Chapter 42

She couldn't even talk as the sobs wracked through her body, trying to get away from him. "STOP IT!" She shrieked against his lips, whipping her head back and forth hastily, swallowing hard as he began stroking her through her panties, not believing this was happening. "Randy, stop it!" She cried harder, twisting her wrists in his grasp as hard as she could muster up, knowing she would have bruises around them when this was done. "Randy, I hate you now stop it!"

Her heart gave a painful lurch as he pressed himself against her further, knowing what he was doing. He wanted her to hate him. He wanted her to loathe and detest him and it was damn sure working.

"No." Randy whispered harshly, his blue eyes darkening with desire. "I want you to hate me so badly you don't care what happens to me, that you'll never feel bad or pity me ever again." One quick jerk and her panties were gone, laying on the floor. "You like this, Jetta, don't you?" He murmured, caressing her clit with the tip of his finger, purposely lighting her body on fire. He knew well enough that a body could physically respond and the person still not want it. He wasn't deluding himself into thinking she actually wanted him, even if her body did.

"No...no please don't..." She cried out, knowing how sensitive her body was because she hadn't had sex in two weeks. Her face was tear streaked and she was fighting her body tooth and nail from enjoying this. "Randy please, please don't do this..." She pleaded brokenly, dropping her head forward, already feeling herself becoming wet from his administrations. She felt his lips seal to her neck and felt her eyes fly open, beginning to buck against him, trying to move her wrists, her legs, anything. "SOMEONE HE-" Her screams were silenced by his lips crushing hers again, but she didn't stop and cried out when his finger slid between her wet folds. He was sexually assaulting her in a bathroom of all places! "NO!" She screamed out as soon as his lips pulled away from hers, the fire and rage in her eyes unmistakable. "You'll pay for this! You're going to regret the day you ever MET me Randy Orton!" She hissed angrily, crying out when his grip became harder, her temper beginning to surface and groaned when he slammed her back against the wall.

"God, I hope so." Randy hissed darkly. "Because all I DO is think about you, Jetta. So if you hate me...maybe I can forget you." Or maybe Mark would kill him, either way, she would be out of his mind and he would be out of her life. They both gained something from this. "Hate me." He whispered, capturing her lips again, adding another finger, pumping them in her methodically, crooking them to brush against her sweet spot.

The anguish on her face was clear as day as she tried not to enjoy this, as she tried to fight him as much as she could, but the look in his icy blue eyes caused the fear within her to consume her again. "I hate you! I hope Mark DESTROYS you to the point where your career ends at Judgment Day!" She shouted, crying out as he worked his fingers inside of her, already feeling that hot coil burning within her stomach. She couldn't do this! She couldn't succumb to this and had to find someway out. "RANDY, STOP IT!" She screamed at the top of her lungs. "I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU MORE THAN ANYTHING! MARK IS GOING TO KILL YOU FOR THIS! DO YOU HEAR ME? HE'S GOING TO FUCKING MAIM YOU FOR DOING THIS TO ME!"

Snorting, Randy pulled his hand away long enough to clasp her wrists in either hand, pinning them flat to the wall, his strength far overpowering hers. And they both knew it. He dropped down to his knees, still holding her wrists, bracing his forearms tightly against her thighs, still protecting his head. He looked up at her, taking in her tear stained face and inhaled sharply, his head disappearing between her parted legs. His tongue took over where his fingers had left off, groaning as her sweet juices drenched him.

The heart wrenching sobs overtook her as Jetta felt her knees collapsing, feeling Randy hold her up by pinning her against the wall. She had nowhere to go, nowhere to run, and nobody could hear her. Nobody could stop him from doing this and that just made her cry harder. Mark would want nothing to do with her after this.

"MARK!" She screamed out as hard as she could, her vocal cords straining, more tears scorching her face, her makeup running. "Stop it Randy!" She cried out hoarsely, not feeling any ounce of desire, even though her body was betraying her. She was crying so hard her entire body was trembling, though she never stopped twisting her wrists in his grasp.

Cumming while she was crying, Randy would remember that for the rest of his life, what was left of it anyway. He lapped up all her juices, not letting a precious drop go anywhere, but to his tongue. He rested his head against her for a moment, finally standing up, his body sliding against hers.

"I could have you right here and now, Jetta," He whispered, pressing his lips to hers gently, arching his hips against her, letting her feel how much he wanted her. "And you would love it..."

"Hey, I got to piss so-" Michelle stopped talking, her head turning to them and froze, her eyes widening. "Wow...what a slut."

Jetta punched Randy right in the face, hearing the sickening crunch as he stumbled back, blood pouring out of his nose, tears streaming her face. Michelle could go run her mouth, it didn't matter. She would lose Mark no matter what now after what Randy just did to her.

"I FUCKING HATE YOU!" She screeched, causing Michelle to cover her ears as she kicked Randy repeatedly below the belt, wearing black two inch knee high steel toed boots. "I FUCKING HATE YOU!" She kicked him one final time in the face, causing him to bust through the closed stall, her kick boxing having come in handy before rushing out the door, needing to get out of the arena.

Michelle stepped out, watching as Jetta took off, her eyes studying the scene before her in the bathroom. Ripped panties, Randy looking like he'd gotten the shit knocked out of him. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together. Quickly, she gathered the panties -using a towel to grab them, she didn't need Jetta's crabs- and threw them away, burying them in the trash.

"SOMEONE HELP, RANDY'S BEEN ATTACKED!" She screamed, sticking her head out the door.

John was one of the first on scene, his eyes bugging out of his head when he seen Randy. "What the hell happened?" He demanded.

"Apparently he and Jetta were fighting and she attacked him." Whispered one of the hairdressers, repeating the rapidly spreading gossip.

"They were FINE when I left them..."

"Yeah, well that bitch SNAPPED on him. Apparently her anger issue hasn't been checked after all." Michelle said, wiping tears from her face.

~!~

Jetta didn't stop running as the tears flew behind her, pounding pavement as hard and fast as her boots would allow her, knowing her and Mark were done. She'd branded herself with his name and he with hers and now it was ruined. Randy had forced her into submission and Michelle had walked in after he was finished with her. There was no way Mark would believe her, it was over between them and her heart was shattered. Randy was right. She hated him. She hated him and she wanted Mark to rip him apart at Judgment Day. She wouldn't run away, but she also knew Michelle would twist her words to make it sound like Jetta had enjoyed what happened. She'd been sexually assaulted, raped orally, and now she was running. There was no way she could face Mark right now, not in her condition, with her flushed complexion, swollen cheeks and tear stained face. Her life was ruined and it was all thanks to Randy Orton.

As soon as she arrived at the hotel, Jetta immediately hopped in the shower and scrubbed her skin until it was raw, until there was nothing, but redness. Her tears never stopped as she dropped to her knees, the water pounding down on her fiercely. She had her own hotel room since she knew Michelle was probably telling Mark what happened at that moment. She didn't care. She honestly didn't. She was a fool to think she could be happy and cried harder than ever. She stepped out of the shower, or rather stumbled, wrapping a towel around her body and heard her cell phone going off.

Picking it up, Jetta sat on the bed and flipped it open, her voice hoarse from all the screaming she'd done. "Cayla, now isn't a good time..." Her voice cracked, wiping tears away as they kept falling.

"Are you kidding me? Jetta, you need to get back here right fucking now!" Cayla sounded frantic. "Michelle spread it around that you attacked Randy!" Cayla exhaled in a rush. Jetta's old temper was against her at the moment, half the people believing Michelle, the other half saying no. "You need to come clear this up because Randy isn't talking about it. And Mark is LIVID."

"Livid? No...he's homicidal...I need some ice for my head..." Glen groaned in the background. "He's in the basement, locked..."

"I CAN'T!" Jetta snapped as she dropped to her knees, wrapping her arms around her midsection, feeling sick to her stomach.

"Why not?" Cayla demanded angrily, seeing the dazed look in her husband's eyes, and sighed heavily. "Jetta girl, what happened?"

"You don't want to know..."

"YES I FUCKING DO! DON'T MAKE ME COME FIND YOU CAUSE I WILL!"

Her temper was up and Jetta couldn't stop the words from coming out of her mouth. "RANDY FUCKING SEXUALLY ASSAULTED ME, CAYLA!" She screamed, curling up in a tight ball on the floor. She heard Cayla beginning to flip out and closed the lid to her cell phone, crying her heart and soul out.

"Where the hell are you going?" Glen demanded, accepting Daniel when Cayla held him out.

"To go get Jetta. You might want to keep Mark locked up." Cayla said grimly, walking out of the locker room.

Glen followed. "What the hell happened?"

"Randy..." She shook her head, eyes blazing. "Have Stephanie watch Daniel if you can, then go release Mark." She stood on her tiptoes, whispering in Glen's ear what Jetta told her moments ago over the phone.

"MOTHER FUCKER!"

Jetta managed to peel herself from the floor and collapsed on the bed, the sobs tearing through every inch of her body. She didn't want to see anyone, talk to anyone. All she wanted was Mark's arms wrapped around her, telling her everything was going to be alright, but knew deep down they wouldn't be. Michelle would use what she saw against her and Jetta knew she didn't stand a chance. Though that wasn't going to stop her from kicking that blonde bitch's ass into the next century again. Jetta's eyes looked toward the door and sighed when she heard Cayla's voice shrieking through it. She had no choice and slid from the bed, stumbling over, still wearing just the towel and opened it, tears instantly sliding down her cheeks as her friend took her in her arms.

"Oh honey..." Cayla whispered, guiding Jetta to the bed and sitting down, pulling her friend into her arms. "Jetta..."

She knew what she needed to say. That a rape kit was in order, a statement clarifying what had happened, but how did she tell her best friend, her sister, those things, especially when what Jetta really needed was Mark, telling her everything was going to be alright? Mark was probably on his way to prison right now however.

Jetta couldn't even speak as she just let Cayla hold her tightly, the sobs tearing through her violently. "Do you believe me?" She whispered, finally pulling back to stare into her best friend's eyes, knowing how close her and Randy were. "Cayla..."

"I believe you." Cayla whispered, pressing her finger against Jetta's lips, quieting her. "You already took a shower, but that doesn't mean you can't get a rape kit done."

"No." She shook her head, standing up, and raked a hand through her hair. "He didn't hurt me, Cayla. He just...he fingered me and..." She had to take a deep breath before she began dry heaving again. "He ate me out. He didn't actually...rape me. He sexually assaulted me and Michelle walked in just as he finished. He ripped my panties off and she probably disposed of them to make it look like it's my fault. Mark is never going to believe me. She's probably already filled his head with lies..." She sank down on the bed again, burying her face in her hands. "I'm going to lose him..."

"No, it's RAPE. You didn't want it, did you?" When Jetta shook her head, Cayla nodded. "You can't control a physical response, Jetta, it wasn't your fault. And we both know Mark is going to believe you over that lying whore. You need to make sure people know the truth or you're never going to be able to show your face again. Honey, Mark loves you..." She whipped out her cell phone, dialing Glen. "Did you say the trashcan?"

"I don't know..." Jetta whispered, knowing this was a messed up situation in more ways than one.

She seen Cayla on the phone with Glen, explaining to him what happened, hearing a LOT of cussing, wincing when Mark got on the phone, bellowing at the top of his lungs. Jetta immediately ran into the bathroom and emptied her stomach, the sickness overwhelming her with what happened, not able to get Randy's words out of her mind.

Hate me. Hate me, Jetta, and tell Mark.

The more they ran through her mind, the lower she felt.

~!~

"MARK, SHUT UP! Have you seen him?"

"They barricaded him in a room." Mark admitted gruffly. "She alright?"

"Technically, no. Don't be stupid. You and Glen find a way into the room and BEAT the truth out of him." Cayla demanded, having left Jetta reluctantly to come back to the arena, absolutely furious.

"Consider it done."

Randy was already taken from the arena and put on a plane back to St. Louis until Judgment Day. He was put on strict probation until the investigation was finished.

Cayla had gone into the bathroom, ripping the yellow tape off, and looked inside the garbage can, finding the panties wadded up in a paper towel. Without anyone seeing, she quickly vacated the area and went to show Mark, who was currently being kept under the watchful eye of her husband. "Just incase you didn't believe her..." Cayla laid the ripped panties in front of Mark and immediately vacated along with Glen when his green eyes turned dark with anger and rage.

"Randy is dead."

Cayla suddenly collapsed against her husband, crying her heart out.

Mark couldn't tear his eyes from the panties, seeing the way they were torn and knew they had been ripped off of her. How did he know? He'd ripped her panties off of her dozens of times.

Glen held Cayla tightly against him, flinching when he seen a bench go flying past the open door, colliding viciously with the lockers. That was followed by every other piece of furniture in the room, then the bathroom. Mark was destroying anything his hands landed on.