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Date May 8th 2018 / Time 12:03AM / Status Not Recording
Location Presence Saint Joseph Hospital – Chicago, Illinois

I hate these places.

Then again, doesn’t everyone?

There’s always a feeling of dread when you walk into these places. A feeling of overwhelming fear and sadness.. And this time is no different.

In my hand is my phone. I’ve tried calling him eight times already.. Wanting, no needing to get in touch with him. He should be here. I bring the phone up again, dialing out and putting the phone up to my ear.

Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring.

I sigh and put my head down in my other hand as the phone hangs itself up.. Again.

“God damnit Jase… Where the fuck are you…”

Can’t even leave a damn voicemail. I sigh again, putting the phone back in my pocket and putting my head back down into my hands. There’s no use.

I can hear the hustle of urgent footsteps in front of me, the beeping of life recording machines, the hushed words of doctors and nurses, all mixing together into one deafening reminder of things that are lost… and the things that can be gained within these walls.

Now? All I can think about is loss… Loss.

“Luce?”

I jerk my head up at the sound of her voice, my hands falling back down into my lap. I look up and into Maggie’s eyes, seeing the same concern that I know is painted all over my own face. But concern about Rogan isn’t the only thing I’m feeling.

Sadness.

Anger.

Guilt.

I’ve been sitting here for.. God knows how long now, thinking about this night and what I could have done differently for it not to have ended the way it did. But my thoughts, they just go around in this never ending cycle – telling myself that I couldn’t have done anything to prevent this, telling myself that I shouldn’t have dismissed Gabriel the way I did – that this is all my fault, telling myself that it should have been me laying in that hospital bed, my foot dislocated from my ankle…

And the truth remains… It should be me. Rogan was just a statement. A way for Gabriel to remind me of exactly who in the fuck he is.

As if I’d ever forgotten that fact, no matter how much I’ve wanted to. No matter how much I’ve wished away the last half a year of him and I… I’ve never forgotten what lies behind those cold, calculating eyes.

I never needed a reminder.

I suppose I never will again.

“You okay?”

She asks, sitting down beside me. I haven’t really spoken much since we rushed out of the ring after the main event, running backstage to find him hanging from his mangled ankle. We watched in horror as they lowered his unconscious form to the concrete below so they could load him onto the stretcher.

After they took him, I stood there, just staring at the pool of blood left in his wake. It had been disturbed and the once perfect circle of blood was now a smear along the concrete. The visual disturbed me. It made me sick to think about how he felt in those moments, and made me think even more about how he struggled before Gabriel decided to show everyone what his endgame was.

I shudder and move around in the hard plastic chair, crossing my legs.

“Not really.”

“I know… I’m sorry. Have they said anything?”

I shake my head, looking out at the doctors and nurses scurrying around, taking care of their responsibilities.

I wish they’d just let me know how he is. I can’t stand the waiting… the worry. It’s unbearable.

“Excuse me, are you here for Mr. MacLean?”

Another voice breaks into my thoughts, and I look up into the kind eyes of a nurse. I nod my head and bring myself to my feet, trying to quiet my shaking hands as I wrench them together.

“Yeah, how is he?”

She nods and glances back towards the door she’d just came from, the room that Rogan’s in.

“He’s in rough shape, but he’s awake. You can go in and see him if you’d like.”

I glance back at Maggie and she nods her head. I don’t waste much time in heading to the door and turning the knob – pausing for a moment, nervousness hitting me hard. I swallow and push the door open, despite the feeling of wanting to blow chunks all over the hardwood.

At least I’m in the right place to do that sort of thing.

I step into the room, giving myself a moment to adjust to the lack of lighting before making my way to where my partner lays, staring out the window.

“Hey.”

I say softly; his attention wavering from the window as he looks in my direction.

“Lucy.”

I heave a sigh of relief as I approach the bed, but when I finally get the chance to really look at him, I see the evidence of the horrible act done upon him and the guilt, the sadness, the anger all rise up in my chest at once.

“Listen Rogan, I’m sor–”

“Aye. Don’t be.”

He replies before I can even finish the sentence.

I am sorry though. I’m damn sorry for what happened to him and my role in it.

“But I am. Is there anything I can do, Rogan?”

He shakes his head and turns his head back towards the window. That feeling in the pit of my stomach is getting worse. Not only am I the reason he’s hurt, and not just a fucking paper cut hurt.. But seriously hurt.. But he won’t even let me help him.

Some fucking partner I am.

“I can stay here and help you get home.. I’m sure Maggie would understand.”

Again, he shakes his head.

“I’ve got that handled, Lucy. Ye need ta get home an take care of yerself.”

I sigh and begin pacing around in front of the bed. I don’t believe for a second that he’s got someone coming here to help him, but I can’t really say anything because I know damn well that if I did then I’d be forcing him to do… or feel something that he doesn’t want to right now.

I don’t know what to do though…

Damned if I do, damned if I don’t.

At first I open my mouth to dispute his claim, but I hesitate and close my mouth again. Instead I just nod my head and make a move towards the door.

“If you need anything, you know where to find me…”

 

Fast Forward >>

Date May 9th 2018 / Time 10:17PM / Status Not Recording
Location The Wylde Residence – New York City, New York

The room is dark. I’m in bed. Conditions are just about perfect to get some rest… yet all I can do is lay here and listen to the sounds of the street below me. Stray horns honking, people shouting.. One would think that most people would be home in bed at ten o’clock on a Wednesday night…

Then again if they’re anything like me… they wouldn’t be sleeping anyway.

I’m tired. So fucking tired, but my mind just won’t shut off.

I could be across the city right now in Inwood, snuggling up with Maggie, letting her help me through this… I could be somewhere where I’m not alone – yet here I am. Alone. Miserable. Worried. I don’t know, I just needed to be by myself for the past couple of nights.

I don’t want to be comforted.

I don’t deserve it. Not after what happened to Rogan.

I wish I could go back in time and…

Fuck.

I can’t keep doing this to myself. Everyone keeps telling me that it wasn’t my fault, even Rogan himself. They keep saying that that son of a Bitch was going to do what he was going to do – regardless of what I did. I just don’t believe that though.

I believe that he calculates. He manipulates. Everything he does has a reason and what he did two nights ago was a custom job – made especially for me. Another unwanted gift. Another house full of roses… Except this one can’t be cleaned up as easily. A couple of trash bags and a few hours time won’t reattach Rogan’s ankle or unbleed the blood he bled…

I yawn and close my eyes, but all I can see is another replay of what happened two nights ago.. All I can hear is his message…

Please allow me…

The look on Rogan’s face.. Tired, beaten, scared… as Gabriel connected with that Catatonia.

My breath catches in my throat again as I lay here, reliving that moment – watching helplessly as Rogan fell backwards off of that ledge. My body tenses up as I hear that sickening pop, and the crack of his skull against that concrete wall… I squeeze my already closed eyes as I hear his scream and his subsequent silence.. A pool of blood forming below his unconscious form.

… To reintroduce myself.

I take a deep breath and roll over, pulling the blanket up to my chin. Relax. Just relax.

I try to clear my mind, pushing the memory out of my mind. It’s the only way I’m going to be able to fall asleep… I can’t keep functioning like this. I can’t keep reliving this. It’ll be my downfall. I know it. I feel it.

It’s just so damn hard to not.

Finally though, my body starts to relax and I can feel myself slowly drifting off. I hear something click off in the distance, but I ignore it… It’s probably just something outside…

Yeah..

Just something…

Something…

. . . .

I feel the air move around me and a presence standing behind me.. I open my eyes, looking around the darkened room… my heart starts beating harder as I slowly roll over, my eyes widening as I see him.

“GABRI–”

He moves towards me in one quick motion, extending his arms and I try to move away, but he grabs me, pulling me towards him – one hand roughly grabbing my hair and at the same time a sharp pain hits my neck..

What the…

“GA–”

 

Fast Forward >>

Date May ?th 2018 / Time ?:??AM / Status Not Recording
Location The Wylde Residence – New York City, New York

My eyes fly open and I sit up in bed, my heart beating out of my heaving chest. I feel like there’s ice flowing through my veins, every part of my body is cold – even though I’m still under the blanket.

He was here.

He was fucking here. I know it.

But what happened?

I reach up and touch the spot on my neck where I felt the pain.. But nothing. That can’t be. That can’t fucking be. I felt his hands on me. I felt him here. There’s no way… No fucking way that that was just a dream…

Right?

My chest tightens, my eyes scanning the room – wondering if he’s still here.

I pull my knees up to my chest and just sit here.. I can’t bring myself to move right now. Not until I really, really think this through. There’s gotta be some logical explanation for this.. Whatever this is.

Pulling my hands through my hair, I feel the spot where he grabbed my hair but I don’t feel anything out of the ordinary.

“Fuck…”

I let my hands come back down to my neck, thinking that maybe this time I’ll feel something, somewhere… and I do… a bump. I feel like I’m about to get sick, throwing the blankets off of me and practically running to the bathroom, eyeing my neck up in the mirror.

It’s red.

It’s a bump.

But that doesn’t mean anything. Does it?

If he were here.. He’d of left some kind of evidence, wouldn’t he have?

Abandoning the mirror, I head back into the bedroom.. Pulling the blanket completely off the bed, looking for anything, even a hair that isn’t mine.. Something that would tell me that I wasn’t alone last night…

But it’s all clean.

I get down on the floor and look around the bed.. There’s gotta be something, anything. I couldn’t have dreamed that.

It was too real.

Too fucking real.

“Luce?”

I hear the door close downstairs, and the click of Maggie’s heels on the floor below.

“Does anything look out of place down here?!”

I say, running down the stairs to meet her. If he came in down here, then maybe he left something down here.. But when I get to the bottom of the stairs, she’s standing in the foyer staring at me with confusion all over her face.

“What are you talking about Luce?”

“Did you notice anything when you came in? The door.. The.. The anything?”

Moving past her, I scan the room downstairs, examining all the pictures, seeing them all in the same spot I’d put them back in weeks ago…

“I didn’t notice anything.. What’s going on?”

I jump backwards as she touches my arm.

“Luce.. What’s going on?”

Putting my hand on my chest, I step backwards into the living room and sit down on the sofa. I’m going fucking crazy.

“He was here last night.”

“He? Who do you me– Gabriel? Your dad? Who?”

I nod my head.

“Your dad?”

I shake my head, closing my eyes.

“Gabriel? H-How do you know?”

My eyes open and I look over at her, trying to take a few deep breaths to keep myself from panicking.

“I don’t know… Maybe it was just a dream. I mean, I can’t find any evidence that anything happened.. Except my neck.”

She sits down beside me as I pull my hair back, showing her the only thing that can barely corroborate what I’m saying. She leans in close and touches my neck. Normally that would sent good chills through my body – but right now, I can hardly stand to be touched.

She notices my stiffened demeanor and she recoils, putting her hands down into her lap.

“Honestly, it doesn’t look suspicious. Maybe it was just a dream, Luce. You have been under a lot of stress lately.”

“You’re right.”

She’s right. I mean with everything going on, it’s really no wonder I dreamed about him doing what he fucking does… being an asshole. Trying to manipulate me into losing my shit and apparently my title – Even when he’s not here.

Jesus Christ.

“I need to get my shit together…”

 

Eden. Jet. Long time no see.

Oh wait.. Jet, that’s not entirely true is it? Didn’t we just see each other a few weeks ago.. You know, at No Holds….

Sorry, is that still a sore subject for you? My bad. I’ll try to remember that, you know for the next time they stick you and I in a match together. But for now, I think I’m going to remind you of a few things.

Things don’t end well for you when we end up in the ring together Jet. You’re a smart man, I’m sure you’ve figured that out by now. But this time you’ve got your bestie Eden beside you.. And I’m sure the two of you believe that as long as you’re together and on the same page that there’s nothing that can stop The Court, am I right?

Oh, I’m sorry.. Did I fuck up again? Is Gabriel the ‘Bestie’? You’re the less talented little brother, right? The black sheep? Or do they just call you the third wheel? How unoriginal, I know. They could at least come up with something that gives the illusion of inclusion.

But then again; I’m sure it makes you feel pretty great to see your sisters best friend challenging me for the world title in a few weeks at Massive Melee, huh? Thinking that he’s going to go out there and do what you failed to do at No Holds Barred… Worrying that he and Eden are finally going to see you for what you really are… You know what I mean…

You are a smart man, after all.

And here I stand, holding the very thing that you desire. Well, correction, the thing that everyone desires. Especially The Court. Especially The Besties and Jet Somers. I mean you all made that blatantly obvious, didn’t you? But you know, I shouldn’t have thought anyone would take the high road when it comes to this world championship.

I mean Jet, look at what you and your friends did to Zane before No Holds Barred. You made it pretty obvious that you wanted Zane to be less than one hundred percent. And here we are on the cusp of the Massive Melee and look at what’s happening… The Court is trying to rip Lucy Wylde apart.

Can’t you people earn what you’ve got without all the shenanigans? How fucking hard is that?

I did it.

I mean good old ‘same shit, different day’ went out and earned this belt without having to resort to all the games. But I guess that’s just too much for you all.

So here we are this week… I guess you two are hoping to capitalize on an emotionally compromised Lucy Wylde – hoping to weaken me a bit for your little butt buddy, right? It’s a shame, really. You all are so fucking talented. Even you, Jet.

But especially you, Edie.

I hope you didn’t think I’d forgotten you. I could never forget my own personal Satan. As much as I hate to admit it, you and I share a common bond. You and I are the only two women to have ever held the UGWC World Heavyweight Championship.. And well, that proves a few things – one of them being that we are fucking badasses.

It’s just a shame that you’re such a little bitch.

It’s a shame that you’ve turned into the very thing that annoys you. All we need to do is dye your hair the lightest shade of blonde possible, bleach your skin, slip some red contacts in your eyes, put you down into a wheelchair and set you free with a computer and a dictionary of internet slang to spruce up your speech.

Aww, too far?

Well then stop fucking bitching about what Alan did to you. You do shit and then you wonder why everyone wants to fucking hurt you. You fuck with people relentlessly, you badger them and you make fun of them.. Yet you wonder why people want to set you on fire.

It’s not really that God damned hard to figure out.

And yeah, that’s the UGWC World Champion saying that. Does it look like I’m worried about how people are going to look at me when I say that I can see why Vain wanted to fucking burn you alive? Not one fucking bit because you’re a piece of garbage and everyone… Everyone sees that. Everyone knows that. So no one gives a single shit that one of the most loved members of this promotion shares in the collective hatred of you and your band of assholes.

I’d accuse you of being jealous, but I know that’s not your style. It’s not that you dislike the fact that the fans love me. You just want them to turn against me. You want them to look at me with the same disgust that they look at you, Jet and Gabriel with.

And that’s a lot of fucking disgust.

But I digress.

It all comes down to Monday night. The Court Vs. us. Yeah, we don’t have a cool name yet.. But I figure one will come about at the right time. As much as you all try, as much as you want to see me alone and desperate – just so that it’ll support your petty little insults.. It’s not happening. I’ve got support.

Maggie and I worked seamlessly last week. I expect more of the same this week, and while I see you two as far more of a challenge than those two we faced last week – you’re not unbeatable. I think that’s been proven more often than not lately.

So prepare for a fight, because regardless of how much you throw at me… at us… It’s just not going to be enough.