Druscilla White and the Kingdom of the Numbskull.

By: Druscilla White

Writing Prompt: No

Date: 13th Aug 2021

The week I spent with Tara in the Keys was amazing. Truly. But I am a creature of the darkness. Too much sun down there, I spent most of the time under a parasol and large floppy hat. I did get to see some nice surfer boys, though. Made my mouth water, but unfortunately, none made any advances. My tattoos and resting bitch face may have had something to do with it, or maybe they like tan women. Whichever, I need to remember to thank Tara again for that much needed trip. I owed her a nice spa day the next time she was in New York. Afterall, we still had so much to work on for her charity cruise coming up. I’m sure she knew how excited I was to be a part of it, and how excited I was to be a sponsor!

But once I was home…

Another mystery I had to solve since I got back from the Keys. Were these two actually our parents? I had already given Zion samples of my DNA as well as Diesel’s and Mama’s. But gathering Henry’s was proving to be a challenge. It was almost as if he were telling the truth and he had spent the majority of his life as a Professor turned Spy. I had spent days trying to either get a few strands of his greying hair, or even a used napkin… Anything. It was beginning to piss me off, honestly. As if I didn’t have better things to do? I had a wrestling career to think of! I mean, I had beaten Tommy Kain recently, so I had other things on my mind. I had work on my mind. Who my next opponent was. How I was going to beat them.

When I had almost given up, he made one mistake. He left his toothbrush unattended in my bathroom. I replaced it with an identical one and hurried to Zion. ”Here! Finally, fucking Hel it took forever!” She shook her head at me. ”D, are you sure you really want to know? Don’t you see how happy Diesel is, how happy you’ve been? Hmm?” I rolled my eyes at her. ”Fucksake Z, c’mon, I have spent most of my damned life doubting everything. Who I was. What I was capable of. Who I was meant to be. And now? Now they come back into my life, and once again I’m questioning things. I need answers. Ok?” Her lips thinned as they tightened, and she nodded her head. ”Alright, I’ll test this, but don’t bite my head off if you don’t like the answer.” I rolled my eyes once more and turned to leave her room. I had things to do.

Mama had told me about her cousin Nikolai, and that he might be showing up at some point, so I had to finish renovating one of the apartments for him. DruKrew Towers had changed drastically since I acquired it from The Cheeto. Cheaper rent. Nicer apartments. Better amenities. Much nicer landlady. I didn’t know much about Nikolai but what I did know, he sounded exactly like my cousin Widow. Lethal. Covert. Smart.

I think this runs in the family…

My phone rang, well howled, in my pocket. I grabbed it and the name flashing across the screen was not one I’d seen. Miss F. ”Yeah?” Her voice turned my stomach, so sugary sweet. ”Druuuuu! We have you slotted in a tag match!” I blinked. What the fuck was this chicks name? Miss Fuck? Missy Fuckenstein? Maybe even Cunt Lestat Furburger? I didn’t like her. At all. ”A what?” ”Oh, let me speak slower… We. Have. You. In. A. Tag. Match. Against. Vhodka. And. Vincent. Black.” I growled. ”I am not a fucking imbicile F. Who is my partner or is this another handicap match?” She chuckled. ”Graham Clauson.” Again, I blinked a few times. ”Who?” She giggled again, fuck I wanted to rip her throat out! “Ok, see you at the show! Ta!” Click!

”What the flying fuck was that??” I was rather shocked. Standing in the middle of my penthouse apartment, stunned to the core. Who the fuck was Graham Clauson? And why the hell was I facing Vhodka? She was my friend! At least, I thought she was. Maybe I was wrong? Roscoe and Diesel walked in, ”Hey Cill, so, we have a few things to settle out. The blood drive for St. Judes is coming up, I’m sure you’re booked for this weeked,” Diesel cut in. “Who do you want walking with you? Me or Roscoe?”

I turned, still rather bewildered. ”Uhh… Doesn’t matter who. Either. Or. Both.” The concern poured over their faces as they walked to me. ”Cilla?” Roscoe, so caring, so concerned. ”Yo, Cill…” Diesel, ever the annoyance. ”I’m fine.. I think.” ”What happened?” ”My match…” Diesel smacked me. I snarled, grabbing his hand. ”If you ever touch me like that again… You will pull back a bloody stump.” He growled. I growled. Roscoe stepped between us. “Ok you two… back off. Neutral space.” I scoffed, shoving my brother as I walked to the kitchen. “My match is a tag match. Against Vhodka.”

”Wodka? Mama love her!” Oh joy… Mama was here now. ”I know Mama, trust me.” She laughed, picking up Reaper as she walked past me. He purred, loudly, that whistle in his purr was absolutely adorable and he only did it for me and for Mama. ”Who you with?” Fixing myself a cup of tea, I turned. ”Graham Clauson.” The trio, in perfect unison, “Who?” Made me laugh. “I have no idea, Diesel, hit the ‘net. Find what you can about him, then come directly to me.” He grumbled but nodded and was off. Mama, rubbing Reaper’s huge paws, leaned against the countertop next to me. ”Kachanie, you take seriously, yes? Tag match, you need trust.” I scoffed once more. ”Mama, I don’t trust anyone, you know that. Hell, I barely trust…” Her brow arched. ”Barely trust?” I backed off. “Nothing, Mama.” Reaper, still whistle purring away, was more content than I had seen him in a while.

”Dru, we need to get real here.” I looked at Roscoe as he spoke. ”Your career needs to be first, I get it, but what about the business? Cela is doing great with DruBrew, but DruKrew Towers is brand new. You need to be focusing on it, too.” I sipped my tea. ”Ros, I am focused. My ring gear has been redesigned to represent Fight as well as DruKrew Towers. I filmed five commercials for the Towers and three new ones for DruBrew last week. Promotional goodie bags have been made and are going to be passed out at Venom #5.” He nodded. ”And what about the Blood Drive?” I smiled. “Ros, it’s under control. The Blood Drive will be held outside of Fight Tower next week. Banners. Flyers. Whole deal. Ok? I will be there, front and center, as will some of the other fighters. “Meet and greet” kind of thing.”

Roscoe never doubted me. What was going on? Before I could say anything, my door opened yet again and in strode my father. … That STILL felt weird. He hung his fedora on the hatrack I had by the door. It’s a dragon and wolf design, fitting my home. My decor. My love of Gothic. Love of darkness. Who I was. ”Natalia, Pip.” He kissed Mama and ruffled my hair. I scowled. “Roscoe.” He nodded to him, and Ros returned the nod. Roscoe didn’t quite trust Henry yet, and I think the feeling was mutual. Hel, this whole past month has been confusing for me. And the resulting migraine had been fairly crippling. Thank Gods I grew my own herb. I loathed pain medicine. The nurses in the Fight infirmary found this out the hard way.

Also, I hated the nickname Henry had for me. But I already corrected him every time he tried to call me “Ana” or “Anastasia”. My name was “Druscilla”. I don’t think I was ever “Anastasia”. Not really. I know he wanted me to be the little baby I was, but frankly that little one had been beaten damn near to death, this was who he was stuck with now. And I was fire and brimstone personified.

”Henry, do you have to call me that?” I groaned, leaving the kitchen of my home and heading to the den. My morning had begun weirder than expected, and while Mama followed me closely with Reaper in her arms, Hel had turned traitor and climbed up Henry’s brown slacks to curl around his shoulders. Perfect. Both cats turned on me. I feed them and this is how they repay me? Choosing sides?

”Kachanie!” Mama scolded me as Henry erupted in his raucous laugh. Admittedly, it could be infectious but today, I was in no mood. ”Oh come on Pip, relax!” I rolled my eyes. He was more of a child than an adult. Since when have I become an adult here? Ever since Henry showed up, Mama had changed. She was more like a teenager again, a lovesick teenager. They both were insufferable when together. “Mama, I don’t have to like every nickname.” I grumbled. She swatted my leg, only for me to have Reaper swat my head from his perch on Mama’s chest. I scowled. I arched my brow, looking at them, snuggling on my couch. I wanted to vomit. Not a lot. Just a little. I’m glad she was happy, she deserved it, but didn’t I deserve it too? I think Roscoe read my mind, when he came to sit next to me, handing me my phone. ”Cill, you’re sure you have everything nailed down? Xavier knows? The new guys know? … What about Valkyrie?” I sipped my tea and sighed softly. ”I promise, they all know. As for Robs, she knows but I don’t know if she’ll have time. Remember, she’s working in two different arena’s now. Fight and Project Honor. She’s busy as fuck.”

He nodded, kissing my forehead before he left. ”Ok Boss, I have work to do, Memphis is in the lobby if you need to go anywhere.” ”I can drive myself Ros…” He balked for a moment, and before he could say anything, Henry chimed in. ”He’s right Pip. Take Memphis if you need to go anywhere. Safety. For your old man’s peace of mind?” Oh fucksake. ”Fuck Henry, what is this? Slipping a damned M1917 in my bag “just in case” already? Been in my life for two weeks and already you feel this paternal pull?” I didn’t mean to snap, I really did not. Mama could see the shame in my face before I even spoke again. ”I. I’m sorry Henry.”

He slid over on the couch, next to me and pulled my chin up with a finger. ”Dru, don’t ever apologize. You owe me nothing. Natalia told me what happened to you and Vitali… Diesel,” he caught himself. ”I should be apologizing to you, Every single day. For leaving you, Diesel and Natalia.” His eyes, the soft blue-ish hazel, welled up. ”That is my fault. What happened to you, is my fault.” His hand was large, but it cupped my cheek gently. I could feel the years in his palm. The strain. The worry. The danger. It was all there, in his hand. But what he held in his eyes melted away when he looked at me. It made me weepy. I was starting to not want the results of that paternity test…

”Why did you leave?” I sniffled, softly, fighting the urge to cry. Mama, still petting Reaper, sat there, silent as the grave, letting the two of us work through our distrust. He sighed. “Fortune and glory, kid, fortune and glory.” I stammered, and was cut off, gently. ”They promised so many things for my help, but what I got was heartache. I lost Natalia. I lost you. I lost.. Diesel. I fought wars I didn’t belong in. I took what was needed and fought like hell to return it to the rightful owners. Diamonds. Gold. A young man’s fancy. When they were finished with me, they dumped me back at Marshall College. Only contacting me when they needed something. I looked for you for years. I looked for Natalia for years. I never gave up, Pip, never.” A tear slid from his eye and dropped onto the light brown fabric of his slacks.

”When my little birds finally came back with news, I jumped. Packed my bag and here I am.” He smiled, softly as another tear rolled from his eyes. Here I was. Weepy. Sitting next to the man who says he fathered me. The man who walked away. But the man who says he never stopped searching, and the same man who now sits in my home. What do I do?? ”Kachanie, we do what we think best. We love you. Mama and Papa. We here. We no go anywhere.” He smiled, the scar on his chin, the scruff on his face. He was a handsome man, and he did truly love Mama.

I knew I needed to let my guard down, but every time I did, I was hurt.

This was going to be a long… long day.


Later that week…

”Come, Roscoe… we have a flight to catch.” I grabbed a scarf off my hatrack and flung it around my neck, purely for dramatic effect as I flounced out of my apartment leaving Henry and Mama on the couch. With Roscoe on my heels, we entered the elevator, I pressed the button of the lobby. ”Sooo what are we doing?” I smiled, slipping those large black sunglasses on. ”Well, Boris, we have a need for information, and the answers, my darling, are in Columbus..”

Our flight was quick. Once we settled in at the hotel, I let Roscoe nap. I left a note for him, if he woke up and I was gone. I needed to do something. I took a cab to the Holy Cross Church and after I had paid the driver, I walked inside. The Gothic Revival decor was amazing! But it was a church, I needed to remember that. I found there were several people in the pews, some praying, some reading. Here I was, decked in skin tight black jeans, my knee high boots, a FIGHT! Tanktop and my Wolves cut, and a blowup sex doll with the name “Graham” taped to its forehead. God must have been laughing his ethereal ass off. Hel, inside, I was laughing my ass off.

A priest found me, or rather, us. Or was he a father? Or a pastor? What the fuck was the difference? He smiled, greeting me. But I, ever the smartass, knelt in front of him. ”Forgive me Father, for I am Sin.” He stammered, then tried to help me and the blowup Graham, stand up. ”Miss. Miss.. I’m Father Karras, We are a Christian church… we don’t take…” ”Father, it’s been… too damned long since my last confession, will you please absolve me?” He stuttered again, trying harder to pull me off the floor. The plastic inflatable Graham leered at him. Almost wantingly. It began to creep me out, slightly. But I remained at his feet, pulling his jacket softly, begging him. ”Please Father… I need absolution!” He closed his eyes, gathered himself and sighed. ”… Yes… My child?”

Yay! He was going to play!

”Father… I am Sin. I must face my dear friend and her husband in the ring this weekend…” He was obviously confused. “This isn’t war, Father, I love her, I do, she’s one of my best friends, but a booking is a booking. I’ve fought her before. Once, Father, and she was a force. But she told me my vagina smelt of Funyuns, Father. FUNYUNS!” I wept. ”Do you know what that does to a girl? I swear Father, my vagina does not smell of Funyuns, I’m a Good Girl I am. I keep a clean and fresh coochiemeowmeow.” I looked up at him, by now people had begun to circle us, filming my dramatics with their cell phones. I wiggled the blowup Graham, for emphasis’s sake. I smiled. When they, including the Father, saw my fangs, they gasped collectively. Fear. I loved it.

Was I crazy? Was I possessed? Was I filled with “the spirit”? Or was I playing a dangerous game?

”I lost that day, Father. I can’t lose again! I’ve worked so hard, Father, I’m dedicated! Father…. If I break her husband’s bones, is that a mortal sin…” I looked up, his face was disgusted, to say the least. “M…m.. My Child… The Lord does not wish us to fight… Can you not settle things peacefully with your friend?” I laughed but it turned to a wail as I flung myself at his feet again, nudging the inflato-Graham to waggle a plastic finger at Father Karras. ”Father! Peace is NOT an option! She insulted MY Gates to Heaven! Isn’t that a sin?? No. No peace. Her husband will suffer. She will suffer. All of Fight will bear witness to Druscilla White taking down Vincent and Vhodka Black Saturday night at 8pm on the Fight! Network!” I looked up, the cameras still rolling, I hauled the inflato-Graham onto my back, for effect, “I will carry the weight of Graham Clauson. I will overcome this, Father. Graham, I don’t trust him, I don’t like him, but for one night, for one common goal, we will stand in that ring together and beat the GOD out of them. Father, forgive me, for I am Sin, but I will run headlong over Vhodka Saturday night. I will bend her to the point she almost breaks. I will twist her until she BEGS not God, but ME for Mercy. Graham can handle Vincent. Graham can have him. But Vhodka, she is mine. This isn’t a grudge match, really it’s not. We’re friends. Close friends, but this is business. I know she’s powerful. I know she’s quick. She’s deadly. But at the end of the day, I know I can outsmart her. Out move her. I’m far more lethal. My body count is countless. What’s hers? The meth head in her trailer park?” He was shocked. Absolutely flabbergasted at the creature at his feet. I had no shame. I laughed as he stammered for words. I flung the plastic Graham floaty to the ground, unceremoniously of course. ”Father, Will you come to New York and speak Last Rites for Vhodka and Vincent Black?” I grinned.

”…. SINNER!”

Finally he spoke!

I love when they play back!

”DEMON! I cast thee from our Heavenly House… BACK CREATURE OF DARKNESS!!” He pulled his cross and sprayed Holy water on me, I laughed again, standing, wiping it from my face. ”Oh Father… You know not what you do… Neither did Vhodka… Neither does Vincent.” I smirked. ”They taunted me, Father. They insulted me. They called me trash. The Voodoo Queen! Trash!? They fucked up, Father… Just like so many before them. I’ve taken down Kings. I’ve unseated Queens. I beat powerhouses in this game! I have beat weaklings who thought they had the power to overtake me! I have run the gamut and won. Tommy Kain. Adi Gold. Michelle Moore. Necra Kane. Eoin O’Rourke. Kevin Jameson. Amari Kent. Serotonin. I BEAT THEM ALL! Yes, Father, I have fallen, but I stand back up!” I laughed, looking directly in the priest’s eyes. ”I always stand back up, Father. Nothing keeps the Voodoo Queen of the Bayou down! And you’ll see, Saturday night, Father Karras, I Always Deliver! Know what? Forget it, Father! I don’t need absolution. I don’t need God to forgive me nor do I need you to forgive me. I’m a Heretic. Fuck absolution. I’m bathed in Sin and I say let the good times roll! “ I cackled, blowing a kiss to the slew of camera’s around me as I turned on my boot heel and walked out of the church. I looked back briefly, ”Also, I know you’ll see this Vhodka, my darling, so here’s a joke for you. What did one Dorito Farmer say to the other Dorito Farmer? …. Cool Ranch.” I cackled! ”Hey girl, let’s be honest, I love you, but once we hit that ring, your ass is mine. But after? Let’s do dinner after the show? My treat? Bella’s? It’s not personal, love, it’s just business.” I grabbed my lighter from my pocket and ran the zippo down my leg. It lit. I grinned at the crowd and befuddled the priest evermore. “Never doubt the Voodoo Queen.” I threw the lighter down at the inflato-Graham and it lit ablaze immediately. Burning his effigy in this church was a warning to him. I didn’t trust him. I didn’t like him. He insulted me, but I will leave him screaming as he burns. I left the Priest’s jaw on the floor, and the rest of his flock stunned. Had that really just happened? Had the Prophet made her mark in Columbus?

Did I just try to burn down a CHURCH?!

Bet your fucking ass I DID! And I did it with style!

A yellow cab picked me up as the Priest tried to put out the fire I had physically and verbally left behind. Good luck, Father Karras, you’ll never be able to Exorcise that demon.

Diesel had gathered the information he was able and given it to me before we left. Once I’d returned from the church… from “confession”, Roscoe and I fell into character. Boris and Natasha. We tracked Graham throughout the evening but when he and an unknown male, who we assumed was either his boyfriend or husband, walked into a restaurant, we couldn’t help but laugh. The [‘plas]… What fuckery was this? Was Colubus too broke to afford a real name for an eatery? Did they think they were cool? Fucksake, they were bougie as fuck here. My inner monologue was hilarious at times.

We stood at the window first, watching as they were seated. Seemed like a decent enough place, it wouldn’t be too hard to watch him. I pressed my face against the glass, smearing lip and nose prints all over the place. Roscoe snickered. The patrons directly in front of me gasped and moved, hurriedly, to get away from the crazy person licking the window. Leering at the pretty lady.

What? Wasn’t I allowed a little crazy? I may be the President of the Wolves, but just at this moment, I was a loony in leather, stalking someone. Gently stalking, mind you. Not violent stalking. Gently stalking. There is a difference folks.

”Boss,… Maybe you shouldn’t…” I made more faces against the window, crude sounds like slurping and panting. Go big, or go home, right? I had already lost my shit in a church, I really couldn’t do much worse here. I slurped the window, leaving spit trails all over the place. I kissed the glass, winking to a rather attractive young lady inside. But as my fun began to grow, a copper showed up. Boo. Boner killer. I grabbed Roscoe and we ducked inside, fast.

My large, black floppy hat, which had gone with me to the Keys when I spent a few days with Tara Fenix, hid my face fairly well. I still had my thick black granny glasses on. We stepped up to the host, he told us there’d be a wait. ”Do you know who I am?” He shook his head. Roscoe placed a FIGHT! Flyer down in front of him. I smiled. “OH!” He exclaimed! ”You’re the Prophet! I Love watching Fight!!” I chuckled, softly. ”You’re one of our favorites!” I patted his hand, softly. ”You have kids… Ronny?” Love name tags. So classy. He nodded. ”Want them to go to college?” Again, he nodded. “Well, I can arrange that.” He blinked. ”Get us a table behind that bulky gent and his compatriot, and I will make sure your kids are set. Do you want an Ivy league or state school for them?” I grinned. He hurriedly grabbed two menus, and ushered us inside. Three tables back from Graham and his significant other was perfect. I slid my card into his pocket. ”Call me, I’ll get them taken care of.” I patted his hand softly.

We ordered drinks and stayed there. Leering at the duo over our menus. Like the stereo-typical spies of the 40’s and 50’s. James Bond, eat your heart out. Roscoe sipped his craft beer, while I nursed a tumbler of whiskey.

Graham and his gentleman friend talked for hours, dined and smiled. It was cute. But this was business. I needed the details. The deets. On him. Was he worthy? Was he smart? Or was he just an old man who needed to be put to pasture?

Little did I know… Mama and Henry had been inside this whole time. Several tables back. Loving one another. Feeding one another. Laughing together. Drinking together. This had been their profession when they were younger, what should I have expected? I never saw them, but by the Gods, they saw me. They blended in perfectly. No one suspected them of spying on diners, not even me. I couldn’t quite see what Graham had ordered for dinner, but I did manage to see he had devoured the whole thing, whatever it was. Our waiter returned, ready to take our order.

Roscoe went for the herb crusted ribeye filet, whereas I chose the oven roasted half chicken. Bougie is as bougie does. I kept my menu. I still needed it to study my possibly ill-fated partner. I leered over the top. The whole time. Very inconspicuous. He’d never see me. Like no one saw Mama and Henry. I was the best spy, possibly ever. In my mind.

In reality, I had been made the second I hit the window.

As dinner waned, and the great Numbskull stood from his table, he began to escort his male friend out.

But wait!

There’s more!

They walked by our table, I heard the soft humming of what I could only make out to be “Red Wine” by UB40. Jesus he was old. By the time I could look up from the menu shroud, it hit me. The chilled sensation of liquid pouring down my hat and face and into my lap. I snarled. Furious, but fighting to maintain composure. ”Stalk us again and I’ll call the cops. Better wine than a record, you crazy bitch.” His voice sent me reeling. I wanted to rip his arms from their sockets and beat him with him. His friend was embarrassed and shocked, poor gent. I couldn’t hear their verbal exchange over the thudding in my ears. I was livid. ”You’re going to pay for that, Clauson!” My voice was calm, but within held the rage of a thousand suns. “Saturday night, you’ll pay…”

They exited the [‘plas] with haste, and as the host and a few waitresses came to my aid, I forced myself to cool. Roscoe was on his feet, growling softly, trying to decide to go after Graham and beat some sense into him, or stay with his President. He chose the latter. Obviously. But while the commotion had the restaurants in a tizzy, Mama and Henry had paid their bill and slipped out, silently, behind Graham and his friend.

They heard the exchange. Assuming their daughter had been snooping through their refuse. Mama smirked. ”Why not? How long had she been watching us? For all we know, she’s been eating from our trash cans the last few nights.” His partner replied, which made Henry fight down a laugh. ”She’s a human being, not a racoon.” But it was the final reply that made Mama consider Graham a decent man. ”That eyeliner is a choice, Ken.”

Henry quicked their pace, striking up a conversation with Mama. ”Tell me love, should we get married? Here? Tonight?” She gasped softly, her eyes flickering from Graham and his cohort back to Henry. She knew this would blow their cover, but who the fuck cared? Dru would have to deal with the information they had previously gathered. “Yes! Yes Papa, yes!” Henry smiled and spoke in a firm voice; ”Good, let’s go grab our Racoon and tell her the good news.” Yes. That was strictly for Graham and his friend Ken to hear. Mama laughed and slid her arm through Henry’s and leaned against him. ”Yes, Kachanie need to know. But Kachanie not janot, Kachanie wrestler. Fierce wrestler.”

Returning home, still quite angry at Clauson from ruining my black floppy hat with his cheap ass wine, I was in my office. Finishing up some VIP club stuff for FIGHT! Evidently, I had a fan club? When did this happen? Letters inundated me from people all over the country. Photos of their children decked in my ring gear, or pictures of them at my matches. Fans from Fade2Black, from Outlaw Pro. It was crazy! Though, it did make me feel better about what I had been working so hard for. The TV behind me droned on about the new Kia Soul and how nifty it was. The commercials were so tedious. I had been watching a documentary about Ted Bundy… but now daytime television has kicked in. Yay. Maury Springer. Or was it Jerry Povich? Who knew, anymore. I didn’t watch this trash.

The theme music plays and I turn in my chair, mid signature to see what was going on. Diesel looked up and scoffed. “Oh lovely, Which slut is being proved a liar today?”

”Maury: Fans at home and in attendance…. you do not want to miss what we have here next. You thought BLOOD MONEY for FIGHT NYC was bad, just wait til you see what we have here. Does she love him, or does she not? Has she cheated or has she been faithful? Has she slept with her fathers biggest enemy or is she still daddy’s girl? Or is she finally ready to move onto a new chapter in her life? Allison Riggs Preston and J Mont himself will be here to reveal the TRUTH about what has really been going on….. i also have here a QUOTE from Mr J Mont himself…..”I want to thank you ahead of time Maury for giving us this opportunity to come on LIVE TV to get the TRUTH out there……if it comes back that she doesn’t want or love me, i will walk off the stage like a man and move on, but if it comes back that she wants me and loves me, i’m leaving with her.” That’s a strong statement by J Mont… so do not change this channel. Things are about to get interesting here.”

”Hey.. is that… from FIGHT!… that Dane dude you defend?” I nodded, idly switching the TV off. ”Yeah. It is. But you know those shows are rigged right?” He laughed. ”Rigged or Riggsed?” I rolled my eyes. ”Fucksake Diesel, Dane is a good man. I don’t see Allison fucking that Mont monkey. But if she is, her loss. Dane could find better.” He narrowed his eyes on me. ”Like… you?” I laughed! ”Fuck no! He’s a friend. Nothing more.” ”MHmm I bet. Friends get friendlier, Dru.” ”Jesus Christ D, there’s rumors he’s banging Sahara, ok? I’m not even on his radar. I’m the new kid in the arena.” Diesel bristled a little and went back to stuffing envelopes. I scowled. ”Feeding the rumors just puts more gasoline in Joe’s hands. Drop it. I will always be Team Dane/Allie. Ok?” He nodded, not saying a word. He knew he’d pissed me off a bit.

I finished signing promotional photos and Diesel stuffed them into their correlating envelopes. I sighed, leaning back in my chair as my brother licked the last one and sealed it. ”Finally. Done.” He grumbled. ”You said you wanted to help, D.” I laughed. He flipped me off. “Oh that’s not nice.” I teased. ”I have paper cuts on my tongue, Druscilla!” I cackled, and belted out;

”It’s like I’m paranoid lookin’ over my back
It’s like a whirlwind inside of my head
It’s like I can’t stop what I’m hearing within
It’s like the face inside is right beneath my skin!!!!”

He rolled his eyes. ”Linkin Park? Really?” I smiled, thwapping him with a stack of empty envelopes. ”Hush D, you know damn good and well Cela will make sure your tongue feels better,” Yeah, I grossed myself out with that one, but it was true. Cela loved that man more than anything else, and I knew for a fact the feeling was mutual. ”Speaking of, where is she?” Diesel smacked my hand and leaned over me to grab a beer from my mini fridge. “She’s hanging with Mama and Henry. They wanted to take the twins to the zoo.” I blinked. ”Aren’t they a wee bit young for that?” ”Nah, they love seeing the animals.” I nodded.

When my phone rang, I grumbled a bit until I saw the name. Zion. I do love when my girl calls, especially when I need a break from the monotony of work. ”Hey Z.” She paused for a moment before she answered. ”Hey Dru… I’ve got the results of the tests…” I gasped, looking at Diesel, wide-eyed. ”What is it Dru?” His voice echoed my own concern; ”She has the results…” My heart thudded in my chest, Diesel grabbed my hand. We both were worried. But admittedly, we both needed to know. ”Come on Dru, are we doing Jerry Springer or not?” I sucked in a deep breath, I could hear Zion growing impatient on the line. So I pushed “Speaker” and set the phone back in the cradle. ”Ok, Z… What’s the verdict?”

Silence was the response. My career. My club. My family. Everything flashed in my head. Even glimpses of my abusive past. My heart raced. Diesel’s forehead glistened with beads of sweat from his own nerves.

Amazing. He survives two tours only to be brought to his knees by some blood tests. That’s not to say I hadn’t survived my own Hel to be put on the rack here. I had. And I was. I have a match tomorrow night. My head needed to be in the game. But…

The wait was torture. She took a deep breath, just as I had, and as she began to speak, my mind strayed. “The results are….”

And it all began to…