Page 120

“We all stumble sometimes. Well,” Corey added airily, preening a little and smoothing back his hair. “Most people.”

“I seem to recall you taking a while to get the fireman’s carry slam when you were up against Brian the other week, Crossbody,” Hogbody piped up, raising his brow.

Crossbody gritted his teeth, stiffening up again. “Only because he weighs—”

“There are never excuses,” Corey interrupted loudly, then sighed and shook his head as he looked around with a disappointed expression that made us all want to lower our gazes. “These excuses. This tension. All the changes happening.” He sighed again and placed a hand on his hip. “I think it might be time to hold court soon.”

Gabe had wandered in at some point and was over by the counter making a protein shake. When he heard what Corey said, he turned with an excited expression. “Oooooh.”

Vince huffed irritably and crossed his arms. Whatever his problem with Crossbody was, he definitely wouldn’t want it aired out in the wrestlers’ court.

We didn’t have to hold it too often, but it was a way for us to share grievances or any issues we were having, discuss big changes and squash beef. Not that we ever had much beef between us—mostly, we all got along well. But Corey was right—Vince and Crossbody’s feud was getting a little out of hand, their jabs and snide remarks and bickering matches happening more frequently.

Corey, obviously, presided over the court as judge, but it was rare that he made decisions any of us disagreed with.

If he tried to mediate between Crossbody and Vince, though… I couldn’t see either of them backing down. Let alone apologising and letting it go. They were both too proud in their own ways. And wildly competitive.

But if it was starting to affect Vince’s performances…

“That might be a good idea,” I said cautiously.

Vince grunted beside me and muttered, “Traitor.”

“We haven’t had one in a while,” Gabe said, wandering over. “We could use it to discuss anything we might want to achieve now that the audience is growing through the pay-per-view. You know, like a team,” he added brightly.

Vince stayed silent as Crossbody let out a delicate snort and crossed his arms.

“Yes.” Corey snapped his fingers and pointed at Gabe in agreement. “Motivation. Goals. Dreams. We need to set targets. This is our platform to shine as bright as we can, not waste our valuable time bickering like bratty children.”

Vince and Crossbody scowled at each other. I squeezed Vince’s shoulder and muttered to him, “Look, you know you should—”

Movement out of the corner of my eye made me pause and glance over at the windows that looked down onto the arena. I stiffened when I saw Frank and Beans clinging onto the cage that dangled over the ring. How the fuck they’d got up there, I had no idea.

Frank was jerking back and forth ferociously, like he was trying to make the huge cage swing. Or come loose. But Beans was just staring at me with horrifyingly blank eyes. He didn’t look away even when Frank climbed right over him to get higher, using his head as a foothold.

“I want to talk about something at court too,” I said quickly, narrowing my eyes at Beans before reluctantly looking away and back at Corey. “Frank and Beans are targeting me. They keep trying to steal my head. Holt’s spoken to them, he even took away their air hockey table, but they still keep…” I shuddered. “Watching me all the time.”

“Yes, I heard about the air hockey table situation,” Corey murmured, raising his brows meaningfully. He gave me an imperious nod. “Of course, Dan. We can’t have you worrying. I’ll start getting things in order,” he added loudly, raising his chin. “We’ll hold court soon. Tell the others. I’ll inform Holt.”

With that, he turned and swept back out of the room. I glanced warily at Vince, noticing he now just looked mildly pissed off but mostly exasperated.

Gabe wandered off to sit beside Kenneth on the couch. Mads and Heidi started working out again, talking quietly to each other. Crossbody shot us one last irate look before striding for the door.

The moment he was gone, Vince exhaled and stretched out his neck. “Let’s keep going.”

“Of course you’re going to keep fucking going.” Hogbody snorted irritably, cigar clamped between his teeth. “There’s no other fucking option. Start over. These goddamn baby wrestlers,” he then muttered to himself with a sneer, shaking his head. “Just a bunch of—”

We all stopped and looked at him. Hogbody faltered, glancing over at Heidi warily.

“Non-gender-specific shitheads,” he finished.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Dan Is, Like, Feeling Things?

Dan

By Sunday night, I was exhausted.