14. Ronan

Another knock-out show. Orcs aren't one for emoting, but hell's bells. These chicks are on fire!

There's no more hesitation. Their moves are totally in sync. They jump off the ropes, and Camie soars left while Chey soars right. Both nail their foes on the mat like meteors slam into Earth.

It's wild to watch. I found myself cheering there for a second. I stop that right quick. This is the result when wrestlers do what's in their hearts. The battles might be fake, but the passion isn't. And in the ring with these two, it shows.

During the half-time show, I spy Dee Dee in the stands. Geez, does that slobbering chick ever take a night off? I quickly slip behind the backstage gate. "Ben, you're manning this gate, right?"

"Yes, sir. No one without a VIP pass will get past me."

"Great, and please have that include that swampster over there. The one with the wild hairdo. She's a dedicated fan but a complete touchy-feely virus. You get me?"

Ben smirks. "Totally, man. If she asks, I'll say you're away. Far, far away."

We laugh, and I slap him on his lizard shoulder.

If the place had been a big venue like The Faun, I could have easily been invisible in the massive crowd. But in this small arena, I stick out like any muscular orc. And Dee Dee's love radar is full-on.

The last thing I need is her pawing at me like she did in my last show. I'm still shedding algae from that love bomb when she jumped onto my back in blind move, and we landed on the floor in an embrace. From my end, revolting. From hers, riveting, I'm sure.

I mumble. "The only loving embrace I want is with Chey. But that's between me and the ropes in the ring. I'm not admitting that to anyone, living or dead."

All the way back to the locker rooms, I hear constant cheering and bleacher boot pounding. The sound is so thunderous that I wonder if the whole place will come tumbling down. With each move that incites the thunder, I know exactly where Camie and Chey are in their skit. The demon duo is bringing the house down and the money flowing into this joint.

Happy vendor, happy manager. Happy manager, happy trainer. Happy fighters, all around. I swear, I can smell the Benjamins.

I bang through the doors and grab a bottle of water from the bar. I smile at myself in the back wall mirror and adjust my long locks.

"Looking good, Ro, as usual." I smirk and flop into the sectional.

Between gulps of water and the cheering eruptions that continue to rocket through the place, my thoughts — however much I try to stop them — wander back to Chey.

I want to walk up and kiss her, but I can't. Mixing business with pleasure has never been a problem for me, but for some reason, it is today. Maybe I have a thing for redheads. Who knows? But I could get lost in her eyes. And her strawberry locks.

I get up and grab a couple of raw meat platters from the buffet table. Then I shove the red meat goodness down my gullet, and end the culinary assault with a big, long burp, all trying to distract myself from thoughts of Cheyanne.

I head back out and hit ringside through another entrance, diagonally across Dee Dee's seat. Safety in distance, I figure.

I look up, and the girls are still going strong. The grunts and moans from their fighting foes are more comical than they should be. I think Chey and Camie are giving better than they're getting. Good for them!

I watch their menacing flips, slaps, and half-Nelsons with pride. It's a mix of trainer and manager pride. And with Chey, maybe something more.

Someone taps on my right shoulder. I turn around, and it's Chad McAllister from the incredibly popular Ten Bells wrestling podcast. I'd recognize the guy anywhere, what with his red, white, and blue checkered leisure suit and overly gelled hair. The man looks like he fell off a 1970s time machine.

"Ronan! So glad I caught you. Can I have a minute of your time?" Chad flashes his big teeth. The gleam from his capped teeth is so bright I sense snow blindness coming on.

"Sure, Chad, but be quick. The girls are almost done."

"Right you are. Okay, so I was hoping for an exclusive Q and A with both of your lovely ladies after the show. Your thoughts?"

Chad looks up at the wrestlers and gets hit with a sweat spray. I try not to laugh and casually hand him a towel from the corner supply.

"Uh, well, Chad, the girls would be thrilled at your offer, but you know, they are P.R. scheduled up to the roof. How ‘bout you leave it with me, and maybe we can pencil you in later in the week?"

I figure that'll get him off my back.

I'm jonesing for the limelight for the girls, but know it's too risky to even try. Unless…maybe change Chey's name? Make it, oh, I don't know, Chey's character's name. Kelly Forte. Is it worth the risk?

I engage in a bit more small talk and media niceties with Chad before sending him on his way. Straddling the line — to promote Disastra to the world, yet not get Chey in Archimedes contract fire — is a tough one.

I don't have long to ponder before the final bell rings and the demon duo are declared the winners. The place erupts — confetti, balloons, even a cannon hurling out winner T-shirts to the crowd. I get buffeted back from Chey's corner and have to fight my way back in. I'm laughing more than shoving.

Can the winning last? Will our luck hold out? And when will the cat jump out of the bag and Chey end up in a world of hurt with Raucous?

My thoughts dampen down the joy, but I don't let Chey and Camie sense my doubts. The time to celebrate is tonight. The time to strategize is tomorrow. The worries can wait.

I grab hold of the ropes, jump in, and hurl the girls' arms all the way up. Champions. What a feeling.

* * *

By the next morning, the celebration has petered out, and the three of us are back in the gym with our training faces on. The old wrestler saying, You're as good as your last win, isn't lost on any of us.

I catch the girls yawning. "Whoa! What's that I see? None of that in here or it"s twenty laps around the ring for the pair of you."

Camie laughs, and Chey fake salutes.

"It was a late one last night, remember?" Chey says between another flip-top head yawn.

"Hey, if I remember correctly, it was you two who wanted to do the town. Screaming your heads off in the open-top limo all the way through Briarwood. Your caterwauling woke up the dead in the cemetery."

The girls laugh. Camie pipes up. "Yeah, we kind of let loose last night. I don't know. It's been all the stress, right? Of making this work. Somehow, last night, we both knew we had our careers down cold, and we finally relaxed."

I take a seat on a nearby bench while the girls do their stretching routine.

"Hey, I get that. And it's not like I tried to stop you two. I felt the same. Like the three of us have weathered a storm, and now there is only bright sunshine ahead."

"Wow. Look at the waxing lyrical orc? Is that even possible with your DNA?" Chey chides.

I snap a towel and Chey yelps. I snicker.

"Listen, serious talk now. While you two were rocking the ring last night, Chad McAllister sidled up to me."

The girls stop in their tracks. "The Chad McAllister?" they chorus.

I look up and smirk. "Yeah, the Chad. Geez, you'd think he was the Second Coming."

"What did he want?" Camie runs over and plunks down on the bench. Chey follows suit.

"Well, he wants an exclusive. A Q and A session with the wrestling world's new It girl wrestlers. That's what he wants."

Camie squeals. Chey sits silent.

"Settle, petal. Remember? Chey is under contract with Raucous. This media invite is a no-go."

Camie deflates like a punctured balloon. "What? No sneaky workaround? C'mon, Ronan. This is the best media hype going on in Briarwood. We can't turn Chad's invite down."

I turn to Camie. "In normal circumstances, I would have had you girls do the Q and A right there in the ring last night. But this isn't normal. Chey could be sued into bankruptcy if it got out. She's moonlighting as another brand."

"Okay, fine. Let's have Chey drop her contract. Pay an early exit fine or something."

"Uh, guys, I'm right here beside you."

Camie and I turn and shrug our shoulders.

"Sorry, Chey. You have a buy-out clause. They can't refuse you that. But it would come with a lot of media hitjobs from Raucous. You can be certain of that," I warn.

I know as soon as the words leave my mouth Chey won't go for that. Like with her issues with Archimedes and her loyalty to her mom, I'm talking to a very diminutive brick wall. Who knew humans could be so tough?

All Camie and I get is a silent head shake. We both know Chey refuses to even discuss that option.

"Okay. How ‘bout I do the interview on my own?"

I get up and slam my fists into the ring mats. I'm pissed. Not at the girls. At Raucous for taking Chey prisoner like this.

I turn around and face the girls. "It's a no-can-do, Camie. You know for a fact that Chad won't get through that interview without peppering you with a thousand questions about Chey. Where is she? Why isn't she here? What's her background story on Disastra? Does she have a new publicity team? A new website? Blah, blah, blah. It would be a complete mess."

Camie sighs. "More so if I hesitate to answer or outright lie. What a messy web we weave…"

"…When we wrestle and deceive."

Chey ends that talk. Her on-the-spot poem doesn't make any of us laugh.