The angels from my nightmare (roman reigns imagine)

Chapter 11.

"So you don't want to do the story-line anymore? Why?" I was talking to Hunter about it and he called me in his office.

"Just don't want to do it. That okay?" I asked softly, not wanting to get in trouble.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay."

"Cool. So um.... will this affect me or Roman's scenes at all?"

"I don't think so. Why?"

"You ask that question a lot. I was just wondering."

"Alrighty." Hunter began stacking papers and arranging them.

I bit my lip and smiled slightly. "Alright. Thanks, again." I left the room to find Miz, who I eventually ran into.

"Hey. Have you talked to any of the Hounds lately?" He asked as we sat down at a table for lunch. Neither of us ate, we just talked.

"No. I'm scared to talk to Roman. I don't want him to blow up. AGAIN." I played with my sleeves.

"Don't worry. I'm sure he'll come around sooner or later."

"Most likely 'later'. I mean, why would he explode of something like this?" I looked up at him with confusion mixed with anger.

He sighed. When he was about to say something, he looked behind me and closed his mouth again. "What?" I asked. "Nothing. I gotta go. See you later, Em." He glared at whatever was behind me, got up and walked away.

"I take it he doesn't like me very much." Suddenly, Roman sat down next to me. I looked in front of me and I didn't even notice that Seth and Dean were sitting across from me. I rolled my eyes and just folded my hands together. "Look, I just want to talk to you." Roman sighed and set his hand on mine. I instantly pulled away and stood up. "Talk or yell? Well guess what, I'm not in the mood to either." I turned to walk away when I heard the chairs move back and footsteps following me. I sprinted to my room and slammed the door behind me. Point 5 seconds later, Roman burst through the door. "Em, look I-" He was cut off by me shoving him against a wall with my hand around his throat. I may be small, but I have a REALL good grip. "Listen, I don't know WHAT the hell was up with you yesterday. But I want you to know that I'm done with being told who I can and cannot hang out with. Copy?" He starred into my eyes, but it wasn't anger. It was regret. When he didn't answer, I pulled him closer for a second then slammed his back against the wall harder. He let out a groan of pain and I leaned closer to him. "DO YOU COPY?" I repeated. He closed his eyes and sighed. "I cop-" I leaned forward and kissed his cheek. When I pulled back, I let go of his throat and stepped back. He looked at me with his soft, loving eyes. "I thought you hated me." He walked up to me slowly, wondering if I'd back up. I didn't. I just took a step forward, wrapped my arms around his waist and hugged him. "No, I don't. I just acted this way because of what happened with my family. I didn't mean to take it out on you and the Hounds." I felt him relax and hug me back. "Can you tell me what happened?"

We sat in Roman's room with the other two. "When I was born, my father was in the army. He's where I get my attitude. My parents had already separated and my mom didn't want me but didn't put me up for adoption because my brother told her not to. My mom replied by telling him the only way she'd keep me under her roof was if Miz took care of me. Ever since then, he's been taking care of me. He's the only family I had left. When Miz was 18, my mom started blaming him for everything. So he ran away for about a week. In the middle of the night, he came back and knocked on my window. I'd go out to hang out with him. One day, he told me, he was leaving for good. He tried to get me in on going with him, having a fear that once my mom realized he was gone and wasn't coming back, she would start blaming me. When I told him I didn't want to leave, he said okay, but kept coming back to try and change my mind. When he couldn't, he stole my dad's old car, hot-wired it, and drove all the way California without looking back. A year later, I get a call from him saying to look up 'Miz, WWE' on YouTube. So I looked it up, and saw my brother with a gold belt over his shoulder. Ever since, I've been wishing I ran away with him in the first place. Not because of what job has now but because I looked up to him all my life. Hell, he SAVED my life."

"Wow." Seth looked at Dean, then back at me. "So THAT'S why you got so offensive when Roman wanted you two to stay away from each other."

"Yup. Now you guys know the whole story." I looked at Roman. "I'm sorry for blowing up on you. I really didn't mean to. I get it if you don't want me in the group."

"It's alright. Now I know why, so it's okay." He put his arm around me and I layed my head on his shoulder. 

Dean leaned forward and patted my knee. "Don't worry. You'll always be a hound to us." He winked and I laughed. "Why don't we get something to eat?" Seth asked.

We all went out and just relax. The ride there, the meal and even the ride back was quiet. I never really HAVE been much of a talker, but it was a little quiet for my getting used to.

After I got back to the arena, I went to the ring to practice.

"What's THAT doing there?" I was walking down the ramp an saw a punching bag on a boxing stand in the middle of the ring. I had my old boxing gloves on, which I made a part of my "uniform", if that's what you want to call it. I slid into the ring slowly, taking a good look at the bag. I kicked the bottom but not hard. "Nice weight." Standing in front of the bag, I decided to have a little fun and take a trip down memory lane. I stood in my boxing position and took a few swings on the bag. After I dropped my hands to my sides, I relaxed them, feeling my muscles do the same. I sighed, smiling. "Nice hits." I heard a voice from behind me. I set my hands on my hips still looking at the bag. "Thanks! This yours?" I nodded to the bag. I felt the ring moved down a little, indicating that the person had stepped in. "Yeah. You box?" They asked from behind me. "Yes, actually. I had a friend who boxed and I watched them for a while, grew to love it, so I started training myself at the age of 14. I take it YOU box?" I smiled, remembering how my friend tried to train me by swinging punches at me and laughing playfully when I couldn't doge them at the right time. "I was in MMA." They replied. NOW I know who it is. "So, Mr. Beat-The-Streak. What's it doing sitting in the middle of the ring?" I turned around and set my hands on top of my head. He chuckled. "This is how I train." He walked up the bag and threw a few good punches. "You know MOST people have this is a GYM. Not in the center of a wrestling mat." I chuckled. He shrugged and laughed a little. "I guess I'm not most people."

Brock and I helped each other train for about 2 hours. After 30 minutes, we'd relax and just talk about things. Brock gave me advice on how to "survive" in the ring during matches, who's good and who's not in his opinion, and other things. "You're actually pretty cool, surprisingly." I said, looking at the empty chairs. "What do you mean, 'surprisingly'?? I'm AWESOME!" He said, laughing. "No, MIZ is awesome, YOU'RE the douche bag who crushed everyone's dreams by destroying the Undertaker." I waved a finger at him, like a mother who says "no" to her child. He chuckled and leaned back in his seat, relaxing his arm on the back of it. He turned to me. "You're a good fighter, you know that?" I smiled and faced him. "You really think that? Thanks." He nodded in agreement. "Okay, well, I gotta go get ready for Monday which is...." I looked at my phone. "Tomorrow?! DAMN. I did NOT know it was Sunday." I said, starring at my phone with my eyes wide. Brock laughed. I chuckled and put my phone away standing up. "Hunter's putting you on RAW too?" He asked, looking up at me. I nodded and licked my lips. "Yeah, which was followed by me asking 'how come' and him responding with the stupid 'it's best for business' crap. You know how he is with that stuff but yeah so.." I smiled and jogged up the stairs.