This has so not turned out the way I planned. I had intended to write a chapter about the Rumble match but of course I came up with something completely different. Seems to be par for the course with this story. Anyway I'm not happy with it but I'm posting it anyway because I want to get it out of the road and start writing the good stuff with the McMahons and Kurt Angle. In the meantime I hope you enjoy this chapter for what it is and thanks to everyone who reads and replies to my stories. It means a lot :)
Chapter 8
Stephanie
It's almost three a.m. in the morning and I still can't sleep. Shifting my head on the soft cotton pillow, my eyes settle on the sole reason for my restlessness. Hunter.
He's lying next to me, his soft steady breathing echoing around the walls of the silent hotel room. The sound comforts me somewhat, soothing my anxiety over him. A thin shaft of moonlight has escaped through the drawn drapes and it dances across Hunter's face, illuminating his handsome features. I can't help myself. My hand lifts to touch him, my fingertips lightly brushing a few loose strands of hair from his heavily taped forehead. I'm careful in my movement though scared I might hurt him even in his deep slumber. God knows Hunter has been hurt more than enough tonight. In fact hurt was an understatement. He had been beaten and brutalised by that sick, sadistic freak, Cactus Jack so much so Hunter had multiple stitches in his leg and forehead. He also had bruises covering his entire body and tiny pinhole marks where several thumb tacks had pierced his skin.
Despite the warm temperature of the room and the gentle heat of the man lying next to me, I shiver lightly as I remember everything Hunter had endured tonight. Broken wooden pallets, steel doors, steel steps, barbed wire, the announce table…..Hunter had been brutally punished by them all. Watching the match backstage, I had felt physically sick each time his body had connected with one of them. I had even let out a distressed cry when the barbed wire post bust open his head, staining his beautiful blonde hair red with his blood. It had been horrible to see that – horrible to witness him in such pain. Yet I couldn't look away in spite of myself. I couldn't help but stare at the screen and be proud at everything Hunter was willing to endure to be the best. And he was the best. He was the Game. Tonight had more than proved that to me and to the entire world as well. Hunter Hearst Helmsley deserved to be the WWF Champion and then some.
Just then, he murmurs in his sleep and my hand hovers in mid air, frozen as his face turns to me. I feel my breath hitch in my throat, overwhelmed by what I feel for him as my fingers reach for his hair, absently brushing through the ends. That's how Hunter had fallen asleep tonight. With me running my fingers through his soft hair. There was something about that simple act that felt so intimate at the time. It made me feel close to him, closer than I've ever felt in the few short months that we've been together. Even closer than we had become at Christmas when Hunter had told me about his past.
Maybe it was the fact that Hunter had allowed me to take care of him like this. I'd never been more relieved than when he asked me to stay with him tonight because honestly I didn't want him being alone. Hunter had received so many shots to the head I couldn't help but feel worried about him despite the constant reassurances from the doctor that my husband was okay. That he hadn't suffered a concussion or even worse, some form of brain damage. Although sometimes I had to wonder with the crazy things Hunter did in the ring. Tonight was more than proof of his insanity when it came to the business. Wrestling was his true passion in life.
As my fingertips trail along Hunter's face lightly tracing his cheek, I wonder if he could ever be that passionate about me. Could I consume him so completely? Sometimes when we make love and he's inside me, I think so because I can see it in his eyes. Hunter's eyes are the window to his soul and they tell me what he never says out loud. Hunter cares about me or at least I think he does. Or maybe I'm completely wrong. Maybe I'm confusing simple lust and his obvious attraction for me for deeper feelings, feelings that simply might not exist. Maybe I'm so desperate for Hunter to love me back that I'm seeing things I want to see. Part of me believes that's true. The other part of me holds on to the fact that he's still with me despite getting what he wanted from me. There hasn't been any particular hurry to end our little arrangement either. Hunter also wanted me to stay with him tonight. That has to count for something, right?
The diamond ring on the third finger of my left hand sparkles in the moonlight, catching my attention. As I let myself admire the jewellery for a moment, I dwell on that fact. That Hunter asked me to stay. That he fell asleep next to me simply holding me. And that's when it hits me that this is the first time we've shared a bed and not performed some sort of sexual act on another. We haven't made love tonight yet here I am filled with more emotion and feeling closer to Hunter than I ever have. At least that's the way I feel. God knows what Hunter was feeling. But I refuse to dwell on that. I refuse to dwell on the uncertainty. Instead I tell myself that Hunter is here now in my arms for no other reason that he wants to be. He doesn't need anything from me. He's not out to take what he can get. Instead he's happy for me to take care of him, to look after him after everything he's been through tonight. And that gives me hope. Hope that the love I feel for this man isn't so unrequited after all. Hope that perhaps one day we might have some sort of future together. A future that doesn't just rely on revenge and power and all the things that brought us together in the first place because I really do love Hunter. I know that for sure. I also know I can't lose him. I refuse to.
And suddenly I can't help myself. My heart takes over as my hand cups the left side of his face and my mouth lowers to his. I barely touch him. In fact my kiss is a mere whisper on Hunter's lips but it's enough to satisfy my urges as I silently make a promise to myself. A promise that I would do whatever it took to keep this man as my husband because I have to admit, Hunter is becoming a drug to me. An addiction I just can't shake no matter what I try and quite frankly I don't want to. Why would I when I feel so alive when I'm with him? When we're together we have the whole world in the palm of our hands and it's a world I'm determined to hold on to despite everyone else in our lives and in particular my family.
I let out a soft sigh as I break away from Hunter and letting my eyes scan his face for a few seconds longer, I then drop my head to his shoulder. Breathing in the faint musky scent of his cologne my mind turns to my family and in particular my mother. She was there tonight. She was at the WWF New York watching the pay per view. Of course I didn't see her there but I heard about the interview she gave after Hunter's match. An interview where she was asked about Hunter and myself and the manner in which we were running the business. Apparently her reply was we were going to be "handled the McMahon way". Well bring it on because my mother forgets I'm a McMahon too. I can fight just as hard and as just as dirty as my parents can. Just ask my father. After all he's seen what I'm capable of – what we're capable of, Hunter and I. We took his precious company away from him and drove him out. Together we're unstoppable and no one can touch us. Not my mother. Not my father. Absolutely nobody. So mother dearest, you've got a fight on your hands because if you think Hunter went through what he went through tonight just to give up control to you, to give up everything he's worked so hard for, you're very much mistaken. That title belongs to my husband. The World Wrestling Federation belongs to us and no one is going to take it away. We'll do whatever we have to in order to keep it and if that means screwing my family over one more time then so be it. We'll do whatever it takes. The McMahon Helmsley Era is only just beginning and nothing or no-one is going to stop us. I can promise you that.