Chapter 22
I can’t help but flinch when Grady kicks Bennett’s ankle over and over again, until finally Bennett frees himself, stumbling to the ring apron.
Raelynn joins the crowd when they boo as Grady begins to climb the ladder he’d set up earlier.
“Are you supposed to do that?” I ask.
“Normally? No, but this is Grady,” she says, looking over at me with a wink.
Raelynn convinced me to join her out in the audience to watch the main event.
Apparently, wrestlers do it all the time, because, believe it or not, they are some of the biggest fans you’ll meet, and they like to soak in the atmosphere on the other side of the curtain.
A few people pointed as we walked out from backstage toward the control booth, where the camera is positioned, but I was surprised no one made a bigger commotion.
“What is he doing?” I ask when Bennett begins to climb the other side of the ladder.
He didn’t say anything about a ladder spot.
I glance up at the large screen above the entrance ramp, giving me an unobstructed view of the chaos going on inside the cage.
Bennett and Grady trade punches from opposite sides of the ladder, and the latest one sends Bennett swinging to the side, hanging on by a thread, before he pulls himself back.
The screen switches to a wide shot from the opposite side of the ring, where Ryker is back on his feet and pushes the ladder over.
A collective gasp fills the arena, and my heart sinks as we all watch Bennett fall.
His ankle is caught between one of the rungs of the ladder, but the rest of him lands with a hard thud against the floor.
My stomach sinks hearing his cries of pain, and he clutches his left leg, the same one he injured last year. This cannot be happening.
Colin freezes, realizing something isn’t right. He leans through the ropes, talking to the referee, who shakes his head.
“Shit,” Raelynn mumbles from beside me.
“Rae, what’s happening?” I ask, unable to tear my eyes away from the screen.
I don’t think we’re watching the characters anymore as Colin quickly slides out of the ring, forcing Grady into the opposite corner of the cage, as far away from Bennett as possible.
The end happens in a flash, and before I know it, the bell rings.
Colin Ryker is still the EWE Champion, but no one seems to care.
All eyes are on Bennett as the referees on the outside work to unlock the door, rushing inside to check on him.
At this point, I don’t know if this is a work—a preplanned, fake injury—or if he’s actually hurt.
One of the new referees throws his hands up in an X motion, and I don’t even have to look at Raelynn to know this is real.
Within seconds, a medical team rushes out from the back, and the whole arena watches as they help Bennett limp to the back.
“Let’s go,” Raelynn says, tugging on my arm.
When we make it backstage, Savannah is waiting by the entrance, and she seems genuinely concerned, wasting no time in guiding me to medical.
The whole time, the air in my chest feels too thick, and there’s an icy pit in place of my stomach.
This was exactly what we’d been trying to avoid, and all it took was one wrong, unplanned move for things to go to hell.
I knock on the door, and it feels like an eternity before it finally opens.
Noah peeks through the crack in the door, then opens it wide enough for me to enter.
An icy grip tightens around my heart when I step inside, and the CCO finally moves out of my line of vision.
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. There, in the middle of the room, Bennett James stands on both feet, shaking hands with the same doctor who’d been checking on him inside the ring.
And the look of excruciating pain that I’d seen on his face?
Nowhere in sight. He laughs at something the doctor says before his gaze wanders to mine.
A different smile spreads across his lips, but it fades quickly when I don’t return it.
Excusing himself, Ben crosses the room without so much as a limp.
“You’re not hurt?” There’s more venom behind my words than either one of us anticipates, and he recoils. “Bennett, you let me think—”
“I’m sorry,” he cuts me off. “No one could know.”
“No one could—I’m your fucking girlfriend!” The outburst catches everyone’s attention in the room.
He sighs, pulling me toward the back of the room, away from the others. “Sloane, I’m—”
“You should have told me! What was I supposed to think when I’m watching your match, and it looks like you blew your fucking leg out? You should have warned me. Otherwise, how am I supposed to know you’re not seriously injured?”
“I’m afraid that was my fault,” Noah interjects. He clears his throat and offers me a sympathetic smile that pisses me off even more. “I asked Wolf not to say anything because we couldn’t risk anyone who didn’t need to know finding out.”
Who didn’t need to know? I should’ve been the first person he told.
Did Ben not trust me to keep this a secret?
Did they think I wouldn’t be able to sell the moment properly if I knew the truth?
They had to make sure I seemed upset enough so everyone believed it was true?
What kind of fucked-up thought process is that?
The adrenaline still pumps through my veins, the thought of him being seriously injured making me sick to my stomach.
Even though he’s standing right in front of me—completely fine, standing on his own two feet, uninjured—the rest of my body hasn’t caught up to the information my brain knows is true.
I take a deep breath, my gaze drifting from my boyfriend to Noah. “So, what now?” I ask him.
“This is setting up for a match between Wolf and Grady at Beachbash.”
Oh, so Grady was in on it, too? Even he got to know, but not me?
Before I can get too angry, Noah continues, “Ryker knows because we couldn’t let him think he genuinely hurt Wolf, but Grady doesn’t know yet.
And for the next few weeks, very few people will.
Wolf will be ‘injured’ until he makes his surprise return in Boston.
Doc will get his leg wrapped, and he’ll go out to the bus on crutches.
Anytime he goes out of the house for the next month, he’ll have to use crutches and a boot. ”
“You mean this isn’t some stupid thing for the show? He has to pretend to be injured in our everyday lives?”
Ben reaches for my hand. “Sloane—”
“This is asinine,” I say, stepping out of his grasp, and he sighs. “What? It is. You’re not just doing some gimmick at work. This is real life. You’re going to be walking around on crutches and wearing a boot, for God’s sake. Ben, this goes beyond—”
“Enough.” The tone of his voice reminds me of that night in gorilla last week. Noah takes a polite step away from the situation, and Ben exhales, rubbing the space between his brows. “This is my job, Sloane. I know you don’t like the way things are handled sometimes, but—”
“Because it’s stupid. Your job is fucking stupid,” I say, and walk out without waiting for a reply.
I don’t want to have this conversation in front of everyone important in this fucking company.
I don’t want to see his face when I just called the one thing he loves stupid.
I don’t want to feel guilty when he’s the one who let me think he was hurt—no warning, no wink, wink, nudge, nudge.
I walk all the way down the hall, turn left, and fall back against the wall. Pushing my hands through my hair, I let out the breath I’ve been holding. “What the fuck?”
I hear footsteps around the corner, and I can only assume it’s Ben coming to scold me, because I shouldn’t have said that in front of his bosses. The voice I hear instead isn’t as deep as the one I expect. “How’s he doing?”
A humorless chuckle escapes me. This is the one man not inside that room who I can almost guarantee knew the truth, and he has the audacity to ask me how Ben is doing?
“Did you know?” I ask, looking up to see Brooks standing only a few feet away.
He crosses his arms. “I guess that depends on what you’re referring to.”
“Oh, stop the bullshit, Brooks,” I snap, and a smile tugs on his lips. “Of course, you knew what was going on. Did Savannah know, too?”
“No,” he says.
“You didn’t even tell your wife? One of his best friends?”
“She didn’t need to know.”
I scoff. “Do you hear yourself right now? This is insane, Brooks! What kind of people are you? You don’t hide shit like this from—”
“I haven’t told Savannah because I haven’t seen her.
I just found out today, too. Noah told me not long before it happened, right after I came back from my match.
If I had seen her, then yes, I would’ve said something, and in turn, she would’ve told you when you got backstage.
Look, Sloane, I know you don’t want to hear this, but we work in a business that relies on secrecy.
Sometimes, that means occasionally withholding certain information from those we love—”
“So, lying to them.”
“—and it can be a delicate balance. We don’t lie, Sloane.
We tell a story. If anyone can understand doing what it takes to get the story, I think it’s you.
” His brow quirks, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was implying something.
Is he implying something? Does Brooks know the truth about me?
He can’t. Can he? The story isn’t why I’m here now—at least, not completely.
I’d be a liar to say it’s not part of the reason, because I should’ve called Barry the second Ben said those three little words…
Instead, I got up the next morning and made a completely different phone call to Troy Prescott.
I’m sorry, Troy Addison. When he refused to help me get the information I needed, I let him know just how much I know about him, and that I’d have no problem taking his carefully constructed lie and dismantling it for my next story.