Finding Randy Orton should have been easy. Between the two of them, he was the stable one. He had an iron clad traveling schedule, unlike Torren, who went where the wind, or whatever car she acquired, took her. Randy had definitive signing times and appearances. The only thing that Torren had to do was look for (stalk) Randy. It had taken months to figure out the password to his personal email account, but once she had it, it was like having an Orton GPS. Plus, it was nice to know that he used the same password on all of his accounts. If there was anything in the world that she needed to know about him all she had to do was log onto a computer.
She had double checked his schedule to see what time he was due at the arena, from the library, several blocks away from her motel room. She had been thinking about stealing a laptop or one of those fancy iPads. She was still on the fence about the idea, though. She didn't like the fact that all of her personal business could be on the World Wide Web. The last thing she needed was someone even crazier than she being able to access her information. But, it would make it easier to keep tabs on her man. Having to go to the library and threaten little kids to get off the fucking computers, so she could hack his accounts, wasn't all it was cracked up to be.
Besides, she was usually rushed at the library. It usually only took a few minutes before one of those little bastard kids would get the library Nazis to kick her off the computer, or bar her from the library all together. Usually, she didn't mind, but these small towns usually only had one library within their county limits. If she got banned how was she supposed to check up on Randy? In the time it took to log in until she got kicked out, she'd be lucky if she could check 2 of his accounts. What if he had some important information in another account that she hadn't checked, yet? What was she supposed to do then?
Her relationship with Randy was hanging in the balance, and she'd be damned if some snot-nosed kid, or fucking uptight librarian would fuck that up. She needed a computer. But, on the flip side, when she finally got her man back, she wouldn't have a need for one, anymore. She could ask him directly what the plan was for the day.
There was a lot to consider and that took time; time that she didn't have right now.
The sun had already started to set, even though Torren couldn't tell by how hot it still was. Looking at the clock, she noticed it was 7:30pm. Randy wasn't due to be on camera until 9:10, which probably meant that he should be getting to the arena around 8. When they got back together, she was going to make sure he was a little more punctual with his work schedule. He had a knack for being late for things. Being late bothered her. It allowed too many variables to get in the way if she was too busy worrying about the time, instead of the important details.
If she timed this right she could get to the venue just as he did. Of course, seeing her would totally fuck him up in the head, leaving him unable to do promos or wrestle. He wouldn't be able to concentrate because he would only be thinking about her. That's what she wanted, but not for him to get hurt because he couldn't get her off his mind. Being as considerate as she was, she decided to wait until after he finished work to surprise him and live out their happily ever after.
Torren walked around her motel room naked, waiting for the thick layer of Nair shaving cream she had applied to her already hairless crotch, to work. She knew Randy hated body hair; why else would he always be so clean shaven? While she waited to feel the familiar burning sensation, indicating that it was time for the cream to be removed from the sensitive skin of her vulva, she carefully laid out her outfit for the evening.
She knew that Randy well enough know that would want her to be sexy for him, but not so much to distract him from work. She could have gone for something slutty, like those skanky bitches that he worked with. She could have gone for more demur, but then she would remind him too much of his bitch wife and completely turn him off. The last thing she wanted on their first night back together was for him to be thinking about that bitch. She could have gone for a simple pair of jeans and a t-shirt, but she Torren never did simple. It just wasn't in her DNA. No, Randy would want her to be her. That's what he loved about her. That's what attracted him to her in the first place. She would be sexy without being skanky; she would be demure without being a prude.
After going through every item in her bag, twice, she decided on an outfit that would match his. She had found out that he was supposed to wear red and black tonight. She wanted to wear a matching outfit, like real couples do. She settled on black leather chaps that tied up on the sides, and tight red boy shorts, that left the bottom half of her ass cheeks exposed. She knew he'd appreciate that touch. Her top was a red bandana that she wore as a halter top with a short black leather jacket with tassels on the sleeves. She had taken the time Bedazzle Orton's art work on the ass of the shorts and his name on the bandana, first thing that morning. He was going to love the extra touch and how she managed to balance the ensemble. It wasn't so over the top that he would be upset that everyone else was checking her out, but not so modest that his attention could be diverted by one of those sluts backstage. He loved her since of style.
Torren turned on the hot water in the shower. Not that the water got hot; it was more out of habit. She didn't mind. She was glad that the cold water gave her a break from the heat in her room. She sat on the dirty floor of the bath tub to shave her toes, just blow each knuckle. She shaved each leg three times, from her foot to her waist. When the burning feeling started to give her goose bumps all over her body, she quickly washed the cream off of her. The last time she had let it stay on, just past burning, the skin broke and she started bleeding. She was not having a bloody hoo-ha tonight. With that taken care of, she gently used the razor to remove any other pubics hair, closer to the labia minora that needed to be removed. She then shaved her backside. When she had more time, she was going to get the internal hairs bleached, since shaving them was dangerous. But, that would have to wait until later. She took a few minutes to shave her pits, followed by her arms.
If only she had someone to shave her back. She was sure she didn't have noticeable back hairs, but everybody has hair all over their body. Torren didn't want any. She washed with the bottle of Dove Body Wash that she had stuck in her bag while at the pharmacy a few days ago. She loved the smell. Shea butter and something else warm. It was going to drive Randy crazy.
Hair and body washed, completely shaven, cool and ready to go, Torren finished her shower, and walked out of the bathroom dripping wet, only using a towel to wrap around her hair. She made her way to her makeshift stereo and cranked up the music. Tonight, she needed a theme song in order to get her in the mood for what was sure to be a night to remember.
She was glad it was so hot in her room that her hair would air-dry quickly. She finger combed her wavy damp tresses hair to complete that just got out of bed, but it's really styled appearance. She knew how much he loved when her hair looked like that. It reminded him of the way she looked after they finished fucking. It had that just spent appearance, even though everything else about her looked fresh and ready for action. Randy wouldn't be able to resist her.
She spent extra time to apply her makeup, even using an extra dark, thick application of eye liner. She usually went for more subtle warm colors. They matched her tan skin tone better. She didn't know what her ethnicity was. She was sure her drunk-ass whore mother didn't, either. She doubted her mother knew anything about her side of the family, and she was willing to bet everything she owned that that bitch didn't have the foggiest idea who Torren's father was, let alone what his ethnicity was. She wasn't sure, but she figured it was some kind of Western European or Mediterranean because she was naturally dark, and tanned beautifully. But, tonight, she had bold, dark makeup, complete with varying shades of red eye shadow, and a dark red lip gloss.
Completely satisfied with how she looked, Torren locked the door to her motel room, and started down the hall. She deliberately stopped by the window and peered through the partially opened blinds of the people staying next door to her. She knocked on the window to get the attention of the young couple inside. Judging from their appearance, they were too strung out to know who she was, or that it was her music that they constantly banged on the wall about. It didn't matter, though, because she still flipped them off, and then switched down the walkway toward the stairs, just the same.
She reached her hand through the busted out window of the blue Ford Taurus to unlock the door from the inside. Torren slid into the driver's seat and leaned over find the two cords that she had pulled out from under the steering wheel when she stole the car. Flicking the cords together, she listened as the engine reluctantly turned over.
She put the car in reverse, looked in the rearview mirror at her makeup, then pulled out of the spot. As she turned onto to the road leading to the highway, she listened to the knocks, bumps, and hisses that her car made. There wasn't time to do much about it now; not when she was on her way to get her man. But, she made a mental note to do something about it later in the week. The only thing she could do was turn the music up louder to drown out the car noise.
Truthfully, she should have stolen a better car than the piece of shit Taurus that she found in the parking lot of the Quickie Mart while driving through Tulsa, Oklahoma. There had plenty of better cars there to choose from. But, no one would have wanted to take this one. It was so sad looking that she took pity on it. She had been doing the owner of this fucked up car a favor, by taking it off of their hands. The car was truly fucked. The oil light stayed on, and it drank gas like her mother drank liquor. The car had protested every inch of the ride across the three states that she traveled through in one day. She knew that it would only be a matter of time before piece of shit breathed its last breath.
She needed to get gas again, but fuck that car. She had already refueled three times since she stole it. Gas wasn't cheap and she wasn't putting another dime in that gas guzzling car. Speaking of money, she made a mental note to steal another credit card. It would only be a matter of time before the owner of the one that was tucked snuggly between her left breast and strapless bra, would eventually realize that it had been lifted from the table in the diner, and cancelled.
Laptop, butt bleaching, car, credit card, and more eyeliner from the Walgreen's…her To Do list was growing. She really needed to take some time off and take care of the necessities. Not tonight, though. She had other things to do. She couldn't do anything else, right now, but get to her man. Besides, once Orton was by her side, he would help her remember all the things she needed to do.
As she came off of the highway exit smoke started billowing out from the engine. It backed up through the exhaust system, and came through the vents, inside the cabin. It was ironic – the air-conditioning vents in the car didn't work, but they seemed to work well enough to clog the inside of the car up with thick white smoke. She drove a few more miles before the smoke was so thick that she could no longer see. As she pulled the car over to the graveled shoulder of the road, the car knocked and shook, before it finally cut off.
Just her fucking luck.
She reached under the dash to flick the cords against each other again, trying to force the ignition to catch again, but it wouldn't. The engine had nothing left to give her. "Fuck Murphy and fuck his fucking law," she said calmly as she pulled the hood release.
She opened the car door, taking care to place both black 4" high heeled boots on ground before lifting her backside from the seat. Placing her sunglasses on her eyes, she walked with one foot in front of the other to the front of the Taurus and placed her hand on the hood. It was hot, but not so hot that she couldn't feel under the front of it lever.
As she lifted the heavy metal hood and placed the rod the slot to hold it in place, Torren let the smoke from the engine engulf her. It was quite a head rush breathing in the thick engine smoke through her nose, and exhaling it from her mouth. She patiently waited for the smoke to thin out before she bent, at the waist, over the engine. She didn't know what she was looking for, but she knew that someone would see her looking over the engine and stop to help her.
Now, if only someone would actually come down this dark stretch of road, she could be back on her way to Randy.
It didn't take long before a she saw headlights rounding the bend of the road, just off to her right. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, accentuating the tight leather against her hips and lifted her ass higher in the air, to catch the driver's attention. She couldn't help but to smirk when she heard the tires of a large vehicle turn onto the graveled pavement in front of where she broke down. She didn't turn to face the car, or the driver. She didn't care who they were or what they looked like. She had an appointment to keep and this pit stop was fucking up her time table.
"You need some help?" A deep voice asked as its owner approached her.
Torren took a moment to peer around the hood, noticing that were no other cars around. "Broke down," she answered, continuing to bear her weight from one hip to the other. She placed her hands on the metal frame of the car, arched her back, and looked at the man over her shoulder. "You know something about cars?"
"Yeah," he replied, moving around to her side, looking at her, and not the smoky engine.
She gave him half a smile, as she noticed him notice her. "You a mechanic or something?" She asked standing up. She rubbed her hands together to remove some of the visible engine soot, while considering the guy in front of her. He was about 6 feet tall with a moderate build. He was dressed in blue jeans, black t-shirt and Timberland boots. He didn't look like he was more than 25 years old. Judging from the way he was looking at her and from the ring on his left hand, he wasn't too worried about her car, or his wife, for that matter.
"Nah, not a mechanic, but I work on my own car in my spare time." He smiled when she did. She was gorgeous, in that slutty kind of way. She wouldn't be dressed like and leaning over the hood of a car if she wasn't looking to have some fun. "Lemme take a look at it."
He worked on his own car? Hopefully that meant that his ran better than hers did.
Torren moved over to the side and let him take the position under the hood. "I'll be right back," he explained before walking over to bed of his F150. Grabbing a flashlight from the trunk, he took a second to admire the view of her, from behind. If he could get her car moving again, she would hopefully follow him to this cheap motel he knew that was just up the highway.
He leaned over her, and took a second to smell her hair. Damn, she smelled good. "You overheated…want to check the coolant level."
She had heard him say something else but, she had stopped listening; she was too busy watching the street. "You want me to try to start it?" she asked removing her sunglasses, before making her way to the driver's door. She wasn't sure if he answered or not. She had no intention of driving the Taurus again, even if he could get it started. She just needed to get something out of the car.
She slid into the seat, and reached down on the floor. She found the hard metal object on the floor of the passenger's side, and gripped it tightly. As she walked back around to the front of the car, she heard him still talking, presumably about the car, or maybe he was asking her out. Who the fuck knows? She was on a tight time schedule and all of his chatting was holding her up. She stood by the side of the hood, looking at the angle in which he was leaned over the hood. Quickly, she lifted her arm and with one powerful blow, she struck him in the head with the crowbar that she used to procure her now defunct car.
Torren stood over his body, looking at him intensely. God, it felt good. The rush of knowing that one minute this dude was towering over her, and the next he was on the ground. She had dropped his ass. She was the one with the power. "Thanks," she said digging her hand in his pocket to retrieve his cash, credit card and the keys to his truck. She wiped the blood on the crowbar on his shirt before walking to her new mode of transportation.
Torren sat in the truck's driver's seat, and turned on the engine. She had managed to cross one thing off of her To Do list without even planning to.
Thank God the truck had air conditioning. All this heat and humidity was bound to make her hair frizzy. She cranked the AC up as high as it would go and sat still for a moment enjoying the cool air. After a minute, she adjusted the seat, and tilted the rearview mirror to look at herself. She was starting to sweat and her eyeliner was starting to run just a bit at the corners of her eyes. She dabbed at the black liner to even out the lines, and then pushed the mirror back to where she could see. Giving the area another once-over, she made sure that no one else had seen her interaction with that guy on the ground, before pulling out from the gravel and onto the paved street.
"Ugh!" Torren yelled in the cab of the truck. Chester Bradley, the name on credit card, had shitty taste in music. She pushed the stereo button on the steering wheel to do a scan of the radio. Anything was better than country music. Once she found the local rock station, she turned up the volume and started dancing in her seat, as she drove down the road.
She was cutting it close. It was already 8:30. She needed to pick up the pace if she was going to see his ring entrance. But, traffic was not cooperating with her. It seemed like every dumb fuck in the area was on the road.
The speed limit was 40, and this fucker in front of her was doing 35. She switched to the right lane and rolled down her window. "Get the fuck outta my way!" she yelled as she passed a car driving in the left lane. Why were people trying to get in the way of her destiny? If she had time, she would have followed this asshole, and when they stopped she would have gotten out of the truck and approached the car. She wasn't sure what would transpire after that, but the thought gave her an excited flutter in her stomach. "Orton just saved your life!" she yelled, holding her arm out of the window and making a gun gesture with her fingers as she passed.
It took another 15 minutes for her to get the arena's parking lot. Of course the fucking lot was full. "Dammit." She was forced to park five blocks away. Between the heat and the heel on her boots, walking wasn't what she wanted to do. Her hair was going to frizz. She was going to start sweating, and her makeup would start to run. The balls of her feet were going to be sore, and if she broke a heel on the broken concrete of the sidewalk, someone was going to catch it, tonight.
She tried her best to control her breathing and remain calm as she walked. She couldn't afford to be all excited and pissed off when she saw Randy. It would totally fuck up the wonderful reunion she had planned. Instead, she decided to think about what she going to say to him when she saw him. Was she going to proclaim her love to him, and tell him that she was ready? Was she going to simply stand with her back against the wall and look at him with large puppy dog eyes, telling him silently that she had come for him? Was she going to run to him and jump in his arms? There were so many possibilities.
As she reached the arena walkway, she decided to be natural. Whatever she was feeling at the time that their eyes met was how she was going to great him. It's what he would expect. They had never been phony before, and she wasn't about to start the second chapter of their lives phony now.
A/N: Anyone intersted in doing a graphic for this story, should inbox me. I have some ideas of who I want to use. As always, thanks for the love!