Randy Orton: Unconditionally

Chapter twenty-eight

Chapter twenty-eight

            It was the morning of Christmas Eve; my mother was flying in Christmas morning. I could not sleep, something was missing. I pushed the bed against the wall where the window was. The coldness put me right to sleep. I woke up the next morning with an extra blanket on me. It was early in the morning. Six-o-clock. I heard a loud thud, as if someone dropped dumbells. I ignored it at first.

The thud came again, making me open my eyes…again it went.

            “Ugh, who can be lifting weights this early?” I scoffed, throwing on my cami and slippers. At first I thought it was Randy in the next room. I quietly opened the door and found him still asleep. He’s been asleep since we got here. It made me worry, Rebecca told me he does it all the time; build up fatigue she said.

“Once he’s awake, you’ll see a big difference in attitude” she had told me. I had to eat with strangers alone yesterday. It bothered me, I could barely eat. I slowly peak at my food as the rest of the family giggled. They would ask me a question on occasion. Where was I from, how do I like my new life in the WWE, how do you like Mrs. Orton’s cooking. South Jersey, it’s different, and yum I love fried chicken.

He gruffed as he tossed on his side, he tossed again on his bad shoulder. He gave a painful expression. His eyes squinted shut, and his nose wrinkled.

“Ahh…” I sighed, walking into his bed room. Like my mother use to do when I get injuired from kick boxing; she would let me know she was there.

            “Shh…shh…” I touched Randy’s chived cheek. His rough beard prickling my palm, he turned on his back, suddenly calm giving out a relief sigh. I smiled softly at him. It was rewarding to see him at peace. I took his covers and pulled it over him. He groaned softly in his sleep as if he was dreaming. This is very unlike me. I’m not the motherly type.

            I kissed his stiff lips softly, as he let out, “Ahh…” like an angel has kissed him. He turned his head to the left, the sun reflecting his dark hair making it look like he had gray. I smiled, he was at peace. Randy is never at peace. The thud interrupted the tender moment. It was not in Randy’s room. It was from upstairs. Invading a strangers’ home, I followed it to the attic.

            It was Bob Orton. “Oh, good morning, child…I hope I didn’t wake you…” he said.

“Um, a little…” I said, trying not to be rude. This was probably part of his morning routine. I know my dad had me up every morning jogging with him.

            “You are some demon…” Cowboy Bob said, sitting on a stool. I smiled, giggling a little.

“I owe it to my dad…”

“Was your daddy ever a wrestler…” he asked.

“No, just your ordinary kind of guy, he taught me how to kick box and our family show was wrestling…well at least with my brothers.” Bob laughed, leaning his hands on his knee caps.

            “Let me ask you this…” he said. I took a gulp as I climbed up in the attic.

“Are you infaulted with my son?” My heart jumped. My eyes bugged out. I didn’t quite know how to say it.

“Um, why did he say anything about me?” I played stupid.

“Darling, it’s not words that said it, it is his actions.” Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit! I told Randy to be careful on TV.

            I looked up at him, lifting a bar bell up to relieve stress that was circling around me.

“I personally don’t care…Randy may seem very gruff and…over powering…but deep down he’s pretty sensitive.”