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I grab my gear and leave the ring. The wrestlers around me try not to stare. I want to grab them and tell them I didn’t want that. It wasn’t me, coming for a venerated past wrestler.
Instead, I hold my tongue and hit the locker room.
I bang through the doors and punch every locker in sight. I kick the benches. I whip the pile of towels to the floor. I wreck the place and I fire off orc howls that haven’t left my mouth in ages.
Every punch and kick, none of them are aimed at Joseph. They are aimed at Raucous, the dog-eat-dog industry, the manipulators, and the big mouth who let it slip about Chey and me.
Not a thing is left in place once I hit the shower. I destroyed everything around me. The hot water soothes my muscles and stings my bloodied hands but does nothing for my broken heart.
A future with Chey, a career with Fool’s Gold. It was all in the cards until today. But when Chey finds out about my time in the ring with her father, what we had will explode, too. That coming battle bothers me more than the loss of a future career with Fool’s Gold. If I’m honest, it’s not even comparable.
I stand in the falling hot water and feel nothing but cold and alone.
I hiss under my breath. “I won’t forget this, whoever you are who outed Chey and me. There’s some payback coming your way.”
My voice sounds confident. My mind is less so. I keep the latter to myself.
I stomp through the gym and bash open the doors, enraged at the world.
CHAPTER 25
Cheyanne
I hit the button, and my car window rolls down. I’ll listen, but I won’t meet Mac’s gaze. I’m not convinced this is a good thing to be doing, meeting with Fritz and Lena like this.
After accosting me at my house the other night, Mac convinced me that this was the next step. But now that I’m actually meeting him here, I’m not so sure.
“Cheyanne, c’mon. They want to meet with you in person. You know it wouldn’t be trivial if they set up an actual appointment at HQ.”
I exhale.
Nothing good comes from these meetings. Fritz and Lena will be all smiles, but now that it seems the word is out about my Disastra moonlighting, I know whatever is behind their smiles won’t be good.
Mac whips the door open and reaches for my arm before I second-guess my actions and tear out of the Raucous parking lot like the wind.
I sigh and let him pull me out. I walk with him like I’m trudging through mud.
Just what I need. A talking-to by the big wigs. It’s sure to make my breakfast curdle.
“Look, if I knew what they were going to say, I’d give you a clue. I’m only tasked as the delivery boy for the owners. Still, you did what you did. You went against your contract and it’s time to face the music. For the record, I think you’re making a mountain out of a molehill. It’s not like meeting with the owners is like going to your own execution.”
I look up from my trudging and raise my head to look at the building’s top floor. “No. It just feels like it.”
Mac shakes his head and drags me into the expansive glass and brass foyer. Every time I enter the Raucous building, I get the willies. I’m not cut out for corporate office politics or ladder climbing. I’m a wrestler, through and through. My fight is in a ring, not at a boardroom table.
We hit the executive elevator and are soon whisked up to the penthouse floor. Mac is silent, probably still a little mad at me for stepping out on him as my trainer. My eyes are glued to the floor numbers, lighting up one after another.
Why don’t OTIS elevators have breakdowns when you need them most?
The elevator doors glide open, and as we turn left, solid walnut double doors face us at the end of a long hallway. The tension-filled scene looks like it could be out of a James Bond movie where we are about to meet the dastardly villain and his lovely Persian cat. I would smile at my imagination, but nothing about this moment is even a bit funny.
I gulp air and wipe my sweaty hands on my track pants. Mac holds the right-side door open, and I stride in like my heart is beating fine, the day is great, and I’m not having a silent coronary.
“Cheyanne! You made it. Great. Have a seat over here, will you?” Fritz walks over and vigorously shakes my hand like it’s the first time he’s laid eyes on me. Okay, too weird.
“Chey, dear, yes. Do come over. We’ve laid out refreshments. I know you’ve probably come directly from the gym.” Lena waves me over to a cozy furniture grouping. The glass walls behind the overstuffed sofa afford a 180-degree view of Briarwood and its surroundings. The landscape is verdant and tranquil. Oh, how looks can deceive.
I take a bottle of water from the ice bucket and sit down at one end of the sofa with Mac at the other and Lena and Fritz facing us in two chairs. They stare at me like I’m a science experiment maturing and they are eagerly awaiting the petri dish result. I take a drink of ice-cold water and swallow. Hard.
