The Fates vengeful eyes are fixed…. On Me..

By: Druscilla White

Date: 9th Sep 2021

I had to keep going. I had to keep pushing.

Yes. Asher and I lost.

Yes. I was pissed.

Between being heckled by Mama and now being annoyed by Henry; I needed an escape. He suddenly took great interest in my career. Why? Did he magically realize I wasn’t playing? That I was beyond serious and determined to be a wrestler, no matter the cost to my body? Whatever the reason, he was driving me crazy. Always barking orders. Pushing me to run farther, train harder, hell, he even dropped a monster DDT on me…

I still had the bruises from Tag Wars. Hell, my head still ached from being pummeled by Dickie. Did that matter to Henry? Nope. The moment I woke up in medical, Henry was planning his attack. Mama, however, was just as angry as I was at Asher. I worried she might run off and kill him… I signed the AMA, yet again, and spent a day or two at home… The ensuing dream was beyond fucked up. The idea of Dru the pirate? Classic, since I am a badass biker chick; but I am also Dru the wrestler. And that was where my focus needed to stay.

Thanks to Henry, it would.

”Fortune and Glory, kid, fortune and glory.” His mantra. Something I was growing to hate. I Knew why he was reminding me, Mama had told him the story of Danny. How it hurt me. How losing my brother changed my whole world; and Henry felt guilty. He felt if he had not chosen duty over protecting his family, I would not have felt that wrecking ball. But face it, The Fates were bitches and I’d have been slammed regardless. I was sure.

”Look, you need to back the fuck off…” I huffed, my face beet red and glistening in sweat. I had spent the last three hours in the ring, cycling between battling Diesel and Roscoe. Working on my response times; ensuring what happened at Tag Wars didn’t repeat itself. Henry scowled. ”Pip… Don’t swear.” I growled. ”You want to win? We do this until I say stop. Now, back in.” He nodded to Memphis, who climbed through the ropes. I groaned. My hair had been tied back under a Wolves of Odinn scarf; but it too was soaked with sweat.

Memphis rushed me, I spun on my heel and dropped an elbow to his back. Henry walked the outside of the ring, cracked his whip, breaking my focus. Memphis swept my feet from under me. I snarled. We grappled, heaving one another into the mat or the turnbuckle. Henry stalked the outside of the ring, watching everything. Groans and growls echoed through the gym, but once Henry cracked that damned whip again, it was Memphis who flinched. I saw my moment and set him up. He tried to break my hold but before Memphis could tapout down he went.

VooDoo Queen!

Henry chuckled, through the side of his mouth and as Memphis passed out from the combination sleeper hold, I snarled. I flung my packmate to the mat and crawled from between the ropes. ”We done now? Cuz, I am.” Henry tried to call me back, but was met with the slamming of the heavy door. He shook his head.

I, however, leaned against the tiles of the bathroom wall and sighed. Hours. Hours I had been working out. Training. Fuck that, he was a slave driver with that damned whip. Could I actually do this? He was beating the shit out of me, forcing me to train longer and harder than ever before. What was this shit, a perfectionist’s dream? Or an athlete’s nightmare? I could hardly feel my back anymore, it had become numb with pain. The mats’ unforgiving nature had taken a toll today.

Hell, this whole week has taken a toll on me. I had heard what the Moore’s had gone through, and I was wrecked. I may dislike Brandon and Michelle, but I would never wish this type of torture on them, or anyone. I wept for them, I bid the Goddess care for their son. The loss at Tag Wars had hit me hard, harder than I had figured it would. Mainly because there were so many opportunities lost because of Asher’s insecurities. I wanted the murder him, but at the same time, I felt for the guy. He was an asshole, a dirty rotten cunt, but he was also scared. Poor puppy. He needed to stay on the porch.

Henry’s dictatorship of my training regimen was growing thin; and soon a revolt would occur. A bloody revolt that may leave Mama a widow and my building decorated in skulls.

But what seemed to hurt the most, for me, was getting wind that someone from my not so distant past had begun to emerge from the shadows. Qiyanna. I had heard, through little birdies, that she was coming back and had been mourning her losses. Something about her own husband and Jax; I assumed the worst. I held my breath that Jax either fell by his own hand, or someone from my past reached him and snuffed out his light. Because of me.

The squeak of the knob echoed in the bathroom as I turned on the hot water; soon filling the room with thick steam. I stripped my gear off and slipped inside the shower. I pressed my forehead to the cold tiles. That’s when the dam broke.

I cried, not for myself, not for Jax perse, but for the possibility this was my fault. I knew I came with a dangerous tag but I took a chance once, and… I wept. I beat my fists against the shower wall, angry with the world. Angry with Henry. Angry with Asher. Angry with myself. I had spent the last year keeping all of my emotions tapped down into the bitter darkness of my soul. But they found a small weak spot, and here they were. All over again. Heaving me into a tizzy. So I cried. I let myself feel, for the moment. I let myself be sad. Be angry. Be lonely. I let myself mourn MeowlMir. I let myself just be.

For now.

Because once I finished my shower, I had to go back to who I was. A hardass. A bitch. A personification of beauty, grace and ferocity.

Shaking, I managed to grab my soap and I sighed. Maybe Henry was right… Maybe I needed to work that much harder to prove to Miss fucking F I wasn’t a dumb bitch, and that I was worthy of matches that meant something! Damnit, I was tired of being fucked, and not in a good way.

Hell, this last match she’d booked me in was a true testament to her loathing of me.

Once I’d finished in the shower, no nude scene ya nasties, I stepped out and wrapped a towel around me. But the fucking Fight! Camera crew was right there to annoy me. ”Can you guys.. I don’t know.. NOT?!” They adjusted their lenses, and moved the boom over me. I growled. Henry stormed in the bathroom, all fatherly, and shoved the crew back. “Hey! Hey!” He snagged another towel and held it up behind me, to block their view in the event I had a wardrobe malfunction; circa 2004, of course.

I was wearing my nipple rings, but not guards, Janet! Those suck for everyday wear, and you really only wear them when you want to show them, Janet!

”Henry… It’s fine.” His head spun on a swivel, glaring at me. “I get it, you’re feeling that rush of parental feelings.. But trust me, I’m fine. Remember I’m covered in piercings and tattoos!” He arched a brow at me and grumbled under his breath. “Look, you fight The Enforcer next. Do you have a plan?” I looked over my shoulder, as I dropped my towel. Oops? “A plan? Do I ever?” I laughed! The camera crew set up once again, may as well use that…

”Look. He’s a meathead. A Fucking brick with eyes.” I chuckled, tossing a few curlers in my hair while I went about getting dressed. ”He walks around in a steroid induced haze, thinking he’s hot shit when in reality he’s an Italian meatball looking for his plate of spaghetti.” Henry laughed, softly of course. He kept his towel raised and kept his eyes at the ceiling. I didn’t care. I slid into my black lace bra, adjusted the girls and sighed. ”He’s nothing to me. A blip in the wind.” FIGHT! Tank Top slid over my head and came to rest just above my belly button.

”Look, I’ve fought Dickie Fucking Watson, yeah I lost, but I stood toe to toe with a real champion.” “And you’re forgetting Paul…” ”Of Course I am. Paul was a little bitch who kept pissing in the corner because he was too scared to come center ring and fight like a man. Hell, yeah Asher ran under the ring but even he came out to fight. Paul? Paul jumped someone who was almost completely unconscious at the time. Big man, let me tell ya. He relied solely on his partner to win..” Henry cleared his throat, I was off topic. ”Enforcer is a rhino. I’ve watched him fight before, he’s mechanical. No instinct there, just a bubble gum factory reject.” I slid into my jeans, black denim, and zipped them up with a wiggle.

I touched Henry’s hand for him to lower the towel and put it away. It was safe now. I walked to the mirror and sat down at the table, peering at the camera crew through the reflections. “You have to have a good instinct. Wrestling is 75% instinct, 25% mechanics. I react. You go left, I go low and curl around your right side. You drop for a pin, I roll to the side. You have to be quick on your feet, especially in the ring with me, and let’s be real here. Enforcer hasn’t been quick on anything except shooting up his next ‘roid fix. Or maybe in a buffet. I can see him speeding through a Golden Corral. Zooming from station to station, inhaling the food and ripping the arms off of anyone who tried to get in his way.” I laughed, applying my eye makeup.

Henry leaned against the wall behind me, futzing with the brim of his fedora, listening to me drone on and on about my opponent.

”Look Henry, I’ve watched this dude for a while now, I know his skill set.. If you can call that a skill set. I’ve tried harder and longer than ever before. I can take him. Yeah, he’s bigger. Maybe even stronger. But he’s not smarter. No way is he smarter than me. The Enforcer will fall at my feet. He’ll beg me to stop before I break his precious face or an arm. Hell, I might snap his arm just for the fun of it.” ”You’d be disqualified.” ”And? I’d prove my point, wouldn’t I?” Henry shrugged. I added another touch of eye liner, and looked at Henry through the mirror. I shook my head. ”Doubting me isn’t part of the deal, Henry. Either you’re here, in my life and you believe in me, or take Mama and leave. I don’t have time for wishy-washy.” I popped my lips, the bright red color glimmering in the fluorescent lights. ”I’m here, kid.” He touched my shoulder, half smiling. ”Good.” I looked up at him.

For the first time in my life, I felt like I was ok. Having someone other than Diesel and other than myself, believing in me. It felt good. But, I kept my walls up. If he left and I let him completely in… I may not recover from it. And given my career was finally going someplace, I couldn’t afford the risk. I looked back into the mirror, the crew behind me waiting. I took a deep breath. I turned in my chair, slipping my stiletto boots on.

”Look, Enforcer, you’re done. Welcome to the new world. You are below me. I am the Queen. Bow to me, kiss my ring and I may let you walk away unbroken. Stand and throw hands… I will cut you down. I guess we’ll find out Saturday, Hearst Tower better have their medical on deck for you. You’ll need them.” I blew a kiss to the camera and smiled, flashing those trademarked fangs. ”Let’s dance, Enforcer.”

And… scene!

Once the crew stopped recording and sent the video to the execs at Hearst Tower, they began to record yet again, every single thing I was doing. I rolled my eyes. I snagged a blunt and lit it, inhaling deeply as I walked to my duffel bag. On top sat a black and green envelope. Once I turned it over and spotted the Fight! Logo, I groaned softly. Was I being summoned again?

I opened the envelope and pulled out the card. Inside, the writing was a neat script it read;

”Druscilla, We, here at Fight, have watched you blossom. We’ve watched your determination. We have a favor to ask of you. Look inside yourself.

Who do you want to be?
Where do you want to go?

Brooklyn, perhaps? Or maybe The Bronx? What about a trip down to the Bare Knuckles division? Our favor we ask of you is, choose which division you want, and bid for a chance to own it. We know you can do this, Druscilla.

I know you can do this, Druscilla.

Now, if you choose to say yes, the Blood Money in your account has been added to. A gift from a former partner as an apology. Come see me in my office with your decision. Miss F.”

Reading the letter shot through me like electricity. What in the blue fuck… Miss F gave me a compliment.. Has the world begun to end? This never happened! This woman’s whole existence was based on driving me batshit! Or was it… Maybe she was lying, maybe she was telling the truth; I would never know, honestly. But what had happened? Who was upping my blood money, and why? What was the end game here? I knew Michelle held the Bronx title, and she had just given birth to her son. I had dealt with Poptart a long time ago, and I would rather not dance that dance again. So, let’s just say the Bronx is a no. Bronx… It doesn’t quite roll off the tongue, does it?

The Brooklyn belt… I thought I’d call you Brooklyn…? Eh, not my thing. I’ve been there before, no thanks. Good food, but that’s also a no for a bid.

However, a little thing about me. I love a good fight. I always have. So maybe the Bare Knuckles. I’d have to make a stop at Miss F’s later today when I head to Hearst Tower. But who the hell could be the donor? “A former partner” Was this a Clauson from beyond the grave? Jesus Christ that would be a shit show. Robi maybe…? But we never really partnered up in Fight…

Then it dawned on me.

Asher. Fucking Asher.

If the cunt thought this made us even, or even worse if he thought this might make me like him, he was sorely fucking mistaken. I still wanted to take the pup behind the building and throttle him within an inch of his life.

I stuffed the card in my duffel and slung it over my shoulder. Henry walked up beside me, eyeballing the card. ”Work or pleasure?” I arched my brow. ”Both… I guess?” He nodded. But before he could speak again, my cell phone howled. I dug it out of my bag and checked it. I smiled, a twitterpated smile. Henry leaned in. ”Who’s… Mario with a heart beside his name?”

… This was not the time for Henry “the dad” to be nosey… Especially since I had recently met Mario and I liked him. Like, I liked him. I took another puff off my blunt and exhaled slowly. ”A guy…” Henry chewed the inside of his cheek a bit, thinking I guess. My phone howled again and I tried to skirt away from Henry as I read the message, I smiled. ”Pip, you work this weekend…” I scowled and replied quickly, tucking my phone in my butt pocket before exiting the gym. ”I’m fine Henry. Don’t wait up, I’ll be at my place tonight. Tell Mama.” I yanked my Wolf helmet from my bag and plopped it on. I hastily sat on my bike, turned the engine over and sped off before Henry could “father” me anymore.

”Be careful Pip!” He yelled after me as his car pulled up. Roscoe fell in behind me as I turned down the next street. I was heading to Hearst Tower; I had a meeting with Miss F about a belt. Something I hadn’t really thought about, until now. Did she really think I had what it took to take the Bare Knuckles championship? Had I somehow found another person who believed?

”Siri call F…”

The phone rang a few times, but finally the twat answered. “Hello?” ”Hey Miss F….” ”Druuuuu! DARLING! I’m so glad you call-“ ”Cut the shit, let’s talk. I’m headed to the tower.” ”Alrighty.” ”I got your letter…” Silence. I snarled, whipping in and out of traffic. New York traffic was terrible, but having a bike made things a bit easier. Roscoe sped up, trying to stay as close as he could. This was his job, afterall. ”Look, we don’t like one another. I got that. But this is business.” ”Druscilla, we got off on the wrong foot…”

No shit Sherlock… I growled. “Ya think? Two wrong feet in fucking ugly shoes…” Have I used that before? Most likely. Did I care? Nope. “Druscilla, let’s call a truce..” ”Fuck.” I grumbled, I hated the idea of a truce. I hated the idea of a truce with Miss F even more. That would be like befriending Serotonin. And we all know how the last time she and I were around one another went… “Druscilla, I like you. Really. Your hair is fantastic! Who does your makeup? And those tattoos! Chefs kiss!” I rolled my eyes. This was bullshit. Was I really doing this?

”Give me five minutes. I’ll be there.” Before she could blather any more of her twaddlespeak, I hung up. I was signing my soul away in blood if I did this. To Miss F… That was it! She was fucking Faust!

I knew she was evil… Pure Evil…

I pulled into the parking garage below Hearst Tower and parked my bike in my marked spot. Roscoe beside me. Xavier went all out for us. We all had our own rooms. Our own security, though I chose to use my own Wolves. We had our own parking spots, including my Wolves. He even hired camera crews and personal chefs. How ridiculous. I mean, he cared about us wrestlers, but he was also flagging how badass he was. Le’Andra was a lucky lady.

I stuffed my helmet back in my duffel and walked to the elevator. Once Roscoe had walked in beside me, I punched the button. Top floor. The offices. And the home of Miss Faust herself. ”What are we doing here?” I looked at Roscoe and grinned. ”Making a bid on greatness.” Not fully understanding, he nodded his head. ”Just like your old man, fortune and glory..” He muttered. I rolled my eyes. ”No, Ros. The Prophet is issuing a challenge.” When the doors opened, the staff greeted us. Walking through to Miss F’s office, I barged in. The Fates were beginning to turn, and they were smiling at me.

”I bid…..”

And it all went BLACK!