to do that was to keep me chained to him. Besides I would never be free completely. We worked together, there was no way I would be able to avoid him.
I threw my cigarette to the ground finished just as a cab pulled up and stopped in front of me. I opened the door and got into the back seat nodded at the driver telling him the name of the hotel. In no time at all we had arrived. I paid him before I cautiously made my way into the lobby of the hotel. Instead of taking the elevators I chose the stairwell. There was of a chance of running into my boyfriend this way. He always took the elevator unless he was working out very unlikely at this hour. By the time I made it to the 9th floor I was gasping a lil bit for air. Unlike my co workers I did not step into the squared circle every night to wrestle. No no, when I got into the ring all I had to do was announce the match and the competitors. I was Lilian Garcias replacement since she left to have her baby. I didn't bother to look around before I walked down the hallway because my boyfriend's room was on the 5th floor. I was safe for now anyways.
~come open the door.~ I hit send. I heard some shuffling and a moment later the door opened and I slipped through into the hotel room. No sooner had the door clicked shut, I was immediately pulled into his very firm chest with his arms wrapped around my shoulders. I breathed in his scent my face pressed against his chest and I squeezed him tightly. He was seriously the only thing in my life that was keeping me together at this point. I felt him press a kiss to my head as he pulled away making his way over to the couch leading me by the hand.
"So what happened Shay? I thought you'd be with him by now seeing as it's 1:06 in the morning." Mark said to me his deep voice washing over my ears. I rolled my eyes and looked at the floor. I heard him sigh.
"What did he do this time?" His voice had lowered signalling that he was trying to remain calm for my sake.
"Nothing really. I - I just didn't want to deal with his bullshit tonight that's all. Really Mark." Mark knew about my boyfriend. However he didn't know everything. For example he didn't know who my boyfriend was. No one did. It was a secret that we'd been keeping since this shit storm started. He wanted it that way and at the time I didn't see the harm in that. How naive I had been. Mark also didn't know how bad my boyfriend was to me sometimes. I didn't want to him to know because I knew that he would get pissed off much more so than he already does when my boyfriend is concerned. I didn't want Mark to worry more and shit. It wasn't his job and I didn't want to be that whiny bitch that complained about how shitty her life was but yet didn't do anything to get out. I rarely complained about my situation to him because there wasn't a point. I hadn't thought of a way to get away from it yet so there was no point in complaining. When I was with Mark I just wanted to focus on how happy he made me feel and try to hold onto that for awhile.
"C'mere darlin." Instead of pushing the matter Mark opened his arm signalling for me to come closer. I moved so that I was snuggling into his side, my head on his shoulder and his arm curved around my body holding me to him. We watched some TV for awhile staying like that until it was time to go to sleep. This wasn't the first time that we had shared a bed. In fact it had become a ritual of sorts. Whenever my boyfriend was traveling on a different schedule than me I stayed with Mark if he was in the same tour with me. The shit I got when my bf was on a different schedule was absolutely horrid let me just say. If he wasn't then I stayed with Melina. Me and Mark didn't have a label for our relationship, I'm not really sure what the fuck it was honestly or if it could even be called a relationship. I knew that technically I was probably cheating by some peoples definitions but that didn't bother me. I had been over my boyfriend for a long time now, obviously he didn't give a fuck about me, and Mark made me feel alive again. I liked him. A lot. Probably more but that was dangerous to think about. Things were to messy to start anything up with him officially and I didn't know that he would even want anything like that from me. Maybe what we had right now, whatever that is, was good enough for him. I could live with that.
Mark walked over to his bag and handed me a clean tank top for me to change into. I gave him a small smile and went into the bathroom to change out of my current outfit and slipped into his wife beater. It came down to my knees because well he was 6'7 and I was only 5'6 and all. I stepped back out into the bedroom, noticing that he was now changed into a pair of black shorts. He was shirtless as usual. He never slept with a shirt on. I pulled the covers back getting into bed while he walked over and turned the light off. The bed dipped down under his weight as Mark got in. He wrapped his strong tatted arm around my waist, my body fitting just right against his, and I buried my face into his neck getting lost in the feeling of him. Warmth radiated from him seeping into me instantly chasing away the cold that usually resided inside of me. Just before sleep took over me it finally hit me. I loved him.

Dread. That was what I was currently feeling. And some nausea. Couldn't leave that out. I had showered already. When I had returned to "our" room he hadn't been here. I was surprised. Knowing that I didn't have much time regardless of whether he was here or not I knew that time should not be wasted. No telling when he would return. So I hopped into the shower and got dressed in a pair of black sweats and a purple tank top. I wished that it was Marks shirt, I loved wearing his shirts, it was a comfort thing.
"You stupid fucking bitch." Fear quickly spread throughout my body at the sound of his cold voice that was tight with unbridled rage. I hadn't even heard him come back. Fuck. I looked up seeing him standing by the closed door his fists clenched tightly by his sides. He looked more furious than I ever remembered seeing him before in my life and I briefly wondered if today was the day that he actually killed me.
Brock crossed the room in a matter of seconds looking hellbent on destruction. The air rushed from me as he delivered a powerful kick to my stomach forcing me to hunch over. He never left marks where anyone would see. Never on my arms or face because I was still on TV, still backstage at shows, and Brock may be fuckin psychotic but he wasn't stupid. Usually my torso took all his wrath. He viciously grabbed my by my hair pulling me back up his face super close to mine.
"Where the fuck do you get off staying out all fucking goddamn night?! Ignoring my calls! You belong to ME! You motherfucking little bitch cunt ARE YOU LISTENING?!" He harshly yanked my hair wrenching my neck back at an awkward angle. I didn't say anything which angered him more. His eyes were wild like he had snapped and I had no doubt in my mind that I was done for. I noticed that he wasn't screaming at me, that would draw unwanted attention from the other guests. He didn't need to scream however he was actually more terrifying with the normal voice level.
"Fuck you." I said softly. If this was end then I damn well was going out with a shred of dignity. I was not a pussy. I would never win against him in a physical fight so I was was going to be sarcastic and defiant instead. Brock looked shocked for a second. Shocked that I had spoken to him like that but as soon as the shock passed a whole new level of terrifying took its place. Pain exploded as he layed into me, that UFC training having paid off big time. He threw me down onto the floor his body pinning me down, his fists pounding all over my chest and stomach. A well placed knee shot landed with a sickening crack and I felt some of my ribs bust. Fractured or broke didn't matter. I wanted to scream in pain but when I went to open my mouth nothing would come out. Blackness was slowly creeping into my vision and I prayed that I would fall unconscious soon. Brock kept going, his rage seeming to only be growing more and more as he continued hard shots to my body. Just when the world was about to disappear and I was slipping away, the pain being to much for me to handle anymore his weight disappeared from on top of me. Through half lidded eyes I saw Brock on his cell phone laughing.
"Yeah sure. Alright I'll see you in a few minutes then. Heading to the gym now." He sounded so normal considering not 5 seconds ago he was in a murderous rage beating the fuck out of me. He really was insane. He shot a cold look down at me.
"Let this be a friendly reminder for you Shay. You will do exactly what I want, what I say. Don't fucking test me bitch. Not again." He turned to leave but paused looking back to me. "And tonight after your last ring announcement your to come straight back to my locker room. Don't be fucking seen going there." And with that being said Brock, my boyfriend, my tormentor was gone the sound of the door closing following his departure.
The next few hours were practically unbearable. My breathing was shallow and harsh due to the broken ribs, that really needed to be wrapped, and I could barely walk due to my entire being extremely battered. How the fuck was I supposed to make it to RAW tonight? And get into the ring? I could barely walk standing straight up, I didn't even want to think about the pain I would be in if I bent over. Some tears slid down my face. Finally I made my decision. I was leaving Brock consequences be damned. I was at least going to try to leave this hell that was our "relationship". Trying was better than doing nothing but being his rag doll any longer.
A cab dropped me off at the arena an hour before the start of RAW. I couldn't ride with Melina or anyone else because I couldn't hide my condition well enough. Hopefully after I saw the trainers and got my ribs wrapped I'd be able to fake it until the show was over. Not even I fully believed that. As expected the trainers were horrified when they peeled my shirt up to access my ribs. I lied of course on how it all happened but I knew that they wouldn't buy into it fully. From their expressions I knew that I did not want see what my skin looked liked. I felt a little bit better after my ribs were wrapped up but still I didn't think I was going to be able to get into the ring. Breathing was difficult, every move I made hurt like hell and I just wanted to cry. Plus I was terrified that I was going to see Brock. I didn't know what how I would be able to be near him after he what he did to me this time, despite the fact that he basically ignored me in public due to the whole secret thing. I hated him more than anything else in the world.
"Hey Shay." Maryse said to me as she walked past. I nodded in response a small smile being all I could muster up. My dress that I had on was looser than I normally would wear but it covered up my bandaged chest very well and I had my arms folded across my upper body in an effort to get rid of some of the pain. It wasn't really working. I walked as fast as my injuries would allow through the halls keeping my head down. I just wanted to find somewhere to be alone before I had to go out into the ring. All of a sudden something bumped into me sending shock waves of agony through my torso, making me want to throw up and I accidentally moaned in pain. Tears sprung to my eyes a few sliding down my cheeks, my breath coming in quick harsh gasps. I glanced up to see green eyes practically burning into my blue ones. I could see Mark taking in my appearance, his eyes showing an wide variety of emotions as he did so the most prominent ones being anger and concern. He didn't say anything, instead he grabbed my hand and pulled me away down the hallway. Superstars that we passed did a double take in surprise.
"Slow down. I- can't- too fast." I garbled. Talking was more difficult now that breathing was such a task. Marks pace didn't slow down at all. In fact we didn't slow down until we made it into his locker room. I wrapped my arms back around my ribs as soon as he let go of my hand, the tears still falling, I couldn't stop them. Mark paced back in forth for a couple of minutes not saying a word, part of me knowing that he was trying to desperately to reign in his emotions. I just watched him. Then he came over to me, his eyes becoming slightly softer when he made eye contact with me, and he sat down on the couch turning me by carefully grabbing my shoulders so that I was facing him.
"Shay let me see. Let me see how bad." His voice was low, like he was trying not to spook a scared animal. I only hesitated for a minute before I let my arms down by my sides. He took the bottom of my dress in his hands looking at me to make sure I was okay before he slowly lifted it up. His eyes darkened as he took in the damage that I was all over my stomach. The bandage hid most of the bruising that was there but not so much my stomach. No that was out in the open for him to stare at. He cursed under his breath his eyes burning. He dropped the dress back down and I almost started crying harder when he took my face between his hands bringing my forehead to rest on his. His eyes were shut and his breathing was faster than normal. He opened his eyes again and murmured in a gravelly voice,
"Who is he?" I whispered the name. Mark kissed my forehead and then he was practically flying away and out the door in search for Brock. I knew I wouldn't be able to keep up with him so I instead I walked at my own pace until I heard a rather loud commotion. When I arrived superstars where everywhere and in the center of the mass was Mark and Brock locked in the most animalistic battle I had seen in person. Mark was on top of Brock fists pounding into his face. Blood was on both men but I was fairly certain that it wasn't Marks. It took a team of security and some of the larger wrestlers to tear him away from Brock and he broke through them all 3 times. When they were finally able to restrain him he was panting body still tense and wanting to be back on Brock.
Vince initially had been quite pissed but after Mark explained, quite loudly and angrily, what had happened, Vince changed completely. He was still 500% pissed the fuck off but at Brock. Brock was fired and arrested actually. Mark never left my side during the entire ordeal, he'd been by my side from the beginning, and now I could finally breath again. I was happy again. Mark and me were together having figured out after the whole Brock incident that we wanted more. He had kissed me the same day that he had almost killed Brock backstage, so feeling like it safe I told him that I loved him. Obviously things worked out. Except for Brock of course.

Love the Undertaker so much. Anywho I don't actually mind Brock to much. I currently love his storyline with Randy ( its mostly because of Randy I'll admit) but I still like Brock. Fanfics allow freedom please try to remember this and don't get offended if your a super Lesnar fan. Someone had to be the bad guy and I liked how he fit that in this :)