Chapter One
Hands gripped tightly upon the steering wheel, warmed by the garish sun as its rays pierced the glass barrier of he car's windshield between himself and the rest of the outside world. Weather forecasts had reported that it would be in the mid to upper forties today, but he could not tell it was supposed to be that much of a chill. Pulling down the visor to block the blinding light from his eyes, the interior of the vehicle felt as warm as any typical summer day. If he had lacked any real common sense at all, he would have rolled down his window and let his arm hang alongside the doors frame and flow with the current of air he was cutting through as he propelled the gas-driven automobile forward with nothing more then the force of a slight pressure with his foot upon a pedal.
Huge beams of steel surrounded on either side of him as he continued forward over the bridge of metal and stone, passing over the peaceful abyss of water below. Man-made structure and landmasses of the world working together as if it it were the way it had been originally intended, man simply improving upon nature's design and connecting the two islands. Steel fingers loomed ahead, flanked on both sides by the diamond sparkling blue, growing taller and larger as he approached the other side, passing under enormous stone archways at regular intervals. Higher and higher they reached into the sky, grazing and scratching at the heavens above with their antennae-like fingernails.
The hulks of metal and glass moving alongside him with the flow of the rest of the traffic were just there, not of any real importance, his mind concentrated and focused itself upon another matter since the moment he left Kameron's club. Melissa was pregnant. That was all he could think of for the past few hours. On the way to the airport, on the plane on his way back to John F. Kennedy Airport, all the way along his trail from Long Island to now crossing the bridge into Manhattan, he could not tear his mind away from the news Shane had told him. More like she was rubbing it in his face, knowing how it would effect him and taking joy in his reaction. He was going to be a father, or would he? Or would it end in the same way as had Riley's pregnancy a year and a half ago?
Devil's Playground, he had rushed into the ring following Riley's defeated, falling from grace and losing her International championship to that blonde cunt Jessica Ellis. He was terrified that she had been injured, being so fucking stubborn to step in the ring and defend that title instead of doing what was best for all of them. Would have really killed her to bow out gracefully? Putting her personal pride aside and thinking of something more important the her own self glory? Apparently so and she had put at risk a life's future which was not hers nor his to gamble. He was panic stricken at the time, meeting her as she sat on the apron a defeated woman. Her pride crushed as an insect, only know did he realize the invasion of privacy his hands touching and feeling upon her stomach must have been. Now, just as then, he could care less about her personal feelings right then, this had been her fault and he had to check for himself whether or not he could sense any signs of trauma to put his own conscious at ease. He was no doctor, but everything felt fine and normal. Far from a clinical diagnosis as it was, it was enough to calm him and push aside his worst fears. She was done and going on maternity leave. That was the end of the discussion and if she gave a shit in the slightest about their relationship, she would do what he said or he was prepared to walk right out the door. The heartache of being around her when she would eventually miscarry would be too much for him to bear.
Around and around he turned, following the exit ramp at the end of the bridge, his own emotions twisting around in knots to form a pleasing-to-the-eye bow atop the wrapped present. The promise of a normal life encased within only to open it and find a barren, dust covered interior. Christmas was right around the corner the prospect of fatherhood would be the best gift he could ever have. His one fear, however, would be that history would repeat itself. A week later, Riley had collapsed. Melissa had been with her when it happened, kneeling over her body as she lay huddled and curled into a fetal position. The frantic rush to the hospital made no difference in the future as he would be disappointed to learn later, it was over, the young life growing within her body had suffered too much abuse from her work in the ring. He could not bring himself to be able to look at her the same way again. He found himself falling into the whoring cunt of ESW's resident lesbian coke whore, Shane Sanders, and wanted nothing to do with her anymore. Even after they had decided to reconcile and marry, he could not honestly say he loved her the way he had. Paradise was lost and the once bright future he had foreseen with them months before was nothing more then a shadow. The proof that their marriage was nothing more than a shell to show and please those around us was shown to be a falsehood when she had abandoned him while he lay in a coma because of her, Melissa being the only one to stay by his side and nurse his wounded soul back to full strength.
Turning onto FDR Drive, heading north along the coast of the sliver of land that was Manhattan island, he reminded himself that Melissa was not Riley. Far from it, they were exact opposites. When Riley ran in the face of the burden of having to be the wife of a vegetable, Melissa stayed with him. Later, he was told that she came to stay by his side everyday, inquiring to the nurses for any news in a change in his condition, gripping his hand and silently praying that I would rouse himself to consciousness and not leave her alone in this world. So great had been her devotion to being at his bedside, hospital staff had begun to think she was not his sister but his wife. His divorce from Riley had been finalized, but Melissa had not once even strayed from hoping he would wake up. Unlike Riley with her quest for personal fame and become the headliner she always said she would be, Melissa would not follow him into the career of being a professional wrestler. She had other goals in mind which were focused not simply upon herself but learning and growing. Her decisions to enroll in New York University and majoring in journalism had left him with no limit to the amount of happiness he felt that she would not make the same mistake as the bitch. She was going to be better, accomplish more without putting herself at risk. It was because of that use of will to better herself and use her brain that made her love her so.
But would she continue this trend of defying the mold of his ex-wife? Would she succeed where Riley had failed? That was all that was running through his mind at the moment. Passing underneath the hulk of the Williamsburg bridge as it loomed over on top of him, the currents of the East River ebbing and flowing at his right, none of it existed. He was going to be a father. Even with the fucked up circumstances of their relationship, a child born of even inbred blood would be more precious to him then any honor he had ever received. No award, no championship title reign would ever top this, his hand clasping at his normalcy within arm's reach. The crying, a mewling infant letting out a squeal after emerging from its nine-month cocoon, the nonstop crying continued in his ears. He was so close to the life he had wanted for as long as he could possibly remember, yet his fear that it would be yanked away just as quickly as it had been dangled in front of his face as a sadistic, redneck fuck of a farmer would do with a ox to get it to work harder. It was the hope that continued to drive him, hope that he would one day snatch that dream carrot and claim it as his own and never let go.
Fifty-ninth Street now as he traveled the bottom of the canyon carved into the steel, stone and glass. What was it like to have a normal life? Society had so brain washed him with the accepted norm of normality, he could not help but feel a misfit in even this day in age. In the time when the issue of same sex marriage had been a hot button issue for most, he could not feel but somewhat ashamed for his own choice in life partner, his little sister, his own blood.
He could still feel the rain falling down upon his face, drenching him to his core. It might of well have been of the same make up as the puddle mixed with the blood of the punk kid at his feet. He felt dirty, chastising himself that he had let his temper get the best of him and do the unthinkable. No, he must not remember that night. It was not him. Not the Xavier he wanted anyone to see, but deep down inside, it lurked beneath the surface. It was patient, waiting for the right moment to defend its host when it smelt his unwillingness to do that which it felt must be done. No, he was the Xavier that Melissa loved, he was the Xavier that hoped and dreamt of the future and the potential possibilities that would grant him a better future, not the one capable of the monstrous acts he at times allowed to happen when all the emotions he kept bundled up within himself were let loose in a rage upon some object or person that had posed a threat.
Heading up Central Park West, the Park on his right still, the green oasis nestled within the maze of civilization, a jewel itself embedded into a perfectly fitted socket in the island. To him, however, it served as nothing more then a reminder of his darker side and what it was capable of when feeling provoked. What was he going to have to do to finally get the monkey off from his back and truly be a free man? Gone are the dragons to be slain by a knight in shining armor, proving himself worth of the hand of some prissy bitch with a crown, or so the stories tended to go. Somewhere, there was a mountain for him to climb, a demon to face to finally come to turns with himself.
Turning into Sixty-eighth Street, he slowly came to a stop in front of their door. The key dangled still in the ignition, engine still humming along with the oil-driven life, he looked on at the red door perched upon the pinnacle of the stairs. A green wreath hung on it, green and red ribbons wrapped around it in alternative patterns as would the striping of a candy cane. Melissa, it seems, had decided to add a touch of Christmas decor to the outside. Beyond that door lay his future, but he could not keep his eyes from gazing into the rearview mirror at the park, the place he had felt himself drawn to that night. Rain poured down onto the exterior of the car, dripping down in streams along the outside of the windows. Outside it was a bright, sunny day. Children running across the street in front of him, happy to have gotten out of school with a half day and carefree as could be, but it did nothing to resemble the torrent that was raging within himself.
His hand kicked back from the force of the recoil, the popping sound of either the weapon to the explosion of blood coming from the man's ear, an eruption of smoke from the kid's feet away. He wanted to die then, yes, it would have been a gift, and them failing to finish what they had started enraged him to no end. The skull of the fallen on behind him caved in, blood and tissue clung to the butt of the weapon, he stared down at punk kid wounded and afraid. "Please," he could still hear the voice begging him only to have the obligatory plea shot down with not so much as a sentence, but two words, "Save it."
No, not him. Not anymore. That was a completely different person. He took one last look at the doorway, thinking long and hard, wishing he could simply get out of the car and take her in his arms. He wanted to tell her just how happy he was, but before he could do it, he had things to do and demons to conquer. What kind of father would he be if he could not even be truthful with himself let alone with someone that would forever look to him for guidance. Shifting the car back into gear, he turned away from the curb, heading off to finish what had been been started three years ago. If it would end there or even if he would finally be satisfied with the result would remain to be seen.
Chapter Two
The sky above morphed from its normal shade of azure blue to a red/orange mixture, a purple line breaking from across the horizon and inching closer to him by the minute. Pillars of bark and timber tore free from their entrenchments of rooting, reaching high into the sky, their leaf-barren limps creating a canopy of skeletal fingers above him. Stripped and picked clean of their foliage, winter had now set in and sent the forest into a deep hibernation. Birds gone until the rise of Spring, the deer that called this area home going into a deep vacating the outside world for their sheltered winter homes. Life it seemed had vacated this place with reckless abandon.
The charred remains of what had at one time been a steel folding chair lay feet away, half buried beneath a sheet of dried, brown leaves. The voice, his voice, the sack of shit, he could still hear it in his head. "Come on, man. You know how it is with some chicks," he heard, "She took a little convincing the hard way is all." "She's fifteen you sick fuck," his own voice echoed. Hands held out in front of him, as if the fleshy masses would somehow create an impenetrable barrier that would stop what he saw was coming. "Please, God, no!," he yelled. Left thumb torn from the hand, followed by a quick splurge of crimson and a pain-filled shrill of a scream. He looked down at his chest, the small chimney of smoke puffing from his chest as on old train.
Here was the place he had allowed his anger, his hatred, to consume him and go to a depth of cruelty he had not imagined himself capable. He was avenging Mel's violation and humiliation, he innocence stripped from her, but was that really a proper excuse for what he had done that night? It was different that as now. Three years ago, she was merely his little sister and his only thoughts of her were about her safety and protection. Now however, things had changed as had their relationship.
She was pregnant now, of that much he was sure. Shane always had her own agenda and ulterior motives whenever she did anything, including opening her mouth to start shit or... for other purposes. Yet for some reason, he believed her when she told him that Mel had confided in her the secret she had been hiding from him for fuck knew how long. That much was enough to make it official in his mind, it was his second chance to be a father. Although this time, the situation was beyond taboo and their child would be an inbred spawn, but that much would be enough to satisfy him in his search for a "normal" life.
What kind of man was he? What kind of role model would he serve in his future role of father? He had no right to such a righteous position considering his past acts, no matter how chivalrous they had seemed at the time. Riley was dead, and for that too, he had only himself to blame for that. He had let his contempt and anger he felt for her to get the better of him. In the end, it would only eat him alive, consuming him mind, body and soul. If not for the betterment of himself and his own life, and not for Melissa and the future he had so wanted to share with her, but for the child she was now carrying within her, things were going to have to change. He was going to have to change.
How had it come to this? Before tossing Riley into that dumpster, he had beaten her to the point of near death. Now he was finding himself to be in a similar position, forced to face off in physical confrontation with another woman, Georgie Nickles. Men had learned to fear being in the ring with him because of his reputation for being a vicious competitor, but what was it about having to fight women that had always seemed to take a physiological toll upon him. Riley, Jessica Ellis and now Georgie Nickles. History would not repeat itself this time. It could not. There was absolutely nothing he could do about the past, but as to the events to come, it was time to make sure his future son or daughter would have a father they could honestly say they look up to and admire.
Yes, he would go home and make sure Melissa knew how happy he was about this and push aside any reasons she had for her fears that kept her from telling him. This was his chance, his inspiration to reach out and grasp his redemption.