Chapter 12
"Okay, why are you two staring at me like that?"
"Em, what the HELL is going on?" Randy erupted, setting the donuts down on the table and planted his hands on his hips. "Do you have amnesia or do you not care what he did to you?"
"Yeah! I mean he wrote in black ink on your forehead and called you a dorky chick. What the hell?!"
"And what about the strippers and clown?"
"And being pied in the face?"
Emery sat down at the kitchen table, frowning, the happiness in her eyes gone. "What would you have me do? He showed up at my front door yesterday morning and wanted to talk. So we talked and hashed everything out. He apologized for what he did to me and I did the same thing. I wrecked his motorcycle with spray paint, I shouldn't even be alive right now. He's not as bad as I thought…we actually had a lot of fun playing video games and watching a movie." The kiss flittered through her mind as well, refusing to bring that up. "And he didn't send the strippers and clown either. Whoever was pranking and doing shit to him, they were doing it to me and making us believe we were doing it to each other."
Mark had also taken her on a joyride and beat her backside; he could hear those loud assholes. He cranked the shower on, turning it to ice cold and stepped in. He had judged the size first, not about to get stuck. Emery didn't have a lot of stuff in there, no frilly girly crap and he wasn't really impressed with the Pantene and smelled her body wash, which was just a basic scent.
"And you don't think it was him? At all? Could this just be a giant game on his part?"
That was a good point and it explained Taker's 180 in regard to her.
"If this is a game on his part, then whatever. I don't care. I had fun with him and, until you assholes showed up, a decent night's sleep!" Mark was the one who came to visit her when nobody else had, even though she knew the boys had to stay on the road. "Even though I was suspended, basically fired, he still came here to warn me about someone pulling the strings behind these pranks and bullshit going on. So if he's playing a mind game with me, it's a piss-poor one. Thanks for the coffee and donuts, you can both see your way out." Stalking out of the kitchen, Emery slammed her bedroom door shut and took her pillow, screaming into it.
Randy ignored her drama queen act and gestured for Paul to stay put. He followed her to her room and knocked once before walking in. "Em, I know you don't want to hear it, but what we meant was… what if this all just one giant game? The pranks? He says he didn't do it, but do you know for sure? And saying the shit stopped, which it did, but coming out here to talk about it? Why would he care? It's just something to consider, okay?" He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. "Come on, don't be mad at me. I'm only saying it because I care."
Emery put her head in her hands, sighing heavily and had to consider the source. "I don't know why, but I feel in my gut he's telling me the truth." Mark didn't know about her actual position in the company, so there was nothing to use against her. If he ever found out that information, however, it would be a different story. "You know me. You know I'm not very trusting and I keep my shields up. It took you and Paul a while to break me out of my shell. This could be a game, you're right, I don't know for sure if he's telling me the truth, but my gut tells me he is. So, I'm gonna go with it and if I get burned, then I get burned. It's not like he'll come see me again because I don't work for the company anymore." She hugged Randy, kissing his cheek. "Thank you for being there for me and for caring. You and Paul mean a lot to me, even if I end up working some place different."
"Like TNA?" At her nod, Randy rolled his eyes. "There isn't a doubt in my mind that you won't be back. Matthew has no idea what the hell he's doing and it's showing. Everyone is trying to figure out how he was in 'charge' all these years, only to start sucking all of a sudden."
"PUT SOME GODDAMN CLOTHES ON!"
"Need another towel." This one only covered part of him and it was soaked already.
"EMERY!"
Rushing out of the bedroom with Randy, Emery immediately regretted it and lowered her eyes to the carpeted floor, turning red AGAIN. "Oh wow…Umm…you need…yeah okay…be right back."
She would NEVER get the image of that man bare assed naked in her living room, dripping wet! Holy fuck, she thought, needing to breathe and pulled out one of her larger towels that would at least wrap around his waist. Preferring bigger towels as opposed to small ones.
"Here you go." She handed it over, refusing to make eye contact with him and tried her damnest not to turn into a cherry.
That was more of the Undertaker than Randy ever needed to see and he groaned, turning his face away.
"Jesus man… where do you hide that thing?"
"Balls deep in your old lady's ass, quit fucking staring."
Paul had deserved that and Randy was smiling in spite of himself. "Take a picture, Paulie…"
"Be a hell of a lock screen."
Emery took control of the situation and managed to shove Mark down the hallway, only because he let her. She'd taken one of the towels, covering his backside with it while shoving, shaking her head. There was no way she could move him otherwise.
"I'll grab your stuff from the bathroom." She muttered, not caring that he was in her bedroom and shut the door, flipping both of her boys the bird when Randy started laughing while it was Paul's turn to look as red as a cherry. Grabbing Mark's clothes, Emery hurried into her room and shut the door so the nimrods couldn't gawk at him. "Here you go. Do you need anything else?"
Mark could think of a few things. He had the towel off his hips and he was slightly bent, toweling his hair dry, his backside right in her line of view. She had walked in on him and he felt no shame whatsoever; he was in the best shape of his life and proud of how he looked.
"Nope, I'm good." He turned to face her. Her height probably made it awkward because now he was eggs up so to speak.
"Okay then, I'll leave you to it."
Emery walked out, making sure not to open the door too much for the boys to gawk again. She walked out to the living room and joined them, seeing they already had Call of Duty on the television. Her home was theirs, it wasn't the first time they came to visit her. That was why Paul had a key and so did Randy. Emery waved off the controller, leaning back against the couch and watched her boys play each other, smirking when Paul beat Randy.
"Oh, our guild has another meeting tonight, so don't forget about it." She reminded her partner, seeing him nod and stood up to go shut the coffee maker off along with putting the donuts away so they didn't go stale. Also, she had to get walking in on Mark Calaway naked in her bedroom out of her mind.
"Why do you think I'm here?" Randy smirked at her before sharing a look with Paul. "We're traveling through this area for shows, so… we figured we'd crash here tonight, if you don't mind." Their bags were out in the rental including his laptop.
"You guys are dorks. So, who was playing Blur?"
That was what had been in the system before he had switched everything out.
"Well…you're not gonna believe it, but…" She poked her head around the doorway that lead to the kitchen and pointed down the hallway toward her bedroom.
"No fucking way!"
"Seriously?! He…" Paul snapped his mouth shut when the bedroom door opened and went back to playing the game.
Emery giggled to herself while finishing in the kitchen, deciding she would have to feed the mongrels since they were staying with her. If Mark joined the fray, she would be shocked, but it would be nice. Sleeping in his arms, on top of him rather, the previous night felt amazing. She'd woken up through the night, seeing he had shifted both of them to lay on the couch with her on top and felt completely content with the position.
"What's for breakfast?" Mark asked with a yawn even as he reached for his now lukewarm coffee.
He drained it and got a refill, needing to go get his bag and change his clothes. Mark hadn't been planning on spending the night. He then idly wondered if she could cook or if she did microwavable meals.
"Hey Deadman, you want to play Call of Duty with us?"
His eyes narrowed when he heard the sniggers.
Randy could not resist and Emery could tell the big man didn't want donuts for breakfast, shrugging. "Let's see…how does eggs, biscuits and gravy and sausage links sound?"
At his nod, she smiled and pulled out everything she would need to make the food. Her mother had taught her how to cook, which was the only thing she'd gotten from her while her father was a geek at heart. Video games, computers…he was incredibly tech-savvy, even at his age.
"You boys still hungry in there?"
"Dumb question, Em!"
"We're bottomless pits – wait, you're gonna cook for us?" Paul said a quick prayer to the heavens, grinning. "Man, we need to come here more often and – GODDAMN IT, ORTON, YOU GOT ME BLOWN UP!"
"Indoor voices, children!" Emery had also changed into new black cotton shorts and dark green tank top, having clothes folded in the laundry room she hadn't put away yet.
Shaking his head, Mark headed out to his truck to get his stuff. On his way back in, he spotted Cindy and waved. When she flipped him off, he began laughing his ass off. Nosy bitch. "Mind if I borrow your bedroom again Queenie?"
"Help yourself, Deadman." She called over her shoulder, busy cracking the eggs in the bowl while the bacon fried in the pan.
She always added bacon bits, crushed, into her gravy and made the gravy from scratch using flour and bacon grease. Emery flipped the bacon and turned on the radio in her kitchen to classic rock, beginning to dance while cooking. Luckily, Mark had braided her hair back for her earlier, fixing it, so she didn't have to worry about getting any in the food.
"We entered the goddamn twilight zone."
"Agreed."
When he came out of the bedroom, he had changed into a pair of faded blue jeans and a black wife beater, foregoing the shoes. Mark had left his still damp hair down and was finger combing it when he padded into the kitchen. Halting, Mark could only stare as she danced while cooking, her hips swaying in time to the music. Smirking, he walked up behind her, placed his hands on her waist and swayed with her, laughing in her ear when she jumped.
"Relax, Queenie."
"That's it, I'm buying you a bell and you're gonna wear it." Mark moved way too quietly for a man his size as she flipped another piece of bacon in the frying pan. She didn't move away from him, continuing to sway and took a piece of bacon to hold up over her shoulder. "Try it and tell me if it's perfect." Emery knew it was and had to suppress a shiver as his mouth engulfed the piece of bacon, his tongue sliding across her fingertips. "Well, how it is and do you mind scrambled eggs?"
"My favorite, if you skip the milk and cook them in butter." Because scrambled eggs were only done one way right. He smirked when she nodded, resting his chin on her shoulder as he watched, both of them still swaying to the music. "And delicious by the way." He whispered in her ear.
Paul was recording it all on his cell phone for posterity. This was wrong, on so many levels.
"Today's your lucky day because I only cook my eggs in butter." Emery flashed a smirk of her own and continued cooking, not minding Mark's hands on her hips or his mouth right by her ear. This felt right, comforting and Randy's warning of this being a mind game flew right out of her mind. "Who is your favorite band?" Emery took him for a classic rock guy and smiled at his answer. "Metallica is pretty damn good, I must say. Their old stuff, especially." No sooner did she say that, Enter Sandman came through the speakers and she laughed at the irony, pouring the eggs in the pan before stirring her gravy, already adding the milk to the browned flour.
Emery was so absorbed in Taker, cooking, dancing and chatting, she was completely oblivious to the fact that Paul was recording this. Randy imagined, if things didn't pan out for them, they could sell the video to TMZ or something for a pretty penny. The Undertaker, dancing in a kitchen, barefoot at that.
"You have some freaky toes, man."
Paul hid the cell.
"Not as freaky as yours, Stubby." Emery shot back, grinning at Randy's scowl and winked at Mark over her shoulder.
If she knew Paul had recorded this moment, she would've socked him in the nose. Some moments were meant to be private. She hated social media because it had ruined wrestling for true fans who enjoyed being legitimately shocked like the old days. The Attitude Era days, where everything was unpredictable, fresh and real.
"Oops, gotta pop the biscuits in." Bending over in front of Mark, since he was directly behind her, Emery already had the oven preheated and shut the door before resuming with the sausage links. "Breakfast will be ready soon, boys. Stop or save the game."
"Where'd you learn to cook?" Mark wondered if it would taste as good as it smelled.
"My Mom, as most girls do. It's the only thing she taught me cause my Dad…he's the true nerd of the family."
The man had 3 computers just in his study and they were all used for different reasons. Granted, Emery owned a few herself, but only brought one on the road with her when she worked for the WWE. Paul and Randy had already vacated, so it was just the two of them again.
"The plates are up there, will you grab them and put them on the table for me?" She smiled as he did as she asked and turned the heat off on the gravy, which was nice and thick with tiny bacon bits throughout it.
Mark set the table without a word, eyeballing everything around him while also paying attention to her and what she was doing. Emery wasn't the geek he had assumed, though she definitely cultivated that image about herself. She said true nerd, but never explained anything beyond that. Shaking his head, he forced it out of his mind. He'd eat and leave before Randy acted on those impulses of his and forced a fight.
After breakfast, Mark announced he was leaving, so Emery walked him outside and made the boys stay inside, though they were watching through the window. "Well, I guess this is it." She slid her hands into the back pocket of her jean shorts and hid her disappointment well, not wanting him to leave. "Take care of yourself, Mark. Thank you for coming to talk to me." Emery didn't do goodbyes very well, watching him toss his bag in the bed of the truck he drove here and kept her eyes on him. "I hope I wasn't too big of a bore."
"It was a trip." Mark said with a shrug.
He definitely hadn't been bored and he had learned quite a bit about the woman under the dorky t-shirts. Like… if she actually applied herself, she could probably be a smoking babe. She already had the body, he knew because he had felt it up close and personal.
"I left my cell number scrawled on that thing you had hanging up on your fridge." When her eyes widened behind those glasses, Mark began laughing. "What?" Was he that bad? Well yeah, Mark was and reached out to push her glasses back up her nose. "Call me sometime, maybe we can link up for a game of Blur."
"What the actual fuck?"
"Get out of the window, dork."
He left his number…Emery beamed brightly and nodded, sky blues twinkling at the memory of their Blur gaming venture. "I will." She stepped back as he got in his truck and blinked when he swept her up into his arms, hugging her close and her arms instinctively went around his neck. "Drive safely, Mark." She murmured in his ear, feeling his arms squeeze her a little tighter and felt the reluctance to release her as he stepped into the truck to fire it up. Emery stepped back, waving her fingers and headed back inside, wondering if she would ever see him again.
"I really hope she doesn't fall for that asshole." Paul grumbled, watching as Emery headed towards the house, the weirdest smile on her face. He had seen that look before, whenever a new gaming system was announced. Instant happiness. That was just wrong. "And if he's playing games with her, I'm breaking his joystick."
"You and me both, but I really mean it. You'd be too busy staring at the damn thing." Randy snorted, shaking his head as he retreated. He'd just watch and wait; if Taker stepped one toe out of line as this weird friendship continued, he'd break the old man's back.