Memphis was fighting mad by the time she got back to the hotel. It must have been quite the scene as she emerged from the taxi cab, long brown messily hanging from what was left of her haphazard bun, striped referee's shirt all wrinkled and pulled out of the black trousers, blood staining the clothing from her bruised mouth. People were staring but she did not care. She walked through the lobby and onto the elevator up to her suite, the one that she shared with Randy Orton. They still had two more nights there, due to RAW upcoming. It was the only week in pro wrestling where the talent and crew would spend up to seven nights in the same hotel room.

It was already tense. The week had been stressful leading up to the Orton Punk showdown. Wrestlemania week was supposed to be the best week in all of sports entertainment and Memphis had been particularly excited because it was her first one. But it had turned out to be a nightmare. It was the one altercation Memphis had been desperate to avoid but it was inevitable. It had happened and it was one for the ages. Two men had nearly killed each other. Years of animosity and downright hate had culminated in street fight rules. And if Vince McMahon's philosophy (making a dollar at any cost so long as it was in the name of entertainment) worked, then everybody won. The match had been a huge fan and commercial success, it would keep the media, non-sports affiliated and sports affiliated alike, talking about the WWE, and to top it off, both Phil and Randy would get nice little bonuses in their paychecks, equivalent to the average fan's yearly salary.

But money wasn't everything. Some things were more important, believe it or not. Dignity. Principle. It had killed her to watch an all out brawl, knowing that she was the reason for her it all, the proverbial straw that had broke the camel's back. It had been painful to see and her boyfriend's unexpected caveman like claim on her at the end had been humiliating…as if the whole Titantron promo, preceding radio interview, and numerous slanderous gossip that appeared several times a day on Superstar Scoop wasn't embarrassing enough.

She had no idea what she was going to do, where she was going to go. She just knew that she had to get out of that arena, away from Randy and Phil and Vince and the fans and everyone else. Cursing out loud, Memphis punched the wall. Then she took a look in the mirror at her face. She looked like she had been in a bit of a mini-brawl herself but it was only the result of a lover's kiss. Collapsing on the bed, she put her head in her hands and tried to get it together, to somehow clear her mind.

It was an hour and a half later that she heard fumbling at the door before it opened. It was Randy, of course. He sauntered in almost nonchalantly. He was wearing one of his Apex Predator tee shirts along with sneakers and workout shorts. An expensive gym bag was slung casually over one of his broad shoulders. He walked in the room and put the bag down before plugging his cell phone charger in the wall.

"Really Randy?" she asked after a minute.

He didn't even bother to look at her.

"What?"

She was floored.

"So you just walk in here like nothing even happened tonight and you refuse to even acknowledge me?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he coolly replied.

Memphis leapt to her feet.

"Oh and thanks for being such a concerned boyfriend that you immediately fled the arena to come chase after and comfort me, you asshole," she sarcastically muttered. "I have been here like an hour and a half."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"I had to ice down, get checked out by the trainers."

"You ever heard of a phone?"

"You were upset. You left. You were already mad at me, hell, you've been mad at me for the past two weeks. Nothing I do or say is right anymore, it doesn't comfort you, so why bother?"

She threw her hands in the air.

"You are so unbelievable. You know that? Unbelievable and selfish!"

Randy chuckled.

"If you think I am gonna run after you and kiss your ass, I mean, if that was what the big exit was for…sorry, sweetheart, you got the wrong guy."

She closed her eyes.

"Don't you dare stand there and judge me and try to minimize my feelings because you don't have any. Excuse me for being so affected by what I just saw in the ring, two people that I care very much for each trying to end the other's career."

"Look, I don't want to keep hearing about that. Why do you insist on beating this dead horse? It was bound to happen. Whether it was you, whether it was Maria, whether it was the fact that we just don't fucking like each other and never have…it was just bound to happen. And it did. Yeah, it got crazy but so what? It's over, Memphis. Now we can all move on with our lives. It needed to happen and it did and now it is over."

He had a point but she was still angry that he wasn't respecting her feelings about how it had all come to happen.

"Randy…"

"For the love of Christ! What now? What is it, Memphis?"

"Look at me," she marched right up to him. "Look what you did to me! Don't you even care?"

He sighed. Of course he cared.

"I am sorry about the bruise. And if it hurts, yeah, I am sorry about that, too. Not my intention."

"Not your intention?" she folded her arms. "Well, why don't you enlighten me? Tell me, what the hell exactly was your intention when you did that to me in front of the whole world!"

"Me and Phil tore each other apart and in the process, probably put on the best match of the night. Vince let him get over because either he felt sorry for him or he thought he was sticking it to me or maybe both but guess what? I don't give a fuck. Yeah, I said it's over and I meant that. As far as I am concerned, everything is squashed. I still don't like the guy and never will. We ain't gonna be best friends anytime soon and that's okay. But unless he gets in my face or your face and starts some shit, there should never be another confrontation between us. That's how I feel about the situation but him standing in the ring trying to look all victorious like he got the best of me? Fuck that. Despite all the shit he talks to you, he still loves you. He still wants to be with you and that was just my way of telling him that he can never have you."

Memphis couldn't even think of Phil still having feelings for her. It was too painful.

"So you own me now? What, you get to speak for me now?"

"No."

"That's what it seems like you're trying to say. You made your little statement and you did it for the whole world to see so now everybody knows. What happens tomorrow, Ran? Huh? Just give me a little heads up so I can be prepared for what's to come. You start telling me what to wear? Who to talk to? You gonna start smacking me around?"

Randy rolled his eyes.

"Stop being so goddamned dramatic. You know it's not like that."

"Then what is it like?"

She pushed him hard. She was pretty strong. No real match for him but just enough to piss him off.

"I'm not a woman beater, if that's what you're trying to get at" he looked right at her.

"May as well be. You're already a fucking coward," she spat.

Randy clenched his fists.

"Memphis, don't push me," he warned.

"Or what? What are you gonna do?"

He laughed right in her face.

"There you go again, trying to manipulate the situation, make yourself feel better. You made the choice. I didn't force you to do anything. And if you wanted to be with him, then you should have stayed. Point blank. But you chose and obviously you're still here. So the sooner you realize and accept me for who I am and that I am never gonna be Phil, the better off you will be."

"Fuck you, you unimaginable bastard. You have no right to say that to me and you know it."

"So that's what it is gonna be like the rest of night? You bitching about everything and nothing?"

"Don't you walk away from me!"

Randy just shook his head.

"I am out of here!"

"Randy! What…"

"I am not gonna sit here and fight with you all night. I am gonna get in the shower, get dressed, go get something to eat, have some drinks, maybe hit up a strip club and try to enjoy what is left of my night."

She was stunned. Memphis looked right in his eyes and he stared back, unapologetic and as serious as a heart attack. She was so enraged about him turning his back without a care that she hadn't even had time to process and subsequently flip out about the strippers.

"You son of a bitch!" she called out.

"Memphis, leave me alone," he turned his back.

Her fury and scorn was bordering on dangerous. She felt out of control. How dare he! She ran after him and grabbed him roughly by the shoulder. He was bigger and stronger and was resisting her efforts to get him to look at her. Finally, she just hauled off and punched him dead in his face.

The second her fist made contact with him, she immediately regretted it. She knew it was wrong, that she shouldn't have done it but her resentment wouldn't allow her to behave rationally. Still, she recoiled and whimpered at what she had done. She saw his head bounce back a little bit. There was surprise in his blue eyes. Then rage. Out of instinct that happened before he thought of himself, perhaps out of reflex, he slapped her hard. It took her off balance and she landed on their bed. Randy was a mass of every emotion you could dream of. Seeing Memphis on the bed stirred up yet one more feeling. She looked vulnerable, scared even. But it didn't matter. He would never hurt her again on purpose. In an instant, he had lost all control of self and both knew that is what she had been goading to happen. So if that was what she wanted, he was going to give it to her.

He quickly removed his short, then hovered his large framed body over her. With one hand at her throat, he used to the other slide off his shorts. He wasn't wearing any underwear, and the minute she saw him naked and rock hard, she moaned, her furied resistance turning into whimpers of desire. He pulled off her black pants and tore at her panties. He put two fingers in his mouth to get them slick before she shoved them inside her. He knew she wanted him. Memphis knew it too. But she was feisty. She had never let him get away with anything and she would be damned if she was about to start now. So she struggled against him, pushing at his arm but he only knocked it away. He spread her thighs completely apart with his knee, then plowed himself into her. She gasped, grunted, then wrapped her legs around him and begged for more.

It had been an emotion filled night. Both had been angry. But what had needed to happen had finally happened, thus allowing all of them to move on. She, they, could finally close the book on Phil Brooks. A new chapter for them was ready to begin. Randy wasn't perfect but he was perfect for her.