9. Cheyanne

"Yeah, yeah, Mac, I hear you. Calm down."

I glance over at Ronan. I can tell he's trying to look as if he's not glued to my every word with Mac on the phone. His eyes are on the road ahead, his big manly hands at 10 and 2 on the wheel. We are late for a meeting, and he's doing his best to swerve in and out of traffic.

I concentrate on my call. If I don't, Ronan's crazy driving will make me scream.

"Raucous is doing all it can, Mac. I can't expect miracles with my current draw. You know that."

"No, Chey. That's giving them too much credit. Rebranding is under their purview. They just don't give a shit about you anymore. Listen, I have to run. The office is jumping. And if I don't get a handle on things around here, I will eat someone. Eat. Someone."

I squelch a laugh. Mac can. Demons are a hungry lot at the best of times.

"Okay, don't get hot under the collar, Mac. Nobody needs their brains ripped out." I smirk.

Mac throws a line of curses I can hear over the phone. I hang up. I am thrilled not to be working in Mac's office, I can tell you that.

"Hm… That didn't go so well."

Ronan turns to face me. "How do you mean?"

"Ah, well, I was calling to blow smoke up Mac's boney butt. Feed him a line about how well my event line-up is going. How cemented my new moves are. Blah, blah. He saw right through me and hurled a tirade of insults at Raucous. He went on a rant about them not backing me and my brand like they should."

"Oops."

"You're telling me. I shouldn't have picked up the phone. It's not like Mac was inquiring. And who starts a fight with a demon, anyway? I should be shot at dawn."

Ronan laughs. I laugh, too.

He swings his Hummer SUV into a parking spot. But before we have a chance to get out, my cell rings.

"It's Liam. I'll let it go to voicemail."

Ronan nods.

We head into The Faun Auditorium, one of the biggest venues in Briarwood. It's a 21st-century marvel with all the hi-tech bells and whistles, made of steel and tempered glass. The thing is a sight to behold.

Ronan opens one of the foyer doors, and we are immediately greeted by Marie and her daughter, Camie, owners of the Faun.

"Welcome, you two! Great to have you here." Marie hugs us both. Her arms go around me easily. Her arms barely fit around Ronan's waist. I smirk.

"Mom and I are still in awe of your moves from the other night, Chey. What a night and day difference when you take on your Disastra character." Camie grabs my hand and leads us into the main office. Its wall-to-wall glass windows look out over the massive arena and the elaborate center ring.

"Geez, Camie, this place… Every time I come here, I'm in awe. It's cavernous."

Camie flashes a toothy smile. "Mom has put her all into the place, hasn't she? We love how it's turned out. The event calendar is packed for the next three years straight. Can you imagine that?"

We four sit down in the office to have a business heart-to-heart. Marie has her secretary bring in coffee and bowls of wild grass on a tray. And a dish of chocolate-covered beetles for Ronan. So thoughtful.

Marie gets to brass tacks. "Listen, Chey. Camie and I aren't in the business of empty compliments. I can't fill this place with that. We truly loved what we saw with you the other night in Joseph's gym. You being Disastra, well, it's like you've been born again. I hardly recognized the old Archimedes character once you went into those aggressive moves."

"Mom's right. I mean, look at that janitor's reaction. And that man doesn't look like he has much use for female wrestlers as it goes. All beer, all men, all the time, sort of guy. He literally left his seat after your display. I actually think you shocked him into being a new diehard fan. That's the reaction that'll fill The Faun."

"I don't know what to say." I'm not lying. I truly don't know what to say to Marie. I know she's an industry veteran who has zero time for niceties. I never thought my inner transformation would show so well in the ring.

Marie covers her mouth as she munches on the grass but can't wait long enough to swallow to let the cat out of the bag. "Cheyanne, we want to add you to the roster at The Faun. And we have to pull you into a few more events. Be damned, Marty and his Operation Revenge Tour."

I nearly spew coffee on the lot of us. Even Ronan's beetle crunching comes to a complete stop.

"Add me? Sidetrack Marty? Holy cow!"

Real erudite response there, Chey. Good thing they're not hiring you as their publicist.

Ronan finds his voice. "But what about Camie's alter ego, The Hillbilly Cyborg? Won't that conflict with Disastra? Two anti-heroes on one ticket?"

"No, in fact, Camie and I talked about it, and we think a due concept would be great for our line-up. Get new bookers. Write up some shit-talking between you two. It could be a game changer."

Camie leans forward and grabs a toothpick to get the grass out of her teeth. Total manners from that girl. "That's not all. Mom, tell them what else."

Marie laughs. "Yes, so we did a bit of sleuthing. A few cities over from Briarwood, those venues are making a killing from the killer two-wrestler act. It's the latest thing with the valley's venues, the double attack.

I nod and so does Ronan. I look over at him, and the poor guy is bursting at the seams from excitement. Without thought or discussion, we both chorus a response. "Yes, we're in!"

All four of us howl. It's a four-way marriage made in Briarwood heaven.

I lean back in my chair as Marie goes off to order a bottle of champagne to seal the deal.

"Totally speechless." That's all I can say to Camie.

She grabs my hand. "This will be fantastic, girlfriend. The dastardly duo storm Briarwood and beyond!"

Camie and I hug, and Ronan happily crunches down on the last of the beetles.

I sit back, awash in pure joy… then a feeling overwhelms me. Mom. The last time I worked as a duo, it was with her. Mom and I were so in touch with each other"s thoughts, it was a seamless performance. Can I do the same with another? Will I ever remove the feeling of betrayal that already stains my lips at taking up the Disastra mantle in place of the wrestling hero my mom was so proud of?

Tears well, but I order them to slink back from where they came. Today is not about sorrow. It's about joy. My mom, if she were here, would feel the same. That's what Liam keeps telling me, after all.

I look over at Ronan. He grabs my hand, and I'm touched by the way it warms me. He understands exactly what I'm thinking in a way no one else does, and it's like he's reading my mind. He knows this isn't easy for me.

To close a door merely because a window opens doesn't mean all one's emotional shadows are gone. The dark in a broken heart has a way of lingering in unseen corners.

Ronan nods his head at me as if to say, Can you handle this? A new life without your mother? I feel a sense of closeness to him blooming in my chest that assures me I can, at least as long as he's there to help me through it.

I nod back, wicking away my stubborn tears.

Pop!I'm startled out of my reverie by the cork from a magnum bottle of Brut champagne. Marie pours and we toast.

"To a new and brighter future," Marie heralds.

We all chime back the toast and take a good sip.

"Ah," we all say. The champagne, c'est magnifique! All except for Ronan. He sneezes.

"It's the bubbles," Ronan, the manly orc, offers.

We women laugh and laugh.

Ronan holds open the front door for me. "So?"

I smile. "I'm ready. I'm so excited to get me back. I don't know where the real me has been living all these last few years. But I've found her and I'm ready to be her again."

Ronan hugs me, and I squeak. That bruiser puppy doesn't know his own strength.

"Oops, sorry, Chey. To the future and you and Disastra, on top of the roaster mountain yet again!"

I watch as Ronan does some weird ass orc dance of joy in the parking lot. Man, orcs can dominate the forest. But dear God, keep them off the dance floor. He looks like a wounded monkey.

Still, it's kind of sweet to see him so excited, and I can't help the grin that spreads across my face. He's on my side, really, and after being traded around like a commodity in the wrestling community, his enthusiasm is touching.

"Meh, what the hell. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em!" I dance like a wounded monkey, too.

Cheyanne gets her groove back. Yeah. That she does.