Who Do You Love - Dean Ambrose

Chapter 33: Warning Bells

The next day I might have been a tiny bit hungover but fortunately not enough to make me want pass out or hurl and so despite making the wise choice to skip both lunch and breakfast, I was ready to go when the taping rolled around.

Roman and Seth met us down in the lobby and with no end of teased barbs that I had to repel and most of which centred around my brand new fighting prowess and hellacious roundhouse slap that they both wanted me to unveil.

"Go on baby girl, give the boss lady some pointers."

Dean snorted wryly,

"Her brawlin' days are done, from now on she's goin' back to hangin' at ringside an' takin' it easy."

Nor was he remotely kidding about that and knowing it I grinned in his direction pretty winningly and then pretend-painted a cross shape right over my heart, before burrowing in underneath his protectively tense shoulder and keeping in step as we sauntered towards the car.

The mood had been happy and pumped and victorious.

No one had seemed to notice that Seth was too quiet and neither had anyone paid much attention to the fact he had seemed muted in the dressing room as well, which was probably because his teammates and brothers were still sort of basking in the post pay-per-view glow and the fact that barely twenty four hours earlier they had buried their asshole boss and his associates as well.

Their boss and my father.

Hunter Hearst Helmsley.

The man who had loved me and made me feel wanted before totally destroying things and tearing that down and in a way that had broken my heart so dramatically and shaken my confidence so that I had yet to work it out or even begin to wrap my head around the notion that his feuding in the ring took precedence over what we'd had.

Then there was Randy.

I shuddered on instinct because frankly just the name was enough to make me ill and sap any vague type of recovery I had worked on along with my feelings of security and any sense of goodwill. Not surprising really given what the guy had done to me, or maybe that should have been tried his best to do and potentially would have even succeeded in had Kane of all people not frightened him away. Some tapings it was as much as I could do to even be there simply knowing that his bald head was prowling around and not only that but being protected by my father –

The one person beside my boyfriend who should have been calling to have him hanged.

Blowing out a breath I quickly threw out my fingers and laced them around a familiar hand, suddenly feeling Randy's latent touch across my body and getting lost within the flashbacks,

"Dean – ,"

"Princess, you okay?"

He was standing in front of me taping his wrists up but he stopped in an instant on seeing my face, noticing my stuttered and panicky breathing and knowing through spidey-sense what was going on.

"He – he – ,"

"He's not here baby, it's just me and guys, you're totally safe."

Ducking down in front of me his face filled my vision and was joined by the sensation of his hands on my cheeks, grounding me to something both real and solid and which chased away the nightmares for me anytime I asked. His thumbs stroked my skin in a soothing little motion and I shut my eyes briefly and leant into their touch, fighting down a threatening bubble of hysteria and knowing deep in my system that my boyfriend was right. Dean was there and was in no way about to leave me, so in very real terms that meant I was fine.