Chapter Text
• From Chapter 46. Kevin's visit before Heather goes home to Texas to nurse her injured ankle. I actually loved this. I don't really know why I didn't go this direction with the scene. Well, here you are.
Holding her steady, he gently pulled the crutches from her grasp, even as she protested in her docile voice and propped them against the wall. "Come here, sweetness," he crooned as he scooped her up just as he had the previous night and carried her the short distance to the bed, depositing her there. He knew it was rather excessive, but he greedily took the moments to hold her against himself. Turning back, he grabbed the crutches and leaned them against the bedside table, where he assumed they had been previously.
After elevating her foot and seeing to her comfort, he should have left. He was already on borrowed time, and he was lucky it just so happened that Mark was not present at the time. Instead, he sank down, sitting on the edge of the bed. Heather's eyes widened incredulously as they flickered towards the main door and then to the bathroom. As much as she longed to have him here, the apprehension of being discovered set in.
Kevin thought briefly that maybe he should go to ease her tension, but then she spoke to him in a lilting voice, "I...I n-never took the opportunity to express my gratitude for your assistance." Her face flushed, she turned away from him and pulled the book that was lying on the bed into her lap as if it would keep her tethered to the Earth and prevent her from floating away. The thought gave him a good smirk as it did look more like a cinder block than a book.
"Lucky for you, I have quite a lenient compensation policy," he teased, gauging her reaction. Alarm painted her features as she gawked at him in bewilderment, much as he expected. She could be rather austere herself when it came to humor, and the art of sarcasm was still slightly lost on her at times. Perhaps they would work on that later.
"C-compensation? H-how would I..." Her words trailed off. He could scarcely hear her over the din emanating from the bathroom, but the perplexed expression etched on the visage spoke volumes.
He smirked at her pure innocence as he leaned into her. "Let me kiss you again, Little One," he susurrated in his warm and rich tone. His breath prickled her bare skin as her heart stopped before hammering out of her chest. His eyes bore into her with an unbearable intensity, and she sucked on a sharp breath.
• From Chapter 48. Various scenarios that were changed or cut from the 4th of July chapter.
"Is Reves in there?" she heard their father's gruff southern drawl through the door. Reves opened the door before Heather could make it there, and they both stood in the doorway. "I put up that damn slip-n-slide like ya asked. Me and Glenn made it as secure as we could. Don't go cryin' if ya get hurt," he warned.
Reves struggled not to roll her eyes as she was astonished and even grateful that he actually allowed the thing to be put up. "I highly doubt that'll happen," she mumbled. Then she cracked a grin – a painful grin. "Thanks!"
Mark eyes her in his typical suspicious manner before shifting his gaze to Heather. "You ain't thinking of hidin' out up here, are ya, girl. Your little friend is coming and all that."
Now it was Heather who had nearly rolled her eyes. She experienced an unusual sense of annoyance, probing at her patience. Her "little friend" did have a name, and it was Jeremiah. "No, Sir. Of course not," she muttered, struggling to meet his eyes. As agitated as she felt with the whole ordeal, her words still emitted in a meek response.
/
They used to be known for putting on gigantic blowouts, but that seemed to fall by the wayside as the bigger Mark became and the more he worked. At least that was the explanation Mark gave. Everyone suspected it was also due in part to Heather's mental and emotional conditions.
Whatever the reasoning, everyone was glad that the Calaways had decided to throw this bash.
/
Stopping in her tracks, Reves's jovial expression turned dark. "What the fuck is he doing here?" she demanded out loud.
Still standing in the pool, Heather squeaked apprehensively, "Wh-who?" Her eyes followed in the general course of her sister's glare.
Reves was sneering in the direction of one, Scott Hall, standing with his Kliq buddies. How the hell did he weasel his way to this party? Last she heard of him, he was off in rehab somewhere. Maybe he got a pass? No fucking way he was out already – unless he quit. Either way, smart of him to be around all of this. But what did she give a flying fuck?
Realizing her friends were now curious about who was being such a buzzkill for her, she was quick to think of a save. "Brandon fucking Bedson?" she scoffed when she noticed the douchebag jock trying to chat up a couple of Divas. "If Brittany's here, I'm going to smash her in the face," she added, although she couldn't imagine even her parents would be that moronic as to invite that two-faced bitch.
Heather glanced at the teenage boy and released an irritated sigh. That was just lovely. Her parents had failed to mention that he would be in attendance.
/
Shawn was playing the center of attention as he regaled a hilarious rib he once pulled in his usual animated fashion. Standing nearby, Stephanie McMahon and Shawn's wife, Rebecca, were clucking and shaking their heads lovingly at the ridiculous men they were forced to put up with. Kevin had heard Shawn's ludicrous version of the tale probably two dozen times, so he excused himself to the beer cooler a few feet away. It sounded like Shawn was in a storytelling mood, and he thought he might want to be a little more buzzed. Curiously, it made it easier to corroborate his buddy's account of events.
As he was bent over the cooler, Kevin's ears were met with the chime of adorable laughter. Closing the lid, he straightened to his full stature. His eyes zeroed in on the source of the sweet melody, requiring a double and even a triple take.
Holy mother of God. He knew without a doubt that the noise had come from her, but he was in no way prepared to take in the sight of her. He had been striving (rather poorly) to keep all thoughts of her at bay, and now there she was, some one hundred feet away. She wasn't simply just there before him. He had never seen her quite like this before. She was wearing a flattering bikini. She was half fucking naked.
/
"Hey, everything okay?" Kevin felt a hand on his forearm as a feminine voice asked its question. He whipped around, causing the young woman to jump back a bit in surprise. He turned to see Torrie Wilson standing before him, looking lovely as always in her bikini top and a wrap tied around her hips like a makeshift skirt. "Sorry, I was just checking on you. I've never seen you and Scott go at each other like that."
Kevin blinked down at her. She wasn't who he was expecting, honestly. "Oh. Hey, sweetie. How've you been?" he asked, wondering if his voice betrayed any traces of disappointment. He could remember there was a time, not too long ago, he would have given his left nut to be with this bombshell. But she merely saw him as a friend, and he had come to realize that he was okay with that. She was still absolutely gorgeous and sweet, but she no longer held the same level of alluring attraction for him. It was a prospect that left him somewhat perturbed, not because he feared losing attraction to her, but because the little nymphette who was playing across the yard had seemingly surpassed every other female in regard to appeal and desire for him. He stole a quick glance in her direction and noticed that she had resumed her revelry with her friends. With her dark hair, pale skin, and tiny frame, she was the complete opposite of the woman standing in front of him.
"I've been good. Really busy! We just finished up the Divas shoot for the new magazine. That was fun," She chirped enthusiastically, pulling his attention back towards her.
Despite his grouchy mood, Kevin smiled down at her. He was genuinely happy that she and Stacy Keibler were thriving in WWE after WCW's demise. There was only a handful of talent that weren't completely buried and bastardized after the buyout. But of course, Vince would never pass up the opportunity to add a couple of hot blondes to his collection.
• Chapter 53. Alternate conversation between Kevin and Mark the morning after. If you know, you know. Also part of an extended conversation with Scott.
"What the hell are you doing up so early?" Mark questioned nonchalantly. "It's like pulling teeth getting you out of bed." If something was amiss the other man wasn't letting on. Instead, he continued, "Not that I was coming to wake yer lazy ass, but since you're up, Sara is gonna be making some breakfast. I'm about to wake the kids up, so they can eat before they do their chores."
Wake the kids up? Breakfast? So he could sit across the table and look Mark and Sara in the eye, knowing what he had done to their precious daughter? His gaze shifted discreetly to the young girl's door. So he could look upon the innocent young thing that he had completely ravished and ruined? Oh, Hell no! Fuck that. I'm out, Kevin thought to himself.
While Kevin was in the midst of his existential crisis, Mark had eyed his duffel bag. "Leaving so soon?" The auburn-haired man asked before he even had the chance to make his intentions known. His demeanor was cool, but his eyes narrowed when their gazes met. It was unsettling to say the least.
Nevertheless, the blonde managed to keep his poker face. "I got a flight. Remember?" he replied casually.
"Didn't you say it was like ten-thirty? It's just after seven in the morning, ya dumbass." Mark let out a rumbling chuckle.
His reaction eased some of the tension Kevin was feeling, though he should have known better than to let his guard down. Was it that fucking early? He had no idea what time it was as he didn't bother to look at the clock. He only knew he needed to get the hell out of there, and this man was holding him up. "You know these time changes get you a little fucked up. Was gonna see if I could get an earlier one. Got some hot puss lined up," he said the first thing that came to mind, afterwards realizing how fucking stupid that sounded.
"Are you fucking serious?" Mark questioned; his green eyes fixed him for a moment before they rolled to the side.
Kevin could hardly look into those eyes, were it not for the stern and forbidding expression that they carried as opposed to the innocent curiosity that was staring back at him for what seemed like hours last night.
"Must be some damn good pussy to make you run outta here like ya robbed me blind," Mark commented.
Oh, how it was. Barely refraining from bursting out with laughter at the twisted, fucked up irony of that statement, Kevin managed to chuckle rather mirthlessly. Now he felt more like he was running for his life.
"Well, shit. Don't let me keep you from that seemingly amazing snatch. Gotta get it while we can, right?" Mark mused as he held out his hand.
Kevin glanced at his outstretched hand, then to his face, hesitating a moment, before he reached for it. He, of course, wasn't some limp-wristed pansy, but Mark's iron-clad grip took him back for a moment.
Mark said nothing, but his expression turned dark as he eyed the other man warily. Did this man think he was a fucking dope? The way he was acting was suspicious as hell. In fact, he had been acting strange ever since he came back to the company. At first, he chalked it up to the fact that no one really wanted any of them there. But Nash definitely wasn't one to give a flying fuck about what others wanted, even if it meant stepping over people to have his own way.
"You sure everything's cool?" Mark inquired in an annoyingly calm voice.
Kevin had to practically rip his hand from Mark's grasp. "Why wouldn't it be?" Kevin replied defensively, finding that he was becoming angrier than apprehensive.
Mark raised an eyebrow. "Maybe you tell me?" he said in an accusatory tone. "But like I said, don't let me keep you." He stepped aside then and allowed the other man to pass, not taking his eyes off of him until he could no longer see him from his vantage point.
Kevin knew he should have thanked Mark again for putting him up, but the manner in which he was glaring at him and questioning him was too unnerving. Exiting the house, he hastily hopped in his rental and began to drive as far away as possible.
/
"Did you really make her scream?" Scott cut in.
"Goddamn it. This isn't a joke, you asshole!" Kevin roared in frustration. But he realized how fucking stupid it all sounded. It sounded like one of those fantasy letters submitted to Hustler or Penthouse magazine. The type sent in by a forty-year-old virgin, living in his mom's basement with the writing skills of a seventh-grader.
"Yo, calm down, Chico. I've never heard you like this before. You're starting to freak me out."
That's because I've never done something this fucking stupid, and I've done a lot of stupid shit in my day! Kevin wanted to shout, but didn't. Instead, he released an exasperated sigh. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Scotty. I just, I don't know what the hell happened, and I don't know what to do."
"Are you shitting me, you prick?" Scott was hardly awake enough for this shit, but he could feel his irritation beginning to rise. So Kevin saw fit to chew his ass out every chance he got over Reves, and for what? Not to mention preaching at Kid like he was holier-than-thou Father Kevin, ready to damn him to Hell. Why? So the hypocrite could have the jailbait all to himself.