The Princess of The Ambrose Asylum ( Book 1of 3)

4

When my eyes fluttered open again the next morning, I immediately wanted to close them again. The bright light seeping through the tiny gap in the curtains paired with the throbbing in my head did not make for a good mix. I threw my arm over my face and immediately regretted every drop of alcohol that had entered my body the night before.

I was never going out drinking with Paige ever again, that was for sure.

I spent a few minutes letting my body awaken before cautiously removing my arm and slowly opening my eyes, letting them adjust to the light.

And that's when my eyes widened.

I didn't recognise the ceiling, I didn't recognise the walls, and the bed certainly didn't feel like the one I'd been in the night before. I slowly sat up, gazing around the alien room, wondering where the fuck I was and how I'd gotten here in the first place. It was the little things I noticed. The aftershave on the bedside table, the pair of shoes by the door, the open suitcase on the floor filled with men's clothing.

And that's when it hit me. I knew exactly where I was, exactly who'd brought me here, and exactly the reason why.

I groaned, lying back down again, throwing the quilt over my head. I wanted a black hole to appear, swallow me up, and never let me see the light of day again.

Memories of last night came rushing back, every last drunken moment of it. I couldn't believe what an idiot I'd been, how foolish I must have looked, and how immature Dean Ambrose and the rest of The Shield boys must think I was.

Of all the people to see me in such a shit state, it had to be one of the dominant factions in WWE history . Lord knows what Dean thought of me. I must have made a terrible impression - first night of them being  the shield again  and they're having to help the boss's drunken daughter  to bed because she's too fucking inebriated to stand up.

Way to go, Mackenize!

They must think I was a joke, an idiot, a total drunk.

And to make matters worse Dean had had to take me to his room and offer me his bed because I couldn't remember my room number and had completely forgotten my room key.

I threw my hands over my face from underneath the quilt, fucking hating myself right then. I felt so embarrassed, so mortified, so humiliated, and I knew my cheeks were bright red.

And to make matters worse, the only way out of this room was through the bedroom door and through the main living area of the hotel room, a place where Roman, Seth and Dean were no doubt currently sitting. I'd have to pass them in order to leave and so I'd have to face them and see them after the idiot I'd been.

I threw the quilt off my body, looking towards the door, a nauseous feeling rising in my stomach. It wasn't from the drink either; it was from the sheer fear of having to face them and hear their opinions on how stupid I must be.

My mouth tasted like ass, and I knew I needed food in my stomach, so I slowly got out of the bed, cautiously making my way to the door, wobbling a little on my feet. There was no time like the present, and the longer I sat stewing in the bedroom, the less confidence I'd have to go out there and face the music. So I slowly turned the knob and opened the door.

"Well look who's finally decided to wake up and grace us with her presence," smirked Seth, the noise of my entrance causing three pairs of eyes to look straight towards me.

"M-Morning, guys," I mumbled, slowly entering the main area of the hotel room. Seth was preparing coffee whilst Roman sat at the table, flicking through the newspaper. Dean was on a sofa, watching TV.