Post by bennett on Mar 29, 2022 1:58:09 GMT -5
Welcome Back, Jason
====================
MARCH 17th, 2022
CANCUN, MEXICO
The wedding of Savannah Andrews and Andrew Holt.
Something the future Legacy Champion had been wishing and waiting for since she joined up with True Society.
A storybook romance brought to life.
Only, it turned out to be anything but.
In fact, today is probably the worst day of Billy Bennett’s entire life.
Worse than the time she got kidnapped by a rival crew in Kentucky, and was chained up outside in the harsh Appalachian winter... before she managed to seduce one of the guards, and escape after tearing out his throat with her teeth.
The helplessness she felt then was nothing compared to what she felt now, watching Savannah throw her life away... and knowing that she couldn’t do a damn thing to stop it, without breaking her code of silence.
One of the few things she would never do.
One of the few things she would never do.
Worse than the time she walked in on Baxton - her favourite brother - overdosing on some heroin she’d given him. Fortunately, she’d arrived in time to hit him with a dose of Narcan that saved his life... a life she had put at risk by introducing him to drugs in the first place.
The guilt she felt then was nothing compared to what she felt now, knowing that she played a part in Savannah falling into Holt’s arms. Knowing that it was something she’d wanted ever since she came to Fallout. Now it was happening, and the only thing she felt was self-loathing over the fact that she was seemingly incapable of preventing it.
Worse than the time she caught a bullet to the chest during a drive-by in Baton Rouge; it had come within inches of her heart, a killshot that she avoided through luck.
The pain she felt when that bullet tore through her flesh was nothing compared to the pain she felt while standing by helplessly, as the only person who’d ever treated her like an actual friend took her first steps down a path that could only end in tragedy.
Billy didn’t even want to be here for this cursed union; but she refused to force Savannah to go through this alone. And there was another reason, too.
A reason she tries to communicate with her eyes, after handing over the rings to the Pastor and turning to stare - long and hard - into her friend’s eyes.
‘Run, Sav... please run... just run...’
Billy wishes she could scream it aloud, but she can’t; because of the inevitable follow-up question, ‘but why?’
Because this wasn’t Arik Holt. This was his sick, psychotic brother.
A fact she could never reveal to another living soul, despite the disgust she now felt towards the man. She had once looked up to him as some kind of visionary who would throw the company into a chaos that Billy so desperately craved.
Turns out that none of that was true.
A part of her regrets not killing him when she had the chance... might not even be too late. She considers this head as she steps back behind Savannah, to watch the rest of this travesty play out. Bloody visions play out in her mind, images of her slowly torturing Holt to death, taking him apart bit by bit and keeping him alive the entire time.
Mentally preparing for the day he loses control and hurts Savannah Andrews. The day Billy would be left with no choice but to kill the individual she had pledged loyalty to on that cold night in Whalan.
And as she daydreams, the wedding progresses in front of a mute and traumatized Billy Bennett.
“I, Savannah Marie Andrews, take you, Arik Thomas Holt, for my... um... lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer...”
Each word is like a knife in her heart, and it takes every ounce of her considerable willpower to remain standing; to not break down in tears and collapse, or grab Savannah by the hand and pull her away before lunging at Andrew to snap his neck in front of a live television audience.
When Savannah pauses to look back at her, Billy’s eyes are already glistening... but not for the reasons that her friend might assume. This isn’t a happy, joyous moment. It’s the most painful thing that Billy had ever been forced to endure.
It’s only when Savannah turns back to face her soon-to-be-husband that Billy finally summons up the courage to mumble something under her breath. An apology spoken to nobody, but meant for the one person she could truly call a ‘friend’.
Her confession; or the closest thing to one that she was able to offer.
Her confession; or the closest thing to one that she was able to offer.
“I’m sorry...”
====================
MARCH 18th, 2022
DEEP LAKE, FL
THE BENNETT COMPOUND
Billy Bennett’s personal shack sits unused; the young woman who makes this little structure her home is currently fighting for her life in the main event of Proving Ground down in Mexico.
The door comes flying inwards, knocked off its hinges as a chain and lock fall to the wooden floor. A large figure is silhouetted in the doorway, lit from behind by the pale moonlight.
Bo Bennett, stepping foot in his sister’s private dwelling for the first time since they were kids. She must have been about nine years old when their parents had put Billy out here. Almost like Papa Bray thought it best to keep her at arm’s length; maybe like he didn’t feel particularly safe knowing she was wandering the halls of the main house while he slept.
He’s alone, unaccompanied by guards as he walks into the room, moving through piles of clothes and glancing at the insane phrases and symbols carved into the walls. He scans the ground, before looking at the blood-stained mattress that sits in the middle of the shack.
There’s no sheets or blankets, only a thin pillow that barely qualifies as such. With a quirk of his eyebrow, Bo kicks it off the mattress, revealing the very thing he was here for.
A Colt Single Action Army revolver, over a hundred years old but still in impeccable condition. It’s loaded, and the handle has been customized with a small plate that bears the State flag of Florida.
An old family relic, passed down through the Bennett clan since 1873.
The same weapon Billy used the day she saved Bo’s life for the first time... by murdering their father.
As Bo holds the weapon up in the pale silver moonlight that filters through the shack’s windows, he thinks back to the day in question. The day he saw that his sister was capable of things he wasn’t, and that she could do what was necessary to protect her brothers.
----------
The memory comes from more than a decade ago; a much younger Bo lay on the bottom of a boat floating in a murky swamp. The young man chokes on his own blood; he has a busted nose, blackened eyes, and several teeth knocked out. The handiwork of the clan patriarch Bray Bennett, who brought him out here to confront his son after some betrayal, imagined or real.
That same man is now face-down, blood leaking out of a hole in his head. Standing by his feet is the diminutive but oddly frightening Billy Bennett - no more than sixteen at the time - holding that same Colt.
Stepping over the body of their father, Billy looks down at her older brother who stares back in terror, almost expecting to be next.
He looks into her eyes, and sees nothing in them. No soul, no humanity, no sense of right or wrong, or even the ability to recognize the full extent of what she had just done.
He looks into her eyes, and sees nothing in them. No soul, no humanity, no sense of right or wrong, or even the ability to recognize the full extent of what she had just done.
Bo had wanted to take over for years, knowing that he could do a better job expanding the family’s drug and gunrunning businesses than his father or grandfather ever had. But something had held him back from doing the very thing his sister had just effortlessly accomplished.
He had been scared of their father. Too scared to act.
He had been scared of their father. Too scared to act.
He had only received a fraction of the abuse - both verbal and physical - that Billy had. And yet she didn’t hesitate to do what brother had so desperately wanted to.
His thoughts are interrupted when the young Billy Bennett extends one hand towards him, her mouth opening behind a tangled wall of hair... and when she speaks, her voice sounds different than it had at the start of this ‘hunting’ trip. Rather than her usual energetic, half-screaming voice, she speaks in a cold, emotionless hiss; sounding every bit the snake that had been the family’s symbol for generations.
“It’s okay, brother. Billy’s got ya.”
After a brief moment, still concerned about what Billy might have in store for him in her current state of mind, Bo takes her hand and allows the much smaller woman to yank him back to his feet.
“Toss him over. Then we can talk ‘bout what you're gonna say when we get back home without the ol' man.”
Billy’s voice sounded completely unconcerned about the implications of what she’d just done. They had a job to do, and there was no room for mourning a man who had been more of a tyrant to his children than a proper father.
Bo’s voice was shaky and weak in the face of his sister, who stares up at him with dead eyes that only seem to unnerve more him the longer he stares into them.
“Y-yeah, sis... of course...”
----------
The memory is one that brings out conflicting emotions in Bo.
It was a moment that showed him that his sister did care about him. She didn’t stand by and let their father beat him to death; instead, she took a chance in killing him, not knowing what it might mean for the family or for her own personal well-being when their uncles found out.
It was a moment that showed him that his sister did care about him. She didn’t stand by and let their father beat him to death; instead, she took a chance in killing him, not knowing what it might mean for the family or for her own personal well-being when their uncles found out.
But it also drove another point home, one that had always bothered him. She was everything their father had wanted Bo to be. Ruthless, cunning, naturally capable and utterly unafraid of death.
Over their childhood, Bo had grown to hate Billy for that; and though her unique qualities had made her the perfect lieutenant, it also made her a threat.
He’d always known it was only a matter of time before his sister realized she was the stronger of the pair... if she hadn’t known it all along, going along with the status quo until she got bored, or hungry, or whatever else went on in her head.
There's a second voice from behind him. It’s Benji Bennett, standing in the doorway of the shack.
“Hey, Bo. Just got news. Looks like Bill won her match.”
“Ain’t that something. I’m so happy for her.”
He mutters the words without emotion, not even turning around to face Benji. He continues to stare blankly at the pistol, as his thumb runs over the State flag on the handle.
“So. We still goin’ through with this? Those boys are in-place and ready.”
“Of course we’re going through with it. Have them follow her to whatever rathole she’s sleeping in... and tell them to get close. Billy’s got the luck of the Devil, can’t count on hitting her from range.”
“You got it, Bo.”
Benji leans against the doorframe as he stares at his Bo's back. His usually inscrutable older brother has been visibly troubled lately; this conflict brewing with Billy obviously played major part in it. There had been bad blood between the two oldest Bennett children for as long as Benji could remember, for reasons he couldn’t.
The whole family knew a war between them was inevitable. Surely Bo and Billy knew it, too.
Benji is about to shrug it all off and go to make the call, when Bo suddenly turns around and walks up to him.
“Burn it.”
“Huh?”
“The shack. Burn it. I don’t want anything left standing to remind me of that fucking bitch.”
Before Benji can respond, Bo pushes past him, stomping through the mud back towards the main house; a shadow seems to hang over him, even in the dark of the evening.
“...so, it really is happenin'..."
====================
====================
MARCH 19th, 2022
CANCUN, MEXICO
HACIENDA HOTEL
Billy groans as she sits on the edge of a bed, dipping one hand into an ice bucket filled with tepid water to splash liquid on her sweaty face.
She hadn’t even celebrated her victory; it didn’t feel right.
She’d won, sure.
The belt.
But she’d lost Savannah; it seemed like even before the wedding took place, Holt was doing his best to keep her as far away from Billy as possible.
Not only had she lost the one positive thing in her life, but she lost something else that was arguably even more important to the woman who loved violence and pain above all else... she lost the one man who could challenge her.
She’d won, sure.
The belt.
But she’d lost Savannah; it seemed like even before the wedding took place, Holt was doing his best to keep her as far away from Billy as possible.
Not only had she lost the one positive thing in her life, but she lost something else that was arguably even more important to the woman who loved violence and pain above all else... she lost the one man who could challenge her.
The only person who had ever really hurt her inside the ring. The only one who had been able to back up their words with actions.
She’d killed Havoc in a moment of blind fury. She saw red and lost control; in that animalistic state of mind, she’d robbed herself of the satisfaction that only he had proven capable of providing. The hate she’d spent her entire time in this company provoking... he was the only one was able to follow through on it, and now he was gone.
By her hands.
By her hands.
She fucked up, again. Another broken toy; but this one was irreplaceable, one of a kind.
Billy knew she would never know his like again, and that thought - even more than the anxiety she felt after having Savannah pulled away from her - tormented her. It made her feel like winning the Legacy Championship wasn’t a cause for celebration, but for mourning.
Rather than head off to the clubs for shots and lines off her new belt, Billy returned here, collapsed on the bed, and fell into a deep, depressed sleep.
She’d been out ever since she got back to this $20 a night room; over twelve hours had passed, with no memory of even arriving here. Billy assumes she remembered to pay cash and use a fake ID, but she definitely couldn't swear to it.
Coughing loudly several times and shutting her eyes tight as a fresh wave of pain passes through her head, she's still feeling the effects of those unprotected haymakers from Havoc.
Billy takes another handful of water from the ice bucket and rubs it over her face and hair, trying to force her way through the pain. It's about as close to a shower as she can handle right now... or most days, for that matter.
Billy takes another handful of water from the ice bucket and rubs it over her face and hair, trying to force her way through the pain. It's about as close to a shower as she can handle right now... or most days, for that matter.
As the water drips off her skin, Billy stares down into the bucket while considering what last night’s victory means for her. She’d done it; she’d accomplished in months what some veterans here never dare dream of.
Not only had she seized the top title in Project: Honor, one of the most acclaimed and sought-after prizes in the entire industry, but she had ended the Nightmare Tyrant’s brief reign of terror.
And with the end of his reign came the end of his life, as well.
He really should have watched what he said; something in those endless angry rants of his must have really got under Billy Bennett’s skin.
It’s just a shame that he wasn't smart enough to know that she’s the last person anyone should ever try to aggravate.
It’s just a shame that he wasn't smart enough to know that she’s the last person anyone should ever try to aggravate.
Havoc was asking for it, he deserved it, and nobody with two brain cells to rub together would ever mourn his death.
Except for Billy Bennett. She would never admit it, but she missed him already. Just knowing that someone with such power was out there to fight her at every step, to stand in her way, to force her to become stronger, faster, more vicious than she already was.
The most exciting rivalry of her entire life, over in the span of a month.
At least she would always have the memories.
“Shit, Chris...” she mumbles to herself as she stares down at her own reflection in the water.
“Could’ve been the start of a beautiful friendship...” continues Billy, standing up and kicking the bucket over, soaking the filthy carpet with liquid as she steps towards the door.
“But ya just couldn’t stop runnin’ your fuckin' mouth...”
Billy needs a drink, and some fresh air. Fortunately for her, she can find both by walking to the bar on the corner of the street.
Not even bothering to change out of the clothes she’d been sleeping in, Billy grabs her Bowie knife from the bedside table and fixes it to her belt.
Leaving the room, she locks the door and begins to walk down the hall towards the stairs. She hasn’t made it more than a few feet away from her room, when something stops her in her tracks.
A noise she hadn’t heard since the week of The Crowning, when she went through a painful, hallucinogen-assisted detox to clear her head prior to Wargames.
A noise she hadn’t heard since the week of The Crowning, when she went through a painful, hallucinogen-assisted detox to clear her head prior to Wargames.
A low, consistent static sound that seems to emanate from deep within her own head.
The same warning signal that she had relied on her life, something that had been with her as long as she could remember. Billy had just started to get accustomed to its absence, and its sudden return gives her pause as she looks over her shoulder for any possible threats.
She is glancing back for a second or two at most, but when her eyes return to the path in front of her the hallway is blocked by two rapidly approaching individuals. Dressed in long-sleeved shirts, she takes notice of the tattoos creeping up their wrists and necks before her hand travels to the sheathed knife on her belt.
It’s obvious what they’re here for by the way they eye her up, the way they move, and the gang affiliations made obvious by the tattoos. Iron crosses and other white nationalist symbols; an odd sight this far into Mexico, but she doesn’t exactly have time to ponder the implications right now.
By the time she pulls out the blade, they’re both nearly on top of her; it’s only her speed and instincts - honed to razor sharpness through countless life-or-death encounters - that enable her to plunge the Bowie knife into the throat of one of the men.
Billy doesn’t have the opportunity to pull the weapon back, as the handle quickly becomes slick with blood spurting from the man’s neck, slipping out of her hand as he slumps to the ground. He's dying, or thereabouts.
One down, but the second man isn’t about to let the same thing happen to him.
The young woman is stronger than her size would ever suggest, but the height and weight advantage is difficult to overcome in a surprise attack; the attacker uses that to his full advantage by tackling her to the ground, pinning Billy under his significant bulk.
“You fucked up now, boy!” she hisses at him, arms trying to find a grip on the man’s neck... but he’s able to pull his upper body back, far enough to be out of her flailing reach.
“Don’t think so...” he spits, as his large hands wrap around Billy's neck, exerting a crushing pressure that immediately cuts off her oxygen intake and starts the clock to her losing consciousness.
Though she does her best to fight back, the man outweighs her by over a hundred pounds, and his grip on her neck saps her strength with every second that passes. Before long, her vision is fading, eyes glassy and unfocused as they begin to roll back in her head...
...she feels herself slipping away...
...it’s over...
~~~~~
Billy's life doesn’t flash before her eyes in her final moments; instead, she sees something else.
A brief vision of what might happen after her death.
A brief vision of what might happen after her death.
She sees Savannah Holt; her nose is bloody, her face is bruised. Far from her usual fierce, confident self, she’s sniffling and whimpering as she curls up in the corner of a dimly lit room, holding one hand out to shield herself from further blows.
"Please, stop... please... stop... I'll be good, just stop..."
Billy knows who did this to her, and she knows she could have prevented it; she’ll have to die knowing that she failed the one person who ever treated her like anything more than an attack dog. Billy stood by and let the one bright spot in her life get married to a psychopath, a man - it turns out - neither of them really knew the first thing about.
He could be capable of anything. Billy had seen him kill before; could he do the same to Savannah, too?
Before she can dwell any further, the image changes.
She now sees her younger brother, Baxton. Billy's favourite; the one who’d gone into the depths of addiction and depravity with her, laughing alongside his sister the entire time.
She now sees her younger brother, Baxton. Billy's favourite; the one who’d gone into the depths of addiction and depravity with her, laughing alongside his sister the entire time.
The only sibling who really understood - and accepted - Billy for what she was.
He’s on his knees, the barrel of a gun - that old Colt SAA revolver - pressed up against the side of his head. Bo holds the pistol’s handle, smirking as he looks down at his brother... who had always made it clear he sided with Billy.
Another loose end to tie up, now that she was out of the way.
“Bo, it’s me, man... you don’t gotta do this... I'm your brother...”
“Sorry, Baxton, but it’s never a good idea to back a junkie’s play. Try and remember that in the next life.”
Bo begins to pull the trigger as Baxton sobs; but before the gun fires, the image changes again.
Strangely enough, it’s not a friend or family member she sees next.
It's Candi Cain, crawling along bare concrete on hands and knees.
It's Candi Cain, crawling along bare concrete on hands and knees.
“No... no... help... help...”
Her long nails scratch and break on the hard floor, which seems to be wet and sticky with some viscous red fluid. She doesn't get far, before a massive, imposing figure appears out of the darkness behind her.
It’s Mr. Wright, smiling wide as he reaches down to grab hold of Candi’s ankle, pulling her back into the shadows as she continues to shout.
It’s Mr. Wright, smiling wide as he reaches down to grab hold of Candi’s ankle, pulling her back into the shadows as she continues to shout.
“Help me, Billy!”
~~~~~
Oddly enough, it’s that vision that seems to give her the final burst of strength necessary to escape the grip around her neck and fight back...
...when her eyes snap open, she’s got both thumbs deep in the eye sockets of the man who was strangling her to death only moments before. Billy slams his head back against the floor until he stops struggling... and, by the looks of it, breathing too.
“Aw... shit... shitshitshit...” she mumbles between coughs, struggling to get air back into her lungs. Her entire neck is one bruised, red mass of burst blood vessels.
Billy really needs to get out of here. Suddenly she wishes she could mentally confirm that she had her shit together enough to use a fake ID when checking in last night, but it’s too late to worry about something like that.
There is, however, one last thing she has to do.
Pulling up the shirt sleeve of the man nearest to her, she spots it immediately. A shamrock, with the letters ‘AB’ inked into it. If the shaved heads and iron crosses weren’t proof enough, there was no mistaking that tattoo for anything else.
A pair of scumbags from the Aryan Brotherhood were the ones who almost did the impossible by ending her life.
Her brother had always relied on those racist fucks to do dirty work. Usually, they handled jobs inside the prison system, where they held the most power; but they occasionally did some work outside the walls for Bo, whenever Billy or one of her other brothers were too busy to handle it personally.
“So it's like that, huh?” is the only thing Billy has time to mumble, before stumbling to her feet, still rubbing her bruised throat as she heads back towards her room.
Time for her to pack up as quickly as possible, get to the truck, and start putting some distance between herself and these bodies.
Time for her to pack up as quickly as possible, get to the truck, and start putting some distance between herself and these bodies.
====================
MARCH 21st, 2022
LAREDO, TX
SIXTY EIGHT CLUB
Billy’s first priority after crossing the border was ditching her old GMC pickup truck for a used Jeep. She'd been driving that truck for years now; her brother's soldiers would be on the lookout for it, once word got back that the hitmen didn't finish the job.
Her next stop was the dive bar known as the ‘68 Club’. She’d been here a few times before; the poor lighting and general ‘mind your own fucking business’ vibe of the place made it the perfect public location to meet up with business partners from south of the border.
Her next stop was the dive bar known as the ‘68 Club’. She’d been here a few times before; the poor lighting and general ‘mind your own fucking business’ vibe of the place made it the perfect public location to meet up with business partners from south of the border.
Only now, she’s here on personal business. There’s no doubt in her mind that the two men who attempted to kill her were sent by her brother.
Which made her next steps very precarious.
There was no going back home to the Bennett compound, that much was certain.
There was no going back home to the Bennett compound, that much was certain.
Billy knows that she would have a good chance of sneaking onto the property and - with a bit of luck - slitting her brother’s throat, or emptying a clip into him.
What was likely to happen after that wasn’t exactly ideal, though. She has no illusions about being able to enter the compound, kill her eldest brother, and make it out alive.
It just didn’t seem possible, and while going out in a firefight after exacting vengeance on Bo wasn’t the worst end she could imagine... well... there were still wrongs she had to right, before she could throw her life away with a clear conscience.
She had to play it safe for perhaps the first time in her life. It was a novel idea, and one that she was still struggling with. A part of her wanted to storm the family property with guns blazing, taking out Bo and as many of his lieutenants as she could before catching a bullet.
But where would that leave Savannah?
Where would that leave her brothers who were openly loyal to her?
Where would it leave Project: Honor itself, without her to smash the status quo and rebuild the company as a monument to chaos?
Where would that leave her brothers who were openly loyal to her?
Where would it leave Project: Honor itself, without her to smash the status quo and rebuild the company as a monument to chaos?
Billy couldn’t let herself die yet; there was still so much to do.
So she was here, in this bar.
Fortunately, word hadn’t spread about her standing with the family. No doubt Bo had wanted to keep their falling out a secret, until he could confirm her death.
All she had to do was show her face to the bartender, and she was ushered into a private office behind the bar. Billy needed to make a few phone calls while she planned her next move.
The first number she punched in after taking a seat belonged to one of countless contraband cellphones floating around Rikers Island. It rings three times before it’s picked up by a very familiar voice.
Her brother, Bobby Bennett.
The first member of the family in generations to see the inside of a prison cell, a fact that Billy herself felt no small amount of guilt for. She’d taken him on his first job, all the way to New York to intercept a shipment of drugs intended for the Five Families.
The first member of the family in generations to see the inside of a prison cell, a fact that Billy herself felt no small amount of guilt for. She’d taken him on his first job, all the way to New York to intercept a shipment of drugs intended for the Five Families.
It had gone off without a hitch... until they split up to drive back to Florida.
Billy had stored the drugs in her vehicle, but in the heat of the moment - celebrating a huge score taken from a group as powerful and imposing as the Cosa Nostra - she had neglected to take Bobby’s gun from him.
Billy had stored the drugs in her vehicle, but in the heat of the moment - celebrating a huge score taken from a group as powerful and imposing as the Cosa Nostra - she had neglected to take Bobby’s gun from him.
It was that firearm which the police had discovered after pulling him over for a routine traffic stop.
One simple mistake on her part bought her brother six years behind bars.
Sure, Bobby should have known enough to dispose of the pistol without being told to do so; but Billy was supposed to be there to hold his hand, to show him the ropes, and make sure nothing happened.
And she’d dropped the ball.
Just another thing that haunted the woman during her rare lucid moment. There's no doubt that it was one of the countless memories she had tried to bury under a mountain of narcotics and bloodshed in the intervening years.
“Yeah?”
The sound of her brother’s voice brings a smile to her face; he was always one of the good ones. He didn’t judge her for being a girl, or a junkie, or a psychopath. Bobby loved her for what she was: his sister... and though Billy had never noticed it, there was a certain amount of hero worship there.
A part of Bobby wanted nothing more than to grow up to be just like Billy.
A part of Bobby wanted nothing more than to grow up to be just like Billy.
“Bobby. It’s me.”
Hearing her speak seems to have a profound effect on his spirits, his voice breaking the usual prison monotone one must speak with to avoid showing any emotion or weakness.
“Hey, sis! Good to hear from ya, been a while.”
“Been busy. Y’know how that goes.”
“Yeah, yeah, of course, I’m just sayin’ is all... missed hearin' your voice.”
“Same. Things have been good in there? Still gettin’ all that canteen money?”
“For sure. You been real good to me while I been in here, Bill... that scumbag Bo won’t even take my goddamn calls.”
Hearing Bobby’s description of their eldest brother widens Billy’s smile. He really was a good kid, and a great judge of character.
“Well, funny ya should mention him... there’s been some problems lately. Bo finally got up the courage to move on me.”
A long silence, before an exasperated sigh comes from Bobby.
“Fuck. You’re alright, I’m guessin’?”
“Yeah. Was a close one, though. Not sure how I got out of it, if I’m bein’ honest, but I ain’t got a lotta time to talk... listen, he sent a couple of AB boys after me. I know they got a presence up there, so I need ya to watch your back. I don’t think Bo would be dumb enough to start purgin’ the family, but I can’t guarantee nothin’... not anymore.”
“Brotherhood, huh? Never did like those Nazi fucks. Anything I can do for ya from here?"
“Still tight with those boys from B-More?”
“Oh yeah. Real close. They’ve had my back a few times up here. And they still owe me for that other thing...”
“Good. Reach out to ‘em and tell ‘em I need a safe place to stay. I’ll get back in touch when I get a bit closer to Maryland, just make sure ya got something worked out by then. I ain’t fuckin’ kiddin’, Bobby. I love ya, but if ya screw me on this one, I’ll make sure I stay alive long enough to let ya know how disappointed I am when ya get outta there. Got me?”
Rather than sound intimidated, Bobby just chuckles at this, like there was something funny about Billy threatening his life. Something about prison had changed the kid, gave him a wickedly dark sense of humour that even Billy couldn’t fully wrap her head around.
“Don’t gotta threaten me, sis. It’ll all be set up when ya call back.”
“Thanks, bro. I’ll owe ya one.”
“More than one, Bill.”
It’s Billy’s turn to laugh; he’s not wrong, after all. There was an undeniable value to having a brother locked up on Rikers Island, able to make contacts that just weren’t possible out on the street.
She has no doubt that Bobby would prove integral in the days, weeks and months to come. If she was going to survive long enough to make a difference, she would need the contacts he’d made. Contacts that were loyal to Bobby alone; not Billy or Bo.
The perfect ace up her sleeve... if she could stay out of Bo’s sights long enough to put a few more pieces in place.
“Watch your back, kid. I need ya alive if I’m gonna have a chance.”
“Don’t worry ‘bout me, worry ‘bout yourself. Don’t know what I’d do if ya died before I got outta here. Been waitin’ years to give ya a hug.”
A *CLICK*, as Bobby hangs up his cellphone, somewhere on Rikers Island.
Billy hangs up the receiver and picks it up again, dialing another series of numbers before leaning back in the chair. She rubs the bridge of her nose, exhausted from driving to Texas without any sleep.
The phone rings a few times, and this time the voice that comes over the line isn’t one she’s happy to hear.
It’s Bo, answering the satellite phone that he kept on the compound to conduct business on rare occasions when it couldn’t wait for an in-person visit.
“What?”
“...”
Billy opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. She'd been waiting years for things between her and Bo to break down completely... and now that it had finally happened, she was at a complete loss for words.
Billy had practiced and perfected what she’d say to him, how to verbally tear him down and make him feel as weak and worthless as she knew he was.
And now that she finally had the opportunity, the words don’t come out.
“...who the fuck is this?”
Her brother’s annoyed tone seems to snap her back to reality, as a vicious scowl curls her lips downwards. This time, when she opens her mouth, her voice comes out seething with hatred.
“Hey, cocksucker.”
This time, it’s Bo’s turn to struggle for a response; a stunned silence hangs heavy over the phone line.
Finally, his voice comes through again; this time, he doesn’t sound annoyed... but dangerous, although it's hidden behind his usual fake-friendly veneer.
“Hey, Bill. How’d your fight go?”
Bo trying to play it off like he hadn’t sent two neo-Nazis to kill her only makes Billy more furious, and she rises out of the chair to slam one fist down onto the table in front of her.
“Listen up, boy, don’t talk to me like I’m a fuckin’ idiot... Aryan Brotherhood? Really? What’s the matter, couldn’t bring yourself to leave the job to some locals? Or did ya just not think ‘bout coverin’ your tracks, ya dumb fuck?”
Bo chuckles darkly, dropping the act.
“Good help is so hard to find these days, isn’t it? This is why we loved having you around, Bill. Could always rely on you to get a job done.”
“Oh, bet.”
“But you’re a liability now, girl. Nothing personal, it’s just best for the family. For business. But maybe we could talk about all this.”
“Save the politics for the negotiation table, I ain’t interested.”
“So... what do we do now, sis?”
“Glad ya asked, ‘cause I got some ideas ‘bout that. None of ‘em end real well for ya, though.”
“Tsk tsk. Don’t forget about Savannah. Wouldn’t want anything to happen to her, would you?”
There it was. She knew that was coming, but she was ready for it this time. He couldn't terrify her into compliance like that again; she was calling his bluff.
“Mmm. True. I love that girl more than I ever loved anything in this fucked-up world. And that's why I know you’re not gonna do shit to her.”
“Oh?” asks Bo, sounding genuinely curious as to why he shouldn’t go and kidnap Savannah Holt to use her as a bargaining chip.
“Lemme tell ya why ya ain't gonna touch her, since you’re obviously too stupid to figure it out yourself. Ya seen me at work, Bo. Y'know better than most what I’m capable of. Well, the things ya seen me do? Ain’t gonna be nothin’ compared to what'll happen to ya, if ya so much as look at Savannah wrong. You’ll be beggin’ to die, but I’ll keep ya alive... for years, if that’s how long it takes for ya to really regret it..."
"Y’hear me!?”
"Y’hear me!?”
Another lengthy pause from Bo, as Billy struggles to contain the rage she feels.
“...okay. I won’t touch your girlfriend, if that's how you feel. But that's the only concession I'll make. Don't come back here. Ya may have the name, but from this moment on... ya ain’t no Bennett. Believe me when I say that I’ll be getting the word out; without our protection, let’s see how long you survive. You've made a lot of enemies over the years.”
“Let ‘em try to touch me, I ain’t afraid. And I swear to God, if ya try and pull some sneaky shit... if anythin’ happens to Baxton, or Bobby in prison... well, then I’ll find out ‘bout it, and I’ll come pay ya a visit one night, ya motherfu-”
*CLICK*
He had hung up on her.
Billy’s fury can't be contained any longer; she turns around to put a fist through the drywall behind her. She pulls her hand back, before making a second hole. This goes on for a full minute; by the time she’s finished, the entire back wall of the bar’s private office is torn apart.
Her entire body is shaking, sweat pouring off her as she stands with fists clenched.
It takes her minutes to compose herself again. After some time, she feels calm enough to make the last call.
Perhaps the most important one.
Perhaps the most important one.
She picks up the receiver and puts it to her ear as she starts dialing. Rather than ringing a few times like it did when she made the previous two calls, the answer is immediate.
The voice on the other end is Savannah Holt, who sounds oddly tired. The depression is almost palpable, and it breaks Billy’s heart in a way she could never put into words. The Floridian scrunches her face up as she hears her only friend speak.
“...yeah? Hello...? Hello...?”
Biting her bottom lip hard enough to break the skin, it’s all Billy can do to fight back a sobbing fit. Tears flow from her eyes, knowing full well why Savannah sounds as miserable as she does. Billy knows it’s her fault, more than it is Savannah or Andrew’s.
She could’ve stopped it. She could have done something - anything - to spare her friend this fate.
But she failed... just another in a long series of fuck-ups in her life.
“Sav... it’s me. We gotta talk..."
====================
====================
MARCH 23rd, 2022
BALTIMORE, MD
Billy had stopped just outside of Baltimore to call Bobby again, who had set up a meeting between her and some people he had done a few favours for behind bars.
She needed a safe place to stay while she prepared for what she knew was coming. Some location her brother wouldn’t know about, in a place he had no allies; the gangs in Baltimore had done resisted the family’s advances, even striking back when the Bennetts tried to set up shop within the city.
The Floridian really had to hand it to the competition up here; they weren’t afraid of some folks from the swamp, no matter what their last name was.
Fortunately for her, Bobby had managed to get close to a few of the higher-ups while they were locked up on Rikers.
Fortunately for her, Bobby had managed to get close to a few of the higher-ups while they were locked up on Rikers.
That alliance might be what ends up saving her life.
Taken to an abandoned rowhouse deep in the gang’s territory, Billy handed over the cash she had on her for some supplies.
Guns to replace the ones she had left in her shack back at Deep Lake, including an M4A1 Carbine that rests on the table.
Some food, since she hadn’t eaten anything since leaving Laredo. There was a bag full of cheeseburgers sitting beside the firearms.
And drugs. A few bags of heroin and several large rocks of freebase cocaine lay on the table; along with a few pieces of paraphernalia.
Billy really couldn’t help herself; sure, she had won the Legacy Championship, killed Havoc, and asserted her dominance over Project: Honor.
But that wasn’t what was bothering her.
But that wasn’t what was bothering her.
There was too much to deal with. She was too stressed, at the end of her rope mentally and physically; hardly given a moment to rest and recuperate with everything going on around her.
She had too many problems, and too many enemies.
It had been her weakness since she was just a little girl; her personality caused most people to hate Billy Bennett within seconds of meeting her.
For a long time, that was exactly how she liked it. But now, it had all piled up too high.
There was no way around it; she had to start tackling some of these ‘issues’ head-on. Dealing with them, permanently or otherwise.
It was time to start crossing names off the list; Havoc was a good start, but he was just that... a start.
There were so many mistakes to fix, and people to punish for their crimes.
Billy stands facing one of the walls in the abandoned second-floor room. She's taped a series of pictures up, using green spray-paint to categorize the groups of photos.
The woman is staring at a picture of Havoc, green ‘X’s crossed over his eyes and the letters ‘R.I.P.’ above him.
The young woman speaks aloud in an otherwise empty room, addressing the photograph of her dead rival; her voice is full of regret.
“Ya might’ve been the only one worth a damn, Havoc. The only challenge I’ll ever face in this fuckin’ place...”
Balling up one hand into a fist, she slams it down onto her thigh in frustration; likely hard enough to leave a bruise.
“And now you’re gone.”
Her voice changes from a melancholic tone to one of blind anger; at herself, at Havoc, at everyone.
“WHY?! WHY DID YA LEAVE ME ALONE WITH THE REST OF THESE FUCKIN’ COWARDS?!?!”
And just as she reaches the end of that brief outburst, her voice cracks and she chokes back a sob. She looks away from the photograph of Havoc, her voice returning to its previous low tone.
“I coulda fought ya forever... and now it’s just me... so lonely... so bored...”
Shaking her head to try and dismiss such a depressing thought, Billy lifts her eyes back up to the pictures in front of her, eventually settling on Slade Castle; listed under ‘M.I.A.’
When she first joined up with True Society, she thought of him as the only other professional in the group. A weapon honed through his time in the Marine Corps; perhaps the only one she viewed as anything resembling an equal.
Turned out she was wrong.
The man cared entirely too much about the Noble Championship that she had ‘robbed’ him of. Slade was apparently unable to view it as a necessary evil, something she had to do to keep it within True Society.
Sure, Billy had lost control, rushing to make the first pin she could... but that’s just the way she was when thrown into a brawl. It wasn’t a conscious decision, just something that happened.
A deep sigh escapes her lips, as she turns to glance at the photo of Syndicate taped up beside Slade.
She stares into the man’s eyes, her breath growing shallow as all sorts of strange desires well up inside her chest.
Billy missed him. She really did.
For a long time, she wanted nothing more than to spend some one-on-one time with the man she viewed as the most capable fighter on the roster. His match against Elena DeDraca at Bloodbath was something she still thought about.
To Billy, a celebration of violence like that was better than any kind of pornography. It still kept her up some nights, when she got to thinking about it.
“Y’know, Sydney... I’d give up this stupid fuckin’ belt just for five minutes alone with ya...” she says in a breathy whisper, lifting one hand to her lips to nibble on the tip of her index finger... before dragging that digit down her chin, her neck, the front of her T-shirt, all the way to her stomach.
Her eyes shut for a moment, breathing growing quicker as she takes some time to fantasize about what she would do to Sydney if she got her hands on him... and what he might do to her.
Unfortunately, such a beautiful thought doesn’t have any place here; not when she has so much on her plate already.
It’s fine. She can save all that for the next time she meets her old pal.
Trying to push those daydreams out of her head, she moves her attention to Mark Hunter, his picture resting under a spray-painted ‘? ? ?’. Her eyes narrow as she considers the man she had completely misjudged.
“What’s your game, ol’ man...?” she mumbles to herself.
Billy had been too lost in the moment to see Mark standing by as she drowned Havoc; it wasn’t until she watched the tape that she noticed it.
There was some motive there that Billy couldn’t discern yet.
Rather than stand and ponder it for hours without any concrete conclusions, she moves on.
She scans the group labeled as ‘The Rest’.
Alyssa Grace’s picture brings a smile to her face, as Billy remembers the events of The Crowning; more specifically, taking the Ascension Championship that she had won only moments before.
It was a genuinely enjoyable memory.
It was a genuinely enjoyable memory.
And the next time Alyssa forgot her place and tried to rise above it?
Well, Billy Bennett would be there to slap her back down again. To remind the redhead that she was in Billy's company, and there wouldn’t be any glory for her here... not as long as she had anything to say about it.
Adam Ekaterin’s smug face wipes the smile off Billy’s lips, as soon as her eyes fall upon it; she thinks about how he still owes her for that debacle with the Noble Championship.
Sure, she would’ve happily dropped the belt just to steal Syndicate’s Universal Briefcase, but Billy was convinced that the rule was invented on the spot just to fuck with her.
And he hadn’t even returned any of her threatening phone messages.
Rude as fuck.
Lil Petey’s picture is only briefly considered by Billy, before she snorts loudly and spits a mouthful of yellow phlegm onto the photograph. It strikes the image of Petey directly between the eyes.
“Fuckin’ asshole...” she hisses between clenched teeth.
His ‘Fall of Society’ stipulation - designed with Billy losing the match in mind - had done an amazing job of turning the former object of her desire into someone she wanted to castrate with her bare hands.
It would probably be fine, as long as Petey stayed locked in his fucking office and didn’t ever try to approach Billy ever again.
Her eyes fall on another partial owner of Project: Honor. Indy Darling, wearing his cool sunglasses and looking like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.
Honestly, she had zero issues with the man on a personal level; he even seemed like he might be kind of cool to hang out with.
Honestly, she had zero issues with the man on a personal level; he even seemed like he might be kind of cool to hang out with.
But he’d been fucking with her boy Johnny Levy, so that meant he made the list.
She pauses on Jason Long momentarily, before scoffing in disdain at the image of that greasy prick.
"Should’ve stayed gone...”
Finally, her eyes fall upon a trio of pictures underneath the word ‘Priority’.
Mr. Wright.
Bo Bennett.
Andrew Holt.
All men who Billy knew would need to die - or otherwise be dealt with - before she could rest easy.
The mystery regarding Candi’s identity remained at the forefront of her mind. Considering the fact that she couldn’t go strolling back onto her family’s compound to ask more questions, or look through old photo albums for clues, that left only one way to solve the enigma.
A nice, long chat with Mr. Wright himself.
As for her eldest brother, she knew there could be no real deals or ceasefires with him. They had been on the edge of open conflict for years; it was inevitable, and there was no solution without one of them ending up dead.
Billy knew this uneasy truce they’d made over the phone was only going to be respected by Bo until he was ready to move against her again. And next time, she might not be so lucky.
But he had made a fatal error in expanding the business beyond the family’s usual territory. There were a lot of gangs and crews working with the Bennetts for whom ‘Bo Bennett’ was only a name, without a voice or face attached to it.
But Billy? Billy had met them all in her role as Bo's right hand. She had worked with them, doing jobs on the streets, training some of their soldiers, even going to block parties and celebrations.
If it came down to it, she was confident she could get some of them to side with her. It wasn’t much compared to the manpower her brother had, but it was a start... and if history had proven anything, it was that a small, dedicated group could triumph over an empire.
It wasn’t too far off from what she had already accomplished by seizing the Legacy Championship of Project: Honor. An underdog defeating a stronger force. She’d done it before; why not again?
And finally, she looks at Andrew Holt.
There are no words to describe what she feels towards him.
Rather than attempt to think about the pure disgust and hatred she feels for the man she used to take orders from, Billy turns away from the wall of photographs and stomps towards the table.
Reaching down, she grabs the glass pipe and a sizable piece of freebase. Stuffing it into the top of the pipe, she lifts the other end to her lips and pulls a Zippo lighter from her pocket.
A single flick brings the flame to life, as she holds it to the pipe. There’s a crackling noise, as the white rock melts away. Billy inhales slowly, savouring every second.
Pulling the pipe away, she closes her eyes as bells ring in her head; cold, icy hands encompass her brain, as every fear is washed away by a wave of confidence and energy.
Exhaling after almost a full minute, she stumbles - and almost collapses - as she places the pipe back onto the table.
It’s time to speak to an old enemy... and a potential new one.
With that in mind, she pulls a cigarette from the pack and lights it.
Snatching the audiocasette recorder off the table, she staggers towards the chair and falls into it, kicking her heavy boots off and settling her feet on the table in front of her.
Still puffing away at the cigarette, she does her best to collect her racing thoughts before pressing ‘REC’.
----------
“Heh...”
A laugh that sounds more like a dry cough.
“Looks like Billy Bennett never really needed True Society, huh? Seems to me like they were just holdin’ me back from takin’ what was mine.”
“Looks like Billy Bennett never really needed True Society, huh? Seems to me like they were just holdin’ me back from takin’ what was mine.”
“If we wanna talk about needin’ help, how about Havoc? First show after the entire thing came tumblin’ down, and his big fuckin’ mouth finally caught up with him... now he’s dead.”
“But I ain’t lookin’ to gloat too much. Not my style, y’know? I prefer to act.”
“So, down to business.”
A pause, as she takes another drag on the cigarette.
“Welcome back, Jason.”
“I’m sure ya noticed a few changes since ya were last here.”
“Let me be the first to introduce ya to the new era. New management, new champions, new direction. If ya thought it was safe to come back just ‘cause True Society ain’t lurkin’ in the shadows no more, lemme tell ya...”
“...that’s the biggest mistake ya ever made in your life.”
“Sure, Holt’s crew is done. Missing, married... dead.”
She chuckles darkly at that last word.
“But I'm still here. Without their dumb asses weighin’ me down, I took the Legacy Championship when nobody thought I had a damn chance.”
“And next? I’m gonna turn all of Project: Honor into my playground.”
“Ain’t nobody gonna be safe no more. Not on Fallout. Not on Proving Ground. Hell, I may stop in at Project Underground; fuck 'em if they can't take a joke."
"Nowhere to hide from Billy now.”
"Nowhere to hide from Billy now.”
“Bit of good news though, Jason; ya don’t need a buncha allies to fight all of us. Now, ya just gotta deal with me, all by my lonesome. I was even nice enough to scare Slade and Sydney away! And as for Havoc, well... he ain’t gonna be a problem no more.”
“You’re welcome, by the way. I’m sure you’re gonna forget to thank me for doin’ what you could never accomplish... but that’s fine, too. I ain’t expectin’ nothin' from an ungrateful son of a bitch like Jason Long.”
“Y’see, for all that talk of entities and dimensions and... whatever you’re ‘bout these days, you’re still just Jason to me.”
“Savannah tried to explain it all a few times, but it was so borin’ that I damn near fell asleep.”
“I ain’t interested in all that, so let’s keep it simple.”
“There’s plenty I’m way more curious ‘bout, anyway.”
“For instance, that whole ‘King of Immortality’ thing. Never did get a chance to put it to the test myself. Not before ya disappeared into thin air, runnin’ off to wherever-the-fuck with your shriveled li’l dick tucked between your legs.”
“Ain’t much I hate more than a man leavin’ me before I’m able to finish with ‘em. Awfully frustratin', but I can hardly blame ya for gettin’ out while ya could. I seem to have that effect on people.”
“Don’t matter; ‘cause now you’re back.”
“I love a second chance. And this time, I’ll be able to give ya the attention ya deserve.”
“That’s right. Deserve. I mean that, ‘cause no matter how pathetic ya are these days, ya were great once. Just sorry I couldn’t have met ya back then... I think we coulda had a mighty fine time together in your prime.”
“But now? Now you’re just a relic, worn out at such a young age. What a depressin’ end to a man who used to be so full of potential.”
“Still, I think I owe ya a bit of thanks. Ya might not know it, but ya played a big part in the story of Billy Bennett. Beatin’ ya and Sawyer clean like I did... it showed everyone here what I was capable of.”
“The beginnin’ of my legend... the start of my legacy.”
“But make no mistake, y’all were just the first - and smallest - step on my journey. Ya really think ya got any chance of endin’ me? Jason fuckin’ Long?!”
A loud bark of laughter escapes her lips.
“Don’t make me laugh, boy. You’re a bad joke; a fuckin’ pillar of the industry, crumbled to dust."
"Gone too soon.”
"Gone too soon.”
“Oh, you’ll be missed. Couldn’t say the same for myself. People love ya like they could never love Billy, no matter how many times ya reinvent yourself."
“They can’t get enough of ya; ain’t that right?”
“Too bad that don’t mean a damn thing to me. Ya know it don’t. I’ll treat ya like ya deserve to be treated... and trust me, I won’t be gentle.”
“‘Cause at the end of the day, I’m sick of sittin’ ‘round and hearin’ ya talk all that shit. It’d be one thing if ya could back any of it up, but it’s obvious ya just ain’t up to the task.”
“I remember ya said a buncha stuff ‘bout endin’ my whole damn bloodline if I crossed ya again. I can’t quite recall the specifics, probably tuned ya out after a while; it’s all so fuckin’ tiresome.”
Billy clicks her tongue, her voice sounding so very disappointed with Jason as she continues.
“Anyway, that’s when I knew ya were all talk, and no action. I got so excited hearin’ that; I would lay awake at night, starin’ at the ceilin’, my whole body tinglin' with anticipation... just waitin’ for ya to pull up to the compound and follow through on all ‘em words.”
“But ya never came, Jason.”
“Y’see, for all your swagger, I know you’re afraid of me. When ya had the opportunity to set the matches on Fallout, ya put yourself in the main event with a buncha losers; and ya made sure me, Havoc and Sydney were busy tearin’ out each other’s throats, so ya could feel safe for one night in your entire life.”
“It ain’t just me that said all this. Even Havoc was disgusted with what you've become. Even he knew I was capable of doin’ what you never could. And he was right, though I bet that weren’t no comfort in his final moments.”
“Ooops. My bad.”
“Guess I never did say ‘sorry’ for that.”
“I don't plan on it, either.”
“Anyway, the way I see it this is your chance to prove to the world ya ain’t washed-up."
"Ain't just a broken shell, with the biggest ego in the business."
"Walkin’ ‘round callin’ yourself a ‘King’, hopin’ that everyone believes the lie. Well, I don’t recall askin’ nobody to call me a ‘Queen’, but they sure do treat me like royalty. Shuttin’ up when I walk by, doin' what I say, nobody darin’ to cross me.”
"Ain't just a broken shell, with the biggest ego in the business."
"Walkin’ ‘round callin’ yourself a ‘King’, hopin’ that everyone believes the lie. Well, I don’t recall askin’ nobody to call me a ‘Queen’, but they sure do treat me like royalty. Shuttin’ up when I walk by, doin' what I say, nobody darin’ to cross me.”
“Can’t blame ‘em, since they’ve all seen what I do to people who fuck around.”
“It ain’t even that I wanna hurt ya, boy. Don’t get me wrong, I do; but it’s more than that.”
“After everythin’ that girl has done for me...”
A small sniffling sound is briefly heard.
“I owe it to Sav to tear ya to pieces. And, maaaaan, it’s gonna be bad. Ya got no idea how many hours I spent thinkin’ ‘bout what I’d do to ya next time we met.”
“Might’ve failed her by lettin’ Holt snatch her up, but maybe I can make up for a bit of it by takin’ ya apart. I’m good at that, after all.”
A deep sigh.
“So, I’ll be dedicatin’ this match to Savannah Andrews. This is for her, and everything I do to ya in that ring is gonna be payback for what ya done to that girl and her family. Might be all I can do, but it’s somethin’.”
“She was there for me, when I didn’t even know how badly I needed someone. When I thought I was nothin’ more than an animal, she showed me I was more than that.”
“Now it’s time to show her how much it all meant to me; and I’m gonna do that by makin’ ya scream and cry and apologize where everyone can hear.”
“Hmmm...”
“All that bein’ said, I’m feelin’ generous lately... and the roster is lookin’ a bit thin on Fallout, so I don’t wanna frighten ya off again, or do to ya what I did to Havoc.”
“Not yet, anyway.”
“Ya got one last chance to show me ya deserve a spot in this company. So be a man, for once in your fuckin' life.”
“’Cause if ya disappoint me again, it’s on sight from that point forward.”
“Not just in the ring; if I catch ya anywhere... backstage, the parkin’ lot, walkin’ down your fuckin’ block back on that shithole island ya call home... I can promise ya this much, it’s gonna be worse than anythin’ ya ever been through before.”
“Bet on it.”
“I just wonder what it’s gonna do to your image when the big, bad, all-powerful N. Titty gets their ass beat by the girl everyone so affectionately calls a ‘weird crackhead bitch’, or whatever the insult of the week is.”
“Guess we’ll find out soon, won’t we?”
“I’ll leave ya with one final warnin’. I already killed a king this month; a man who was better than ya could ever hope to be. See, Havoc could back his shit up. He beat me, when ya ain’t got a hope in hell of comin' close.”
“Might wanna humble yourself before I do it, ‘cause accordin’ to my track record, me showin’ ya where ya really belong in the peckin’ order can be hazardous to your health.”
Billy laughs again; long and loud as the cassette recorder picks up the sound of her flicking the Zippo to take another hit off the pipe.
She exhales, followed by a small moan of ecstasy as she lets the dopamine course through her brain. When she begins to speak again, her voice is hushed, relaxed, and completely content.
“But onto someone a bit more fun.”
“A fresh face on Fallout, comin’ from the same sorta darkness I crawled outta.”
“Someone more interested in violence than talkin’ shit like the rest of those fools in the locker room.”
“A real warrior. Might even be a future legend in the makin’; who can tell?”
“Tate. This is, what, your third match? And you’re already in the main event, up against two icons.”
“The current Legacy Champion and the most vicious bitch Project: Honor has ever seen... and Jason Long, the first Fallout Triple Crown. Someone who might even have a few good matches left in him.”
“Ought to be mighty proud of yourself, makin’ it this far this fast. Some people have been stuck under the glass ceilin’ for a long time, ‘cause they ain’t good enough to make it to where the real monsters play.”
“But that ain’t Tate Selby, is it?”
“Naw, you’re better than that. Knew it the moment I saw ya fightin’ Hyde. I been keepin’ my eyes on that man for a while now; saw a lotta potential in him.”
“And ya managed to come out of nowhere and beat him. Not the cleanest win, but who cares 'bout all that?”
Billy actually claps to show her appreciation of such a feat.
“Listened to some of what ya had to say before your last matches, and it was almost like hearin’ myself talk. Oh, not the accent, or the words themselves; nothin’ that specific.”
“But we come from the same place, my man. I’m real good at spottin’ damaged goods, and it’s pretty fuckin’ obvious to me we got plenty in common there... a lot more than I do with anyone else backstage.”
“Let me talk to ya, as one fucked-up mess to another.”
“I hope ya ain’t feelin’ too sad ‘bout whatever happened in your life to make ya this way, Tate. Sure, the memories hurt... I know that better than anyone. Didn't get so deep into this shit for no reason, after all.”
“But it ain’t all bad, buddy.”
“All that pain, all that trauma, whatever it was... it made ya strong. Stronger than most of these soft fucks, walkin’ through life without any idea of what waits in the fuckin’ shadows.”
“But we know all ‘bout that, don’t we? Too well, maybe.”
“We're kindred spirits, even if ya don’t wanna believe it. Y’see, ya ain’t special, ya ain’t unique... but ya ain’t alone either. There’s people like me, who been through the same shit.”
“I'm sayin' this 'cause I care. I hope ya can take my word for it, but I know that ya might find it hard to put your trust in anyone.”
“Can’t say you’re wrong, there. The fewer people ya trust, the fewer people can hurt ya.”
“Which is why I been wonderin’ ‘bout that Eddie fella. He don’t seem like the type to know where you’re comin’ from. In fact, I can guarantee he’s only gonna hurt ya eventually. But I think ya already know that though, don'tcha?”
“Probably feels good to have someone ya can feel ya can rely on. That's nice and all, but you’re wrong. People like us can’t rely on nobody in this life. That's just a fact."
“We ain’t meant to have friends, or mentors... maybe not even family.”
“I dunno what happened to that bro and sis of yours, but take it from me... sometimes even siblings can turn on ya.”
“Better off alone, I can guarantee that.”
“Don’t run from the past. Embrace it. Use all that hate, all that anger, to push yourself harder and further than the rest of ‘em.”
“I’ll go ahead and take a guess here... the only time things feel right is when you’re beatin’ the life outta some poor fool. Probably the only time ya really feel alive.”
“Well, I can relate to that, too. And I just want ya to know, you’ve come to the right place. Fallout is my home away from home; best job I ever had, that’s for damn sure.”
“So just consider me the welcomin’ committee. Here to shake your hand and show ya how we really do things here."
"I can promise ya a good time.”
"I can promise ya a good time.”
“Anyway, I probably done enough talkin’ to ya... honestly, ya don’t strike me as the type who has much interest in words.”
“Works just fine for me; I can talk shit with the best of ‘em, but I’m way more comfortable lettin’ my hands do the talkin’.”
“Y’know, part of me wishes I could have had either of ya boys alone in that ring, instead of this damn triple threat; even if it does work to my advantage, as usual. Hell, I might even be inclined to put my Legacy belt on the line if I could fight one of ya solo.”
She snaps her fingers, hard and loud.
“Then it struck me. Neither of ya earned a shot at that yet. But hey, don’t worry, I’ll be in the trenches defendin’ my spot on the regular. More than any of the other fuckers who held this strap.”
“So, if ya do well in this match, who’s to say what the future might hold for ya? And sooner than ya might think.”
A brief giggle escapes her lips, followed by a low, long whistle.
“I’m sure we’ll get a chance to play one-on-one reaaaaal soon. If ya manage to survive.”
----------
Now that she’s said her piece, she hits the ‘STOP’ button and tosses the audiocasette recorder onto the table.
Just her and silence now; deep and oppressive, the room in complete darkness as she sits and lights a fresh cigarette.
Every sense is tuned into the slightest noise, with nerves on fire and every muscle coiled; she's ready to burst into action at a moments’ notice.
Billy didn’t anticipate trouble; if Bobby said these folks were trustworthy, she had no reason to doubt. It was simply impossible for her to control the adrenaline and effects of the drugs she’d been taking. Even without those, this was when she was most comfortable.
On the edge, surrounded by threats, with no real way out of it. It was when she’d done some of her best work.
And it was always a good time.
She stared at the photos on the wall. Her life had always been dangerous, but nowadays just going about her day was like navigating a minefield.
For some reason, the thought doesn’t worry her as much as it should. Slowly, a grin creeps onto her face, dilated eyes glittering even in the dark room as she stares at the faces of her enemies.
“...always did love a challenge.”
====================
