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Chapter Forty-One

AURORA

Rise

Episode 582

Washington D.C

I was kept off TV for two long weeks. There was an HR meeting about the entire situation, one where everyone was extremely apologetic about the ‘outside hack’ that violated a few GRW talents. That’s the story they went with to the public. There was an outside hack violating the privacy of wrestlers and it was handled. By ‘handled’ they meant that Austin was fired and blacklisted from the industry.

Theo’s been on my ass about going after him for revenge porn, but that ruins GRW’s cover-up story and risks outing Theo for assault, which Nathan has been an angel about and is protecting him. Money talks. I’m convinced that Theo could get away with murder and Nathan would cover it up for his champion. If I didn’t want a future at GRW, I probably would go after Austin, but this is where I want to be. I can’t risk it.

Sometimes sacrifices have been made .

The public harassment has died off a bit. News of my pictures getting leaked dropped quickly after Theo’s own became public. That was much more interesting. Now, the internet fans and the dirt sheets have moved on to the next story, Zayden Trilow, also known as Trilogy, one of the fastest growing young stars in GRW, suffered a gruesome arm injury on live TV. It just… snapped .

So, everyone’s worried more about Zayden’s future than how he’s currently doing. Which isn’t well. I don’t really know Zayden, but I’ve texted him a few times to check in. Because that’s what people should do. Common sense, right?

Today’s my first day back on camera and I’m sort of terrified. My stomach has been twisting and flipping the entire time. I wanted to puke during the plane ride here and in the Uber to and from the hotel. Anxiety is setting in hard. I thought about calling out. Theo told me he would drag me by my ankles to work if I did that.

I hate that the thought of that turned me on a little bit.

We haven’t talked much about what happened between us. The kiss. Theo hasn’t pushed which feels like the most un-Theo thing he could do. I want him to push. I want him to ask me about it because I am over being scared.

Fear can’t control me. I can’t let it ruin things like it so badly wants to do.

That’s why I showed up at work today. Even if I’m keeping my head down, trying to avoid the gaze of my coworkers. Not like any of them care as much as I think they do. I just focus on heading toward Theo’s locker room.

“Roo!” The shout of the nickname that only one person uses makes me finally look up. Theo stands, leaning with one shoulder against the wall. His gestures with his head for me to come over and join his conversation.

Standing across from him is the familiar mountain of a man. Micah’s wearing a cut-up t-shirt. The sleeves are cut to show off his tattooed sleeves, and the bottom of the shirt is cut into a crop top, showing off insanely defined abs. Blond hair is pulled back into a low bun at the nape of his neck, stubble lines his chiseled jaw.

His blue eyes settle on me and a smile pulls over his lips, showing off blindingly white teeth. “Aurora,” he greets me.

Annoyance is painted on Theo’s face as clear as day. He’s not bothering to hide it. Reaching out, his hand settles around my waist and he yanks me to him. I bite back a smirk, amused at how he’s acting.

I don’t know a lot about where things are between us. He took care of me at my lowest. He gives me butterflies. He named his cat after my favorite Fleetwood Mac album. But neither of us have talked about what this does or doesn’t mean. It’s unspoken between the two of us. Maybe it’s better if it stays that way.

“Micah and I were talking about our match later,” he informs me, keeping me pinned to his side.

“Okay.” I nod, giving him the chance to continue.

“The plan is for Theo to get DQed,” Micah chimes in. “He had the idea to play up the relationship between the two of you.”

My cheeks flush when he refers to our relationship . Relationship can mean a lot of things. We’re partners. We’re co-workers. We’re…whatever we are. He makes butterflies flutter in the pit of my stomach.

There’s a smirk on Theo’s face when he catches my blush. “The thought is, you hop on the apron, try to distract Micah. He ends up throwing me into the ropes, you take a bump, and I get pissed off. Hit him with brass knuckles. You good with that?”

It’s one of the most common and repeatedly done valet spots. I get knocked off the ring apron because my distraction attempt gets thrown in my face. Easy enough. I shrug. “Doable, yeah.”

“Perfect,” Micah says, but his voice comes out as a purr. Theo’s grip on my waist tightens.

Silly boy—does he not know that, while Micah is gorgeous , he’s the one that’s stolen my attention? Of course not. I haven’t told him, and everyone knows that he can’t take a damn hint about anything.

Feeling the need to make sure that Theo feels secure, I lean my head against the side of his chest. “Anything else?” I ask the two of them. “I gotta get into hair and makeup. Shayna may murder me if I’m late again.”

“I like keeping you alive, baby doll. Go to Shayna. I’ll see you in a bit.”

So, if I knew I’d be taking a bump tonight, I probably would’ve packed different shoes. These strappy heels aren’t the most secure, but I’m making it work. At least I feel like a goddamn goddess in my dress tonight. It’s a white halter dress with crisscross cutouts and split thighs. Shayna killed it on the hair and makeup, like usual.

Standing on the outside of the ring, I pay close attention to everything going on within it. Micah has Theo in a headlock before flinging him into the ropes. Theo uses the momentum to bounce off of the ropes, rushing back toward him, but Micah drops down, avoiding the incoming hit.

He kips back up, landing perfectly on his feet as the crowd cheers him on. Basking in the attention, he turns to gloat, and Theo hits him from behind as the cheers shift into boos. I take the opportunity to play it up, clapping my hands as I pace ringside.

I don’t feel panicked being out here. Eyes are on me, but not because they’ve seen my naked body, but because I get their attention. I haven’t heard a single asshole in the crowd yell something negative.

Maybe Theo’s distraction method, although slightly insane, did work.

His brown eyes flick to mine and he winks at me, making heat swirl in the pit of my stomach. You can’t fake that .

The match continues, neither man getting the upper hand in this situation. Waiting for my cue. Once I notice Theo tossing Micah into the ropes, I climb up onto the apron. I give Micah my best bedroom eyes, trailing a finger from my collarbone down, trying to get his gaze to follow. An obvious attempt at seduction that’ll be easy to pick up on TV.

It looks like Micah’s falling for it. Theo goes to grab him from behind, but Micah uses his momentum to push Theo into the ropes. When his body hits, I go to fall off, but I land wrong. There’s a soft snap, and pain radiates from my right ankle up my shin.

Theo’s eyes drift down to look at me, and he can see that something’s wrong.

The show must go on.

Suddenly, he looks enraged, and I can’t tell if he’s acting or if it’s legit. Either way, he doesn’t care that the ref sees him reach into his trunks and grab the knuckles. Without hesitation, they crack across Micah’s jaw.

And he sells it like death, dropping back to the mat, his head lulling to the side. Boos rain out. “Bullshit!” The crowd chants in unison. The referee looks shocked, eyes wide as he gestures for the bell to be rung.

“Winner of his match due to disqualification, Micah Duvall!”

Not waiting around for the referee to ream him out, Theo climbs out of the ring. He drops down to where I’m still on the ground. “Your ankle?” he asks, as if he automatically knew.

“Yeah,” I whisper back to him. The camera isn’t focused on us. It’s focused on Micah, who still lays in the center of the ring, the ringside doctor checking him over.

Panic swells in my stomach. I don’t want to be hurt. I’ve never gotten legitimately injured from wrestling so far. It was only a matter of time, I knew that. Injuries are common when what you do is dangerous. But fuck .

What if this costs me? Nathan’s going to be pissed. I know it’s all on a thin rope lately. I’m becoming too much of a problem. My contract, my hopes and dreams. All of it is sliding out of my hands. I’ve had a really shitty streak of luck lately.

“Let me help you up. We’ll get to the back and look at it.” Theo wraps my left arm around his neck, helping me stand up on my left leg. I try to put weight on my right leg and immediately wince in pain. Okay, not happening.

With him supporting most of my weight, I hobble backstage and through the curtain. We get to Theo’s locker room and he drops me down on the couch.

His skin is flushed from his match. Sweaty. I’m sure he’s sore and tired, yet he kneels down in front of me. His fingers delicately undo the straps of my heel, pulling them from my foot. A callused finger runs over the swelling. “I’m going to go get you ice, Aurora. It doesn’t look broken. Can you move it? Is it just sore or…” He trails off, leaving the sentence open to me.

I move my ankle from side to side, wincing the entire time. It’s killing me, but it’s possible. My ankle is swollen, so ice is probably a good idea. “I think it’s just sprained.”

“Probably,” he agrees. “We’ll ice it and get you in to see the trainer. You’re probably going to have to go to the hospital though.”

Fuck. I groan. This is it. This is the end of my time at GRW.

I’m not going out with a bang. I’m going out with a goddamn whimper.