Obsession's Embrace

The Knife

It's Tuesday. The day after another exhausting Raw episode. The day after Electra showed up again. I didn't expect her to show up in my life again. I had hoped our encounter in the club was a one-time thing.

No, you hoped it wasn't.

I'm starting to hate both my brain and my fucking vagina. Instead of being rational about the fact that I clearly have a fucking stalker, they want to fuck my stalker. Instead of, oh I don't know, being afraid about the very real possibility of harm she could bring to me?

"Boo!" Damian says as he pokes my lower back.

I scream. Yes, I fucking screamed. And jumped. Like I saw a mouse. Damian looks at me in horror and grabs my shoulders.

"Hey! It's just me. You good, Rhea?" He asks.

Grabbing my chest, I take a breath and nod.

"I'm good. You caught me off guard is all," I reply.

"Bullshit," he retorts.

I frown at him and fold my arms.

"The fuck does that mean?"

"You're never caught off guard. You're the most guarded person I know. You never scare like that," he says.

He's not wrong. I don't normally scream like that. Nor do I get caught off my game. My guarded mind isn't only in the ring. It extends to my personal life. I'm never not aware.

Except...for now.

"It's...nothing," I reply, "I thought someone was following me earlier. But they weren't."

It's not a total lie. I did think I saw Electra following me to the performance center on a motorcycle. Until the person took a separate turn and went the opposite direction.

I just left out the part about me having a stalker.

Don't ask me why. Ask my fucking pussy.

"Alright well let's get this training session over with. I have another meeting soon," he chuckles, shaking his head.

Releasing a relieved breath, I nod and we enter the ring, stretching out and chatting about what could possibly come next for us. We stand and spar. It's unconventional, but we enjoy the challenge of adapting to each other's moves.

45 minutes later we're sitting on the apron, sweating and drinking water. The doors to the center open, and someone wearing an all black leather outfit, with black combat books, and a black motorcycle helmet with the visor down walks in.

I choke on my water as the person walks by us. Their head slowly turning as they pass, making a show of looking at me. It's her. I instantly know it's her. My heart beats through my chest as my eyes follow her.

She walks into the restroom. Challenging me. I know she's daring me not to follow. I can feel it.

"I wonder who that was," Damian says, interrupting my thoughts. He shrugs. "Anyway, gotta go. I'll see you at the game night tonight?"

"Y-Yeah," I whisper breathlessly, my eyes still on the restroom door.

Damian raises an eyebrow but doesn't question me. He hops down from the apron and walks away, towards the conference room upstairs.

I slowly slide off the apron. My knees tremble and my hands begin to sweat as I walk to the restroom. I push open the door and the first thing I see is the helmet on the restroom counter. Then my eyes find her. Sitting next to it. Her legs crossed at the ankles as she swings them.

"I knew curiosity would get the better of you, babygirl," she smirks.

"I-I assumed I didn't have a choice," I whisper.