Eighteen
Mark sat downstairs in the living room, watching an old AWA show on ESPN Classic. He was semi-paying attention; the AWA reminded him of his childhood. He remembered the days when this stuff was new, coming on every week; when he'd catch it on television with his parents. So many of these guys had since retired or had died, and he had always taken a moment to reflect on his fallen comrades; after all, they had been his childhood heroes. Zeus was upstairs with Celeste; she had really become attached with his dog, and his dog had become attached to her, something that didn't put him out in the slightest; though he wished he had his dog with him at the moment. He had to admit; he sure liked coming home to somebody in the house, and he was pretty sure that Zeus liked not having to be locked up for the majority of the week while he traveled around the country.
He was worried about Celeste going to No Mercy at the Alltel Arena. There was no doubt she could take care of herself; she was a grown woman. Behind the vulnerable eyes and her demure demeanor, Celeste had a lot spunk, and it was a trait that was admired by him and half of the WWE locker room. With her level of spunk, he couldn't figure out how on Earth she had stayed with Brock for so long. The way they had treated her wasn't right, the way they would constantly yell at he and leave her behind at the arena to find her own way home. He was almost thankful that Brock had become violent; something had to get her out of there. And with Celeste, he knew she would try to make it work out. She would have crawled over an acre of broken glass for him. It had to be something desperate to get her out of there. He hated to think for a second that the way they were treating her was okay, and that she would agree with them. His mother raised him to treat a woman properly, and the idea of a man hitting a woman just pissed him off.
His hand ached. He didn't understand the point of taking the painkillers that the doctor had given him; he still felt the pain anyways. It never went away; even when high on the medication, there was still a dull throb that was painful. It didn't take a rocket scientist to know that Celeste blamed herself for what happened to his hand; the fact that she was hiding here like a fugitive played on her conscience every time something happened to him. He was worried that she was willing to throw herself in harm's way because he was hurt, or because there was the chance that he was going to get hurt some more before all the dust had settled.
Changing the channel, Mark settled on the news. He half-wished Zeus was with him at the moment. Hell, he would have loved it if Celeste hadn't gone straight to bed. He liked the idea of having her resting in his arms. He had felt her lips on his cheek for an hour.
No way, Deadman. You are so not thinking about this. He shook his head. He'd been battling these thoughts for a few weeks now. The more and more people told him to stay away; that this was too dangerous for him, it made him want her more. He wouldn't dream of rushing her though; he knew things had been bad with Brock. She was taking everything surprisingly well; shouldering all the pain and sadness of the breakup. He was sure she probably had nights where she cried herself to sleep, but he admired the fact that she hadn't completely broken down. At least in his presence. She had moved along like a soldier.
Celeste Marlowe. He admired her. Admired everything she had been through. He knew she was still self conscious about the bruising that was fading quickly now on her face; and the idea of going to No Mercy he supposed was her last stand with Brock. She wanted closure, finality, because she knew he wasn't going to let things go. She was worried about her family, and the life she had left behind in Minneapolis. He was selfish to try and keep her hidden here. But there was a part of him that wanted to protect her by any means necessary. It still bothered him to remember breaking into the hotel room and finding her cuffed to the bed; beaten up. He could see the spots of blood on the bed sheets, and he didn't even want to know where that came from. He had only been concerned with getting her out of there. The entire image of the situation had made him sick.
He hoped that Celeste knew what she was getting herself into.
**
Celeste lay on her side, staring out the window at the clear Texas night. She couldn't sleep. Zeus was at the foot of her bed, acting as a protector of sorts while she slept. If only she could tonight. Her mind was racing.
She wasn't an idiot; she knew that Mark wanted her to get the tattoo because it would have been a way of sticking it to Brock. She was caught in the middle of their feud, while trying to leave Brock. She made a mental note to call Elise in the morning. She hated to think about what Brock was doing to try and find her. What Paul Heyman could potentially be doing to try and find her. Sure, she knew that Paul didn't want her around; but if Brock was distracted, then he would do anything to see to it that Brock's head was in the game.
She was surprised he hadn't found her yet. The smartest thing she had done was not say anything to anybody about where she was. She didn't know if she would be able to live with herself if she ahd managed to put her entire family in danger. Now that Brock had laid his hands on her, she didn't doubt that he would stop at nothing to find her. But she didn't understand the situation. He was cheating on her with other Divas; she had heard it all, but hadn't seen it. He was abusive. So why did he still want her around? Was he afraid of failure? Was she nothing more than good old Celeste, the backup plan? She didn't know. And she wished the thoughts would go away. Some nights they were downright ugly.
She thought about dinner with Mark. She hadn't had fun in so long. He was doing so much to keep her company, to provide her with comfort, to make her happy while she tried to get over Brock.
Her thoughts went back to the day she and Mark fought in Brock's hotel room. Was he right? Did believing that nobody better was waiting for her out there keep her from walking away after all this time? She was surprised with herself she still remembered the conversation. But the truth was, she always seemed to remember what Mark said to her. And she definitely remembered slapping him at the end of the argument. She groaned; after all of that, he was still being nice to her.
She rolled onto her back and stared up at the black abyss above her. She knew she was attracted to Mark. She also knew if Brock found that out, he'd go insane. She was so self-conscious around Mark; she hadn't been that way since the early days with Brock. She was always so calculated with what she did, afraid to look like an idiot around him. And he seemed to take to her like a protector; not wanting anything to happen to her. On the other hand, she didn't want to see anything happen to him.
**
"Oh, my God, Brock...that was amazing."
Brock lay in bed with Dawn Marie and they were both staring up at the ceiling. She had managed to sneak away from Torrie's father for a few hours to spend with Brock, arriving in nothing more than a cute butterfly lingerie set under a black silk robe. Out of all the Divas he had been with, he could honestly say he liked Dawn Marie the most. She was a smart woman; she knew that it was what it was, and being clingy wasn't going to get her anywhere. The relationship with Torrie's father wasn't about love; it was about getting in Torrie's head, and it was more than definitely working. He admired the fact that she was willing to do whatever she could to ensure success. She also knew better than to say Celeste's name in his presence, but he knew she had heard the whispers. She just knew better than to ask questions.
Brock was still coming down from the high he was feeling. It wasn't anything like being with Celeste, but he liked Dawn Marie well enough. He grunted an agreement and Dawn knew at the moment that there was going to be no real conversation with him. With a deep sigh, she rolled over and gathered her robe. "Where you going?" he asked.
"I've got to get back to Al," Dawn Marie replied, "before he suspects anything. If you need anything; you know where to find me." He nodded and she let herself out of the room. He sighed. He knew Celeste was with Mark. But nobody was telling him where to find Mark. All he knew was Mark lived in Houston, Texas. Which was a long ways from Minneapolis, Minnesota. Elise and Jacob and her mother weren't saying anything; even when he had become menacing. He was starting to think that they truly didn't know where she was. And that had him concerned. He didn't want to think about what Celeste and Mark could potentially be doing together. The idea of her sleeping with him made him sick. He had been Celeste's first everything, and he wasn't about to give her up without a fight.