Chapter 8
Colette and the kids left the following morning just as planned, leaving behind a teary-eyed Mick. Geneva had made it back to the suite an hour before everyone woke up, wishing she could've slept in Taker's arms. He made it extremely difficult for her to leave with countless kisses and caressing. They came to an agreement to keep their affair from everyone, not needing prying noses sticking in their business.
"Have you decided on if this will be a secret affair or not?" Taker had asked, after their third round, stroking her back with his fingertips soothingly.
"Given who my Uncle is, and the fact I'm only here for two weeks, secret would be best." Once again, Geneva had stuck her foot in her mouth and suggested something she didn't want. "Unless you don't."
"It does not matter to me." Taker just wanted her and didn't care if people found out about them or not, including Foley. "I have one request though."
Geneva remembered her heart leaping into her throat when he said that, his green eyes piercing her soul. "What is it?" Her voice was quiet, fingers stroking his chest while their bodies cooled down.
"I want you to tell Foley you want your own room from now on."
Geneva had agreed without much of a fight, though she did ask for a reason. It was simple: Mark wanted her to sleep in his arms for the next thirteen days. Having her own room, Geneva would have more privacy and sneaking around would be a lot easier. She agreed and told him she'd figure out a way to get it done, deciding to use his words to convince Uncle Mick.
The next show wasn't until that Friday, which was a house show, and it was in St. Louis, Missouri. Mick had been tempted to stay at home with Colette and the kids, but was convinced to take a road trip with Geneva instead. They had four days to get there, so Mick decided to drive the fifteen hours there instead of flying. It was cheaper and private, which Geneva preferred so she could talk to him about getting her own room.
"Hey Uncle Mick, I wanted to talk to you about something." Geneva reached over to turn the radio down, both of them enjoying some classic rock.
Mick wasn't sure if he liked the sound of this, very sore and achy from his fight with Undertaker the previous night. "So talk, everything okay?" He urged, merging on I-80 North from Binghamton and adjusted his seat slightly so he was a little more comfortable.
"Yeah, everything's fine." Everything was more than fine, Geneva still had the delicious ache between her thighs from all the sex her and Mark experienced together the previous night. "I was just wondering if there was any way I could get my own hotel room." She smiled, trying to sound nonchalant. "Don't get me wrong, I love hanging out with you, but now that I'm helping Larry, I don't know when he's going to need me. Would you have a problem with that?"
"Well no…" To be honest, Mick didn't want his niece staying in a room by herself in case some of the guys tried messing with her. "I wouldn't be able to afford that though…" That was a lie, though she didn't need to know that.
Geneva grinned, blue eyes glittering. "I'm not asking you to pay for my room, Uncle Mick. I would never do that, you know me. My temporary contract said that all hotel and rental expenses would be taken care of during my two weeks. Of course I won't need a rental car because I do love traveling with you, but I really feel I do need my own room." She made sure to read over the fine print of that contract before signing it and remembered the clauses, having somewhat of a photographic memory.
Stroking his goatee thoughtfully, Mick knew he was stuck between a rock and a hard place, worried for her safety. "Well, if you insist…" Maybe he could get their rooms adjoining or something, though that would require talking to Vince McMahon and Mick didn't want to seem petty. "I suppose that's alright…"
Hearing his hesitation, Geneva could tell he wasn't pleased with this arrangement and reached over, covering his free hand with hers. "Uncle Mick, don't be worried about me. Nobody is going to hurt me. And if they do, I can defend myself." She would be in the arms of the deadliest entity in the WWF every night, so Geneva wasn't worried about anyone else screwing with her. "You have to trust me."
"I do, Gen." Mick conceded with a sigh, reaching down to grab his bottled water and took a sip out of it. "It's others that I don't trust."
"Nothing is going to happen, you worry too much." Geneva chuckled, taking a sip of her own water and turned to stare out the window, closing her eyes.
Mick had every right to worry when it came to his niece, or any member of his family for that matter, and wouldn't apologize for it. Most of the people he worked with were nice, but there were a few that had dick streaks to them. Hunter was one of them, though Mick couldn't be rude to the man when he introduced him to Geneva. He just hoped Hunter steered clear of her and didn't cause problems because he would hate to have to shove a bag of thumbtacks up the man's backside.
Halfway to their destination, Uncle Mick pulled over in Dublin, Ohio for some lunch and to use the restroom. Geneva took the opportunity to use Uncle Mick's phone and dialed Taker's number, twirling a corkscrew curl around her finger. It'd only been eight hours and she missed him deeply, hoping they arrived in St. Louis soon so she could be with him again.
"What?" His voice sounded groggy and gruff, thick with sleep.
Geneva instantly cringed, closing her eyes and knew she'd woken him up. "Sorry, it's me." She apologized in a soft voice, chewing her bottom lip. "I just…I wanted to call and tell you that we're halfway there and I'm getting my own room." It was around 2 PM where Taker was because of the hour time difference and 3 PM currently in Dublin. "I-I didn't mean to wake you…"
Taker took an afternoon nap and had slept an hour, taking a flight from Binghamton to St. Louis, laying down after checking into his hotel room. "It's fine." He rubbed his eyes, but didn't move from the bed, blinking to try clearing his blurry vision. "How'd he take it?"
"What?" Geneva became confused, raising a brow.
"Foley." Taker grunted, the room blanketed in darkness since he knew the sun still shined brightly outside, the shades drawn. "Was he upset about the room idea?"
"Yeah, he's just worried about me being alone." Geneva said, scuffing the ground with her shoe absentmindedly.
"You won't be though." Taker's voice dropped an octave, turning husky.
Geneva's body flooded with instant heat, inhaling a deep silent breath. "I know, but I can't tell him that." She muttered with flushed cheeks and rolled her eyes at Taker's chuckle.
"Not ashamed of me, are you, darlin'?" Taker asked, slipping out of bed to walk over to his mini fridge, grabbing some bottled water.
"Of course not." Geneva knew he was messing with her and shook her head, wishing to be in his arms. "I could never be ashamed of you, Taker."
Taker smirked, taking a swig of his water. "Just checking." He glanced at the clock, nodding. "Do you want me to call down and reserve you a room since you'll be getting in late?"
Geneva didn't know if that was a good idea, peering over the side of the rental and knew Uncle Mick would be out any minute. "Very nice of you to offer, but turns out Vince McMahon has it all set up for me already." She smiled, remembering her temporary contract, which she hadn't fibbed to Uncle Mick about.
"Right, your job with Larry." Taker remembered well, stroking his goatee thoughtfully. "Just let me know when you get here. My room number is 492. Call the extension and I'll come to your room." Geneva couldn't stay in his because Foley would check up on her, especially since he was overprotective.
Searing that number to memory, Geneva wouldn't forget it anytime soon. "I will, unless it's late and-"
"No." Taker cut her off, shaking his head. "I'm up late, just call me." Even if she didn't want him coming down at a late hour, he wanted to know that Geneva arrived safely. "I mean it, Neva."
Sighing exasperatedly, Geneva rolled her eyes. "Fine…"
"Don't roll those beautiful eyes either." He ordered in a husky growl, green eyes flashing. "Or else I'll bend you over my knee."
"Mmm promises, promises…" Geneva purred in return, giggling when he groaned and looked up again just as Uncle Mick headed across the lawn toward the rental. "I have to go, I'll see you tonight."
"You better. Drive safe." Taker ended the call, tossing his cell phone on the bed and looked down at the bulge in his jeans, groaning. Sleep would definitely evade him from the rest of the day.
"Ready to go?" Mick asked, jogging up to the car with an armful of snacks from the vending machines.
Geneva had tossed his cell phone back in the car before he arrived, nodding with a smile. "Yeah, did you grab my Pepsi?" She took it as soon as they were settled in the car and took the cap off, taking a long drink of it. "Thanks, do you want me to drive?"
Mick raised a brow at his niece contemplatively. "Do you know the way?" He finally asked, putting the car in reverse.
"No, but…I'm sure I can figure it out with direction from you." She replied, setting her Pepsi in the holder and folded her arms in front of her chest.
"Tell you what, if I get too tired, I'll pull over and let you drive. We still got a good 8 hours left on the road." He informed her, pulling on Interstate 71 and continued the long trek toward St. Louis.
"Suit yourself." Snuggling into the seat, Geneva got as comfortable as she could, putting the seat back a little. "How's your head?"
Mick smiled at his niece's concern, reaching over to pat her hand affectionately. "I'm fine, Gen, really. It wasn't as bad as it looked and it's not the first table I've been through." Geneva hated seeing people get hurt, especially family, and that's why Mick brought her on the road to show her how things operated.
"Uncle Mick, rationalize it however you want, but you looked like your neck nearly snapped with that fall. You were supposed to go THROUGH the table and instead went HEADFIRST." She wasn't stupid by any means, hating that he tried sugarcoating the severity of his injury.
"Gen honey, the cloth covered the table for a reason, if you didn't notice. I was meant to go through the table that way…" Mick half-lied, trying to ease her concern a little and touched the bandage on his forehead, knowing that probably could've came off before they started traveling again. "Hell, if I wasn't fine, would I drive 15 almost 16 hours to the next town?"
Grudgingly, Geneva had to admit he had a point. "Just promise me you won't do anything crazy besides going through tables and being cracked in the head with steel chairs." She wasn't sure she could handle Uncle Mick doing anything more, remembering his Cactus Jack days and paled.
Mick sighed, wondering if he should warn her about some of the ideas rolling around in his brain at the moment. "Geneva, I'm going to do whatever it takes to get fans to jump out of their chairs with wide eyes and slacked jaws. If that means bringing…other things…into matches…"
"What do you mean other things?" Geneva demanded, glancing over at her Uncle and could see the gleam in his baby blues. "Do you really have to mutilate yourself to please the fans? They love you without all the other things, Uncle Mick."
"Maybe." Mick sighed, shrugging with a boyish grin. "I still want to push the envelope a little bit though, just to see their reaction." He lived for shock value in his matches, even if he ended up losing a body part, such as half of his ear.
Geneva didn't like the sound of that and swallowed hard, clasping her hands in her lap tightly. "So what things are you planning to incorporate in your upcoming matches?" She hated asking, but the curiosity burned too fiercely to ignore it.
"Thumbtacks." Mick replied without hesitation, already having several scenarios set up in his mind that he had to go over with Undertaker. "And possibly my trusty barbed wire bat…"
"Are you out of your ever loving mind?" Geneva demanded, not believing Colette would condone this and was pretty sure her blue eyes would fall out of her skull. "Uncle Mick, that's…"
"Crazy, I know." He interrupted gleefully, moving his head from side to side at the song on the radio. "It'll be great!"
Geneva disagreed and stared out the window in thought, wondering if there was any way to convince Taker not to use those dangerous items. She knew he would be feuding with Uncle Mick past her time there in the WWF, but there had to be something she could do. Anything. How could Aunt Colette allow her husband do this? Didn't Uncle Mick care about what the kids thought, especially Noelle?
Remembering looking at pictures from when Uncle Mick wrestled overseas a few years ago as his Cactus Jack character, Geneva didn't want him losing any other body parts. He didn't care, but she did and Colette should've too! They had two small children together and he was being completely reckless! What the hell was wrong with her family?
Aunt Colette showed her some videos of Uncle Mick's matches as well, even the ones from WCW –World Championship Wrestling- another wrestling organization that treated Uncle Mick like a piece of garage. He brought his character Cactus Jack into that company as well, which is probably why Vince McMahon wanted something different from him coming into the WWF. Geneva thought the character Mankind would be less sadistic than Cactus Jack, but it looked as though it was WORSE since he literally tore his hair from his own head.
Changing the subject, Geneva and Mick talked about her schooling along with where her potential internships were. She was leaning toward Seattle, Washington at the University of Washington Medical Center. They had one of the best sports medicine and orthopedic surgical programs in the country. That's what Geneva wanted her profession to be since Uncle Mick was a wrestler and would need a lot of treatment through what was left of his career.
If he lived past using thumbtacks, tables, steel chairs and barbed wire bats.