DISCLAIMER: As much as it breaks my heart to admit it, I do not own anyone or anything connected to Vince McMahon and his awesomeness. I can only claim property rights of OC.
*** A/N -- I know this is a shortie but I think it's a goodie! Don't forget to review! * * *
Randy's P.O.V. – Much later that night
It's just after 1 A.M. and I'm just starting to settle down in my hotel room. I'm tired and sore. After the longest, hottest shower of my life, all I want was a good night's sleep but my brain just won't turn off. My thoughts are still so consumed with Claire. I know I'm one lucky bastard. What happened back at the arena was a one-in-a-million shot. Claire is not the kind of girl to let herself get caught up in certain situations. So why the hell had she given herself to me so completely? No matter how hard I try, I just can't figure it out. Closing my eyes, I can still see her, how beautiful and perfect she is. I'll never see anything like that again as long as I live. I can still hear her throaty moans. God, just thinking about it makes me hot. I can't help but wonder what it will be like when I finally do have my way with her. It's definitely a matter of when, not if. We both know it, whether or not she'll ever admit it.
There's a knock on the door, it pulls me from my thoughts of Claire. I'm tempted to let them keep knocking. The knocking gets louder, the sound of a heavy fist pounding on the wood pisses me off. I fling the door open and find myself looking at Mark Calaway.
"You alone?" Now I'm definitely pissed. Mark has a lot of fucking nerve pounding on my door at this time of morning.
"What do you want?" My arms cross over my chest as I look at the big man. He looks as tired and pissed off as I am. His lips are pulled into a tight, thin line. Neither one of us in a mood to deal with bullshit. Better to get this little meeting over with as quickly as possible.
Mark pushes past me to stand in the center of the room, "What's your game, Orton?"
Closing the door behind him, I turn to face him. Game? What the hell is he talking about? Maybe he has me and Hunter mixed up, "What's your problem?"
"What are you doing to Claire?"
Arching a brow, I look Mark over from head to toe. What the hell does he think he's doing? It's none of his damned business what happens between Claire and I. Last I checked we are both consenting adults; we can do as we damn well please. Not that I have to explain any of this to him. I keep silent, waiting for him to get to the point.
"Damn it, Orton. For once in your life, act like a human, will ya? Answer the question, what's going on between you two?"
I shrug slightly and close the door, "What's it to you?"
Mark stares at me with steady eyes. A lesser man would have melted under that steely gaze. It's a damned good thing I'm not a lesser man. I don't intimidate easily, especially in situations like this. Taking a deep breath Mark crosses his thick arms over his chest. We stand there, arms crossed over chest, looking at each other. "Growing up in Texas I learned a lot about snakes. Learned that you have to keep a close eye on them. You never know when they'll strike."
I force myself to keep silent, no sense in interrupting his little trip down memory lane.
"And every so often a snake has to shed it's skin. When it gets ready to shed, it's gets aggressive, unpredictable. That's when you have to keep a close eye on it. Make sure it doesn't hurt somebody. But after a while, the snake sheds it's old skin and it grows another, just like it. No matter what, that new skin is always the same."
Shaking my head slowly, I can't help but smile. Mark is usually straight to the point. Very rarely does he take the poetic route. It's kinda cute. "What's your point?"
Mark's arms fall to his sides as he continues to stare at me. "You may think you're foolin' some people around here. But not me. I see you for what you are; a no good snake. Maybe you've got Claire believin' you're a changed man. But we both know better. You're no different than you were a month ago and no different than you'll be a year from now. So I'm gonna make it real clear for ya. Leave Claire alone. She's too good for you."
Now the man does have a point. Claire is too good for me. She's the sweetest, most honest woman I've ever met. "Whatever happens with Claire is none of your business."
"I know what kind of man you are, Orton."
I can't hold back a snort of laughter, "Yeah? What kind of man is that?" I can't wait to hear his answer.
"A user. Plain and simple. You take what ever you want, no matter who it belongs to. You take advantage of people that don't know any better."
So that's what his problem is, "You think I'm taking advantage of Claire?" I want to hear him admit it.
"No, I KNOW you're takin' advantage of that girl. And you're going to stop. Right now. Before she ends up getting' hurt."
"You think so?"
Mark nods solemnly, "I know so. Claire doesn't know what she's getting' herself into. She doesn't know what kind of man you really are."
A dark, nasty laugh bubbles up from deep inside, "What makes you think you're a better man? Huh, Mark? From where I'm standing, you're no better than I am." A look of confusion crosses Mark's heavy features, "Your reputation is just as black as mine. How many times have you been caught screwing around? Don't look so surprised. You haven't been as careful as you think you have. I know you were involved with Michelle before Sara divorced you." Mark's face turned a sickly shade of grey. Apparently he was just finding out that he was not nearly as discreet as he thought he'd been.
"How do you know that?" Mark was forcing himself to remain calm.
"That really doesn't matter, does it? We both know it's the truth. And who can blame you? Michelle is one hot piece of ass. But that's all she is, right? All she'll ever be? Problem is, she doesn't know that. You keep leading her on, letting her think she's so different than all the others. But she's not; she's just like every other woman you've screwed around with." I know my words are hitting Mark like a fist.
"There's a big difference between the two of us, Mark. When I'm with a woman, she knows the score. From day one, she knows it's only going to last for as long as I want it to. They know it's a fuck and run. I don't make it out to be anything more than that."
Mark winces slightly, my words hitting too close to home for comfort, "How can you do that to a girl like her?"
"I'm not doing a damned thing that she doesn't want." Let him take that however he wants to. I don't have to explain a damned thing to him.
"She's not the kind of woman you just use and then throw away."
Now that is something I can definitely agree to. Claire is the kind of woman that you love and cherish. She is the kind of woman I would gladly lay my life down for. No questions asked. I will do whatever it takes to keep her safe and happy, "I know she's not."
"Then what the hell are you doing? Why don't you just leave her alone? She's just goin' to end up getting' hurt."
I wish to hell and back that I could just leave her alone! Her life, and mine, would be much less complicated if I could. But Claire is like a drug, no matter how much I have, I just want more. I crave more. I pray for more. I need her with an intensity that scares me shitless. I can't stop thinking of ways to keep her close to me. Just the sight of her makes me feel like I'm the only man in the world. It's a feeling I'll do anything to keep. "We're just going to have to agree to disagree. No way in hell am I going to leave her alone."
Mark's deep green eyes burn into me. I can feel the waves of anger flowing off him. He is seriously pissed off. Serves the bastard right for trying to get involved in something that's absolutely none of his business, "Care to reconsider that?" Mark's clenching his fists so tightly I can hear his knuckles crack.
"Go ahead, man. Take a swing at me. Beat me senseless. It won't do a damned bit of good." I take a step toward Mark, bringing us nose to nose. "Claire is the only one who can decide what she wants. And what she wants is me."
Mark's eyes narrow as he looks me in the eye, "God only knows why she would. Let's get one thing straight, you and me." Mark lifts his hand, his thick finger jabbing me in the chest to punctuate each word, "If you hurt her, I will kill you. Painfully. Slowly. And I will enjoy every second as I skin your sorry ass. Make no mistake Orton, I will have no problem taking out a snake."
Mark glares at me for a moment longer then pushes past me. The door slams behind him with an echo. Letting go of a pent up breath, I move to the door and lock it.
*** A/N -- Please review! ***
