Chapter 16

I press my head against the window and sigh. The coolness of the glass feels good against my forehead. Next to me Shawn sits humming off tune along to the radio. He taps his hand on the steering wheel attempting to keep beat. I never realized the man was both tone deaf and lacked rhythm. Nevertheless there is something comforting about his soft hum and the drum of his fingers. I open my eyes and watch as lights of red and yellow wiz by in the dark of the night outside. I am on my way to see Mark and I think I should probably feel relieved because after all, he must know more about this thing than I do. All of this points at his family and his dead brother so he must know something. He must have some answer for me or some piece of advice or shred of help. Yet I can't shake this sinking feeling in my gut that it is not yet over and that something is not quite right. Although it seems obvious that Mark should know something more than I do I keep getting a feeling that he knows nothing more than me and perhaps—scarier than that—that he may know less. I pull my face away from the cold glass and sink back into the chair. I reach beside the chair and find a lever that tilts it back. I stare up at the upholstery of the vehicle and rub my eyes.

It seems like forever since I've been completely and fully myself and just myself with no hint of Kane prying in here and there. I know he's been getting stronger and stronger. I find myself having long periods of time when I don't know what I was doing, or how I got to someplace, or why I've just nearly killed Chris and Vince. I don't want to be this way. It's a very scary feeling to know that something else other than you is in control of your actions, something as horrible and brutal as Kane.

"You okay Glen?" Shawn asks glancing away from the road momentarily and over to me. His eyes glimmer with concern and I can't help but smile up at him. He's such a good guy and God bless him for putting up with me on many occasions and for attempting an exorcism on me.

"Fine Shawn."

There's an annoying buzzing sound and I realize that Shawn's cell phone is buzzing in the cup holder where he dumped it earlier. He turns the knob on the radio quieting the music before picking it up and holding it to his ear.

"Yeah Shane, what's up?"

Great, I'm sure Shane is filling him in on what I did to his father and Chris tonight. Now what's Shawn going to think of me? I know Shawn has already seen Kane once for tonight. The dark bruises around his neck tell me that and every time I sneak a glance at them guilt ties my guy into knots. I know it wasn't me who put those marks there…but they were still my hands. As if to confirm this I raise said large and ugly hands up in front of my face. These hands have never purposely hurt another human being. Despite they've been balled into many fists and have grasped many necks in preparation for countless chokeslams, those things are all different. There is no true malicious intent when I step into the ring with my colleagues and friends. I'm not Kane I am Glen and I don't choke people. Damn it I don't fucking hurt people!

"He-he did?" Shawn stutters and casts a twitchy glance my way. "Shane, I don't think Glen's him self lately. He would never—well I know…no I didn't see it. But—but Sh—yeah…Shane listen, you know Glen."

After a few more interrupted sentences in my defense Shawn clicks his phone shut and drops it into its previous resting place in the cup holder. He grips the steering wheel a bit tighter and his lips purse together. I can tell from the distant look in his eyes that he is doing more thinking than driving which is a bit unnerving.

"Shawn?"

"Huh?" He blinks him self out of his thoughts but doesn't look my way.

"Shane?" I nearly whisper. Just thinking of hurting Vince so much to put him in the hospital makes my voice come out in a strangle. Despite his t.v. personality he's a good guy and one whom I respect very much. I can only wonder what he must think of me now and I can only bet that my days in the WWE are over. Although maybe that's really the best, maybe that will help this whole situation somehow if I am no longer wrestling and calling upon Kane the gimmick. I can feel my face forming into a scowl just thinking of his name now, because I have realized for some time now that he is more than a gimmick and for what he is doing to my life I am beginning to hate him, or it, or whatever.

"Yeah." Shawn croaks just as quietly as I did. The whole atmosphere of the car has changed. I think Shawn is afraid and that hurts me just as much as knowing I put Vince in the hospital.

"Please don't be scared of me." I can't stop that from coming out how it does, which is in a whimper. I can't recall if I've ever whimpered before but lately I've been doing many things I've never done before. I feel overwhelmed and drained from dealing or at least attempting to deal with all of these things. Before I can stop myself I'm weeping, shivering like a leaf in the wind.

"I'm not afraid of you Glen." Shawn reaches a hand over and lays it on my knee. "I-I'm worried for you. Whatever it was, my praying and demanding didn't help. It…must be…some part of you or something. All I know is I know who Glen is and I don't want that other nasty thing taking over my friend." Shawn gives my knee a squeeze. If he only knew how comforting his words were to me! If we weren't in this car right now I would hug the stuffings out of him. I try to calm my tears a bit but a few still leak out and run down my cheeks and puddle in my ears.

"So is—how are Chris and Vince?"

"Glen, I don't think this is the right time to talk about it."

"I want to know okay? Just tell me."

There is silence in the car for a few moments which is broken only by the noise of the tires over the road and the occasional whoosh of another vehicle as we pass in the night like drifting spirits, sauntering along on the same path but never quite touching.

"Vince was treated and released. He has a concussion and stitches in the back of his head." Shawn moves his hand from my knee and readjusts the music to its level previous to his phone call.

"And Chris?"

"Glen…"

"Shawn." I grab the lever of my chair and sit it up, a bit to quickly as my head spins. I turn the radio back down and turn a serious gaze on the driver of the car. He shifts in his seat wanting to avoid answering my question about the first man I pummeled. "Is he going to be okay?"

"Shane said that Chris is in critical condition." Shawn closes his mouth with an audible snap and grips the wheel harder. It seems he is intent on not letting me in on any more information.

Aggravated that he won't tell me more I sink back into my seat. That's when I notice the lights that strobe blue and red in the mirror. I glance over at Shawn and the meters on the dash and see that he's driving well over the speed limit. But who wouldn't when they're stuck in the car with a freaking psycho?

"Shawn, pull over man." I nudge his elbow. "Pull over."

Shawn looks in his mirror for the first time noticing the lights. He veers the car over to the shoulder. I really hope the police are just trying to get to somewhere else and that maybe they're doing more than just looking for someone who's a little heavy footed. I would rather avoid any and all delays and get to Mark's very soon. We still had about three hours of driving left before we would be in Houston. However the black and white doesn't zoom past us in pursuit of other more pressing matters. Instead it pulls in behind us and a woman walks up to the car. She taps a finger to the window and Shawn gives her a sheepish smile and rolls the window down.

"Sorry Officer." Shawn offers and flashes his best smile.

"License, registration, and proof of insurance." She says like an automated robot. I pop open the glove box and grab out a pile of crap and sort through it as Shawn digs out his wallet and drivers license.

"Here." I toss him the other need items.

"Michael Hickenbottom?" She asks eyeing Shawn against the picture on his license.

"That's me." Shawn answers.

I feel myself growing antsy with this whole situation. I just want to get to Mark and figure this thing out and put an end to it. Frustrated I stick all the papers back into the glove box and slam it shut, only to have it flop open again. Cursing I paw around in it trying to straighten the papers so it will shut up.

"Sir, can you keep your hands where I can see them please."

"Glen, leave it alone okay." Shawn instructs pulling my hands out of the glove box and sitting them in my lap.

"Sir, are you okay?"

I look up realizing the cop is talking to me. Why can't she just write the ticket and be gone?

"I'm fine." I can't help but fidget around in my seat and wipe the perspiration that is forming on my brow. I don't know why I have any reason to feel nervous but I am. The lady cop eyes me suspiciously and rounds the front of the car and appears in my window. I roll it down and glare up at her.

"Sir, can I see your license please?"

"Why? I'm not driving!" I grump at her as I reach to the backseat for my duffel bag.

"Sir, please don't reach for anything." She warns and I start to grow more and more agitated.

"Well the I guess you don't want to see who I am. My wallet's in there with my ring gear so either I reach back there and get or you just take Shawn's and don't worry about me."

Shawn groans. I suppose I'm only making the situation worse by being foul to her but with everything that's happened to me tonight I can't seem to help it.

"I'm going to need you to step out of the car."

The muscle brunette rests one hand on the holster of her weapon and with the other she motions for me to open the door and step out. Grumbling and muttering to myself I step out of the car. She looks a bit taken back when she sees how big I am compared t her probably 5'6" 140-something-pound frame.

"Do you have anything on your person I should know about? Any knives, guns, weapons, needles--"

"I have nothing."

Her hands roam over my body and in and out of my pockets turning them inside out and revealing no more than viciously dangerous lint. She then turns to Shawn but keeps a trained eye on my as I lean against the car spread eagle.

"Is there anything in the vehicle I should know about?" She chomps her gum obnoxiously. Please lady, just let us be!

"No ma'am." Shawn says politely and waves his hand around the inside of the car. "Look for whatever you want. Be my guest."

She pulls my bag from the back seat and sits it on the roof of the car. She pulls out my ring tights, boots, dirty undergarments, and my wallet. She fishes out my id and confirms that my face matches the one on the picture id.

"Glen Jacobs?"

"The one and only…as far as I know."

She nods and takes both of our licenses back to her cruiser where she checks us out to see what kind of hardened criminals she's dealing with. As I watch her doing something inside her black and white I get an odd sense of dejavu. I see myself on the shoulder of the highway with a young Barney Fife-like cop approaching me. I roll my window down for him and then…there's nothing else.

I rest my head against the car wondering why police always take ages to do something simple like run a name or something. We've been pulled over for what seems like hours now and this is just wasting time we could be on the road headed for Mark, headed for answers, and resolutions.

"Sir, put your hands behind your back."

I turn around to see the young woman pointing a gun at me. I back into the car completely in shock. What in the blue hell did I do to deserve this.

"Hands behind your back!" She yells and I quickly comply.

"What is this for?"

She grips my wrist with one hand and quickly slides her gun back into her holster. She snaps the cuffs tightly and starts to read my rights.

"…you have the right to an attorney. If you can not afford an attorney one will be appointed to you. Do you understand your rights?"

"Yeah but I don't understand why I'm being arrested!"

"Ma'am, what's going on?" Shawn asks sounding bewildered and more nervous than ever.

"You have a warrant for your arrest out of Tennessee." Is as far as she will comment. "Come on." She jerks my wrists and I follow her to the cruiser and duck into the back seat all the while trying to get some kind of answer out of her. I've never been in trouble with the law in my life! I've never done anything more serious than a speeding ticket or a minor traffic violation. Well, I did get caught with some weed once back in the day but it was a very small amount…mainly because Mark and I had smoked the majority of it earlier that day. But what did I do to deserve getting arrested and not only arrested but having a gun pointed at me like I'm some kind of murderer! That thought suddenly makes me feel sick to my stomach. I know what I have done, but I don't know what Kane's done. What if he's done something so horrible…

Once again I find myself bawling my eyes out. This isn't my life anymore, it can't be.

Static crackles over the radio like disembodied voice trying to communicate from another world. The cop cracks her gum noisily.

"Ma'am can you please tell me what I've been arrested for?" I try again for the hundredth time on the ride to the jail. I can tell she's getting more and more annoyed with me. I guess in her mind I should sure as hell know what I did. In some ways I'm almost afraid to find out what it is that Kane did to get me arrested. I guess I could always plead not guilty by reason of insanity. That seems to be the current theme of my life.

"You have a warrant out of Bloom County, Tennessee for assault on an officer. My dispatcher warned me that you may be dangerous."

"A-assualt? On an officer?" I clench my teeth together angrily and growl between them. So that's what Kane did. Good job ass hole, thanks a lot! What else could he possibly do to make my life any more of a living hell?

I wonder vaguely what Shawn is thinking of this whole situation. At least he tried to help me out. I'll have to give him a medal for it if I ever see him again. I close my eyes and wait.

"Wake up, we're here."

I wonder why my arms are numb and who is talking to me. The voice doesn't sound at all familiar.

"Out of the car, Sir!"

I crack my eyes open and the cage separating the back seat from the front reminds me that I am in the back of a police car. The shrill demanding voice in my ear reminds me that I am under arrest for assault on a law enforcement officer.

I am led into the jail where tired and harsh eyes of officers who have seen the inside of the jail too look up at me with judgment or lack of interest. I'm processed in—except for the orange suit—they didn't have one big enough for a three hundred pound seven foot tall monster like me. They remind me of my one phone call but I don't even know who I would call. I wouldn't think of calling Jenna from jail. My eyes well up with tears thinking of her and missing her. How much I would rather be at home making sweet love to my amazing wife then sitting in a jail cell for a crime some evil thing inside of me committed. After refusing my phone call I'm stuck in an over crowded cell. I curl myself up in a corner and hope that I'll wake up and be somewhere else.

I startle to wakefulness with the clang of the door opening. A jailer steps in holding my things that were confiscated just the night before. I rub my bleary eyes confused and still half asleep.

"Mr. Jacobs." The jailer says. "You are free to go."

"W-what?" Now I think it's my ears I should be worrying about. I must be going deaf or senile because after last night there's no way he can be telling me I'm free to go. Was there some sort of mistake?

"Your bail has been posted. You're free to go."

I pick myself up from the hard floor grimacing at all the aches and pains in my joints. I follow the jailer out of the cell sticking my wallet and things back into my pockets as I go. When I reach the lobby a man with dark hair, deep lines in his face, and kind green eyes comes to greet me.

"Mark?"

Wow! So much going on. Let me know what you think of this update. :)Thank you for reading and reviewing, it is much appreciated!