Lass Ride: Crossroads

Chapter 3

It wasn't a unanimous decision, but the group ultimately decided to stay in the same rental for the duration of the three events. Bayley and Seth had been outvoted, and neither Charlotte nor Roman felt that Hunter would be so brazen as to attack them in public. "We all have houses, you know," Seth had protested. "What if he goes to those?"

Roman stared him down. "Hunter doesn't know where I live anymore. Same goes for the Horsewomen. He would have your address on file and Renee's, maybe Dean's by association, but I really don't think Vince would want the publicity of potentially damaging a neighbourhood and harming innocent bystanders. There are some things you just can't spin into a story."

It made everyone hyper vigilant at the next event, though, and even Roman caved, renting a large passenger van for them to take. They all missed the freedom of their bikes, both in terms of the open air and the autonomy, but they knew some things had to be sacrificed for comfort. "Safety in numbers, right?" Charlotte said as she hopped out at the arena. "That's what got us this far." Then she pierced Seth with a cold glare. "Well, most of us."

As Becky walked past them both, she could feel Seth's gaze on her, as if expecting her to come to his defence. She usually did, if only because she couldn't stand all the simmering animosity, but she just didn't have it in her today. Even Roman looked surprised at that, so she sped up and walked past them all, heading straight for the women's locker room. This independent league didn't have many full-time female wrestlers at all, so they were happy to make accommodations for the Four Horsewomen. It also meant the few women who were there were beyond delighted to see them. "Oh. My. God! BECKY!" a young woman with bright green braids exclaimed, nearly tripping over her own boots.

"Look at her butt?" Becky quipped weakly. The song probably pre-dated the woman, though, and Becky wasn't surprised when she didn't get the reference. "Hi. Charlotte and Sasha and Bayley are on their way," she promised. She knew the Four Horsewomen were a package deal these days, and she wasn't the one most people got excited about seeing.

But this time the woman came up and clasped her hands. "I don't care! I mean, I do; they're great. But I'm such a fan. My older sister wrestled a few matches against you up in Canada and she was always saying how amazing you were." Then she pointed awkwardly at her bag. "I know you're probably so sick of taking selfies since leaving WWE, but would you mind? My sister will never believe me otherwise."

"Sure. No prob." Becky happily posed with the woman and struck up a conversation about her sister. By the time the other Horsewomen arrived, she had learned the other woman's name—Ariel, ring name Siren—and about her family, her pets, and her dream to reach WWE. "You'll be wanting to talk to these ladies about that too," Becky said, pointing to her friends. "We all had really different paths, so it's good to know there's not just one way."

"Thank you so much, Becky!" Ariel gushed, dashing over to greet Charlotte, Sasha, and Bayley in turn. Other local female wrestlers shuffled in and out, chatting and getting their pictures taken with the Horsewomen, and Becky had to quietly sneak out to get some water.

The promotion didn't have a Catering area so much as a cluster of tables, one with plastic-wrapped cases of bottled water and the others with an assortment of fruit, pastries, and prepared sandwiches that looked like they were bought at a warehouse store in bulk. After snagging a bottle of water and some fruit, she started to wander around. It was a small venue—not quite a bingo ball, but definitely not a full-fledged arena—but she wanted to get a sense of the exits and hiding places. Most of the corridors were cluttered with the things that had been moved out of the exhibition space to make room for the ring and the seating: hockey sideboards, basketball hoops, a rickety-looking dais.

Down one of the further corridors—close to the exits so the bosses could make a quick getaway, she guessed—were the executive offices. He was at the other end, so Becky wasn't entirely sure, but she thought she recognized one of the men talking. Aaron had run promotions on and off for the better part of twenty years, both in North America and Europe. He always billed himself as an alternative to the big guys, but had no qualms about copying the big guys' concepts that worked. Being quite tall, he normally tried to use his height to intimidate anyone he was speaking with, but this time the other party was just as tall and definitely more broad and—