Chapter 44

Mark was ALL business on Sunday night, more then eager for his match with Orton. He'd kept his temper in check all this time and finally, he was allowed to kill the little scumbag. Of course, the match was personal, but...he was going to kill Randy in an entirely professional manner. He thoroughly expected Stephanie to present him with liability waivers and hoped she was also giving them to Randy. They'd be needed.

Jetta was letting him handle his business, wearing a black and purple corset top that laced up the back and was strapless along with a pair of tight black cargo pants and two inch knee high boots. Her hair was down, the streaks gone, having forced Janet to dye it back to her natural color. She was keeping it that way now. Jetta stared in the mirror as she did her black eyeliner, her lips painted in the same purple that was in her corset top, taking a deep breath. She contemplated pulling her hair up to reveal her tattoo, but decided against it, knowing that would raise more eyebrows. She didn't need that and neither did Mark as she finished up.

There was no hiding his tattoo, even if he wanted too. He wanted the world, everyone to know this woman next to him had stolen his heart, he was proud of it. "You're going to be back here with Cayla and Glen during my match." He said, looking down at her, not bothering to mention that Glen would be leaving them halfway through to come out and join him. The Brothers of Destruction were reuniting for the night.

"What?" Jetta blinked at him, knowing Michelle would be out there with Randy, and narrowed her eyes slightly. "No, I'm going out there with you, Mark." She held her hand up. "Why didn't you tell me this sooner before I dressed for my part?" She demanded, mildly agitated and sighed when he just pulled her into his arms, knowing why he didn't want her out there. She was a distraction, but damn it, Michelle was out there and no doubt would take advantage. "Are you sure you don't want me out there with you? What about the storyline? People are going to wonder where I am and Stephanie wants me out there."

Mark frowned, knowing she was right, but… "Just...try to keep out of harm's way." He finally said, knowing if she wasn't out there, it was going to raise a lot of questions. Then he studied her thoughtfully, a smirk on his lips. "You should dress like that for me all the time." He informed her, tracing a finger around her purple lips.

"Do you have any idea how uncomfortable this is?" She demanded playfully, snaking her tongue out to swipe over his finger, and smirked when his eyes instantly darkened. "Later." She promised, deciding he needed every ounce of strength to use against Randy.

She still couldn't believe he was getting off with just a fine, the investigation dropped due to half of the board believing her and half believing Randy, with Michelle's help. Jetta cracked her knuckles, that bitch was going down tonight along with Randy. It was guaranteed.

Smirking, Mark dropped down into a metal folding chair, already dressed for the night, pulling his boots towards him and began lacing them up, flicking his wet hair behind his shoulders. "Uncomfortable...I don't know, you look fairly comfortable to me." He teased.

"John says he picked out the coffin." Glen said, walking in without even knocking, in just his boots and tights, walking over to hug Jetta. "Sorry." He grunted when he heard her back pop.

"That's okay." She smiled up at him, knowing he was worried about her. Cayla had taken Daniel back to Tennessee after what happened to her, not wanting to chance something like that happening to her with Randy. She stopped speaking to him, flat out refusing to hear what he had to say, even though the prick didn't even bother trying to contact her. Randy had originally been picked out to be the godfather of Daniel, but Cayla was in the wrong and had asked Mark to take his place, to which he teased her at first before accepting. Jetta walked over and rubbed Mark's shoulders, feeling how tense he was, hugging him before kissing his neck. Her lipstick would only come off with warm water. "Good, I'll be pissing on his grave when he's buried." She stated evenly, knowing Mark felt the same way.

"I wouldn't piss on his face if his teeth were on fire." Glen said bluntly.

"I agree with him." Mark said, nodding enthusiastically, standing up and cracked his knuckles, one by one. "How is the kid holding up?" He asked, referring to John. Randy had been his best friend, emphasis on had.

"He's running around here venting his feelings...naked."

Jetta giggled at the bewildered look on Mark's face, shaking her head. Somehow that didn't surprise her. Especially when the kid decided to barge in and began dancing around her, causing her to just stare at him with a raised eyebrow. Needless to say, John went sailing out the door and hit the wall with authority, causing Jetta to laugh harder.

"Damn fool." She snorted and shut the door before walking over and pulling Mark down for a rough, passionate kiss, causing his heart rate to pick up, slowly pulling back as she stared into his eyes, giving him the reassurance even though she knew he didn't need it. She wanted to provide it.

"Just in case you're wondering," John called weakly from outside the door. "I think I'm okay..."

"Somehow, I doubt that..." Glen snorted, opening the door and sticking his head out. "Your brains scrambled boy?"

"Just my marbles."

Mark buried his face in her hair with a groan. "Lord..."

Jetta giggled softly and snuggled against him briefly before letting him go, letting him and Glen strategize over the match. She knew he would be involved, honestly not minding. Michelle wouldn't see it coming and that's all that mattered. Sighing, she sat on the couch and looked down at her black painted fingernails, knowing after tonight she could go back to single's competition.

After tonight, Randy Orton wouldn't be around for a long time to come.

After tonight, her and Mark could truly, finally be together without any other distractions because he was taking her to his home in Houston for a few days. She couldn't wait and closed her eyes, wishing this night was over already. They were taking a late flight from the airport right after his match, not wanting to waste anytime.

"You bout ready?" Glen asked, glancing at the clock, knowing a few matches from now, Randy would be dead. Or in a wheelchair, with tubes hooked to him, unable to remember his own name.

Mark nodded, rolling his shoulders and began shadow boxing, his green eyes all, but glowing. "Make sure you wait till I give the signal." He stated evenly.

"I'll do my best, boss."

Jetta took a deep breath when she seen Mark extend his hand to her, looking up at him, seeing he was in his wrestling tights and slowly slipped hers into his. She didn't say a word and sighed as he brought his lips to hers, this kiss passionate and full of love. She slowly pulled away and stared into his acid green eyes, lacing their fingers together and nodded once at Glen before walking out of the dressing room, keeping her head held high. He was going out in front of millions with her name seared in his skin to beat the shit out of the man who had sexually assaulted her. If that wasn't love, Jetta didn't know what was.

Randy was already there, surrounded by security guards to keep Mark from trying to rip his head off before their match. He didn't even look at Jetta, his gaze straight ahead.

Michelle sneered at Jetta, flipping her hair in the other woman's direction, saying something to Randy with the unmistakable word 'slut' being the only thing audible.

Mark didn't miss it, planning on killing Michelle if she didn't keep her mouth shut.

Squeezing Mark's hand to assure him she could handle Michelle, Jetta stood there staring straight ahead, letting all of her anger simmer deep inside of her until they were out there. The first time Michelle tried interfering in the match, Jetta was going to be on her like white on rice. Cracking her neck along with her knuckles, which had black lace fingerless gloves covering them, Jetta heard Randy's music and didn't even look in his direction, her eyes closed with her head down, getting into character.

"See you out there, slut." Michelle taunted, blowing Jetta a kiss over her shoulder. Giggling viciously, she followed Randy out onto the stage.

Mark's face settled into a stoic mask, though the story was all too clear in his green eyes. Michelle would be bald because he was going to scalp her simply by ripping her hair clean off her head AFTER he was through with Randy. When it was time for them to make their entrance, his shoulders straightened, head snapping up.

Her head snapped up in unison with his, both of them having their game faces on. She slowly walked through the curtain, only this time Mark didn't release her hand like normal. He wasn't in his normal wrestling outfit either. The top half was the same, but he was wearing skintight black jeans with a black bandana wrapped around his head, his eyes uncovered with his hair pulled back in a tight braid. He wasn't wearing his hat, just the coat as it swayed with every movement he made.

This was personal and she knew that as she walked with him, both of their eyes locking on their opponents. Jetta's upper lip curled in a snarl upon seeing Michelle, seeing her taunting her still. That was fine as Jetta's hand flexed into a fist, her blue eyes ice cold.

Michelle glanced at Randy, smirking when she seen his eyes were locked on Jetta, and laughed wickedly. Though...when she seen the look on Mark's face, she was wondering if she was going to make it out of here alive. He wouldn't hurt a woman, right? Though, Jetta would and the woman was currently looking just as dangerous as Mark.

"Hate me now?" Randy called.

She slowly nodded her head, making the cut throat motion as her eyes rolled in the back of her head, causing his blue eyes to widen, and smirked when Mark did the same thing. The crowd was going absolutely crazy as she stood on the ring apron before jumping down, refusing to get in there since Michelle had already gotten out. She wasn't as dumb as Jetta thought after all and watched as Mark slowly took his jacket off, letting Randy think about the ass kicking he was about to receive. Nothing, but coldness was in her eyes, no remorse for what was going to happen and she didn't even wince when Mark started the match by clotheslining Randy straight to hell.

Randy had brought everything to this match though, having been spending his 'time off' preparing for it, knowing he had to bring it all to the table if he wanted to somehow walk out of here, or at least not be life-flighted somewhere. He bounced up, shaking his head, stifling a groan. Frowning, he ducked the next clothesline, prepared when Mark abruptly stopped and plowed his fist into the older man's jaw.

Oh the kid wanted to play did he? That was fine. Mark could play too. He returned the punch and about knocked Randy's head off his shoulders.