Las Vegas, Nevada - Vdara Dog Park
Present DayKristjan had been described as many things and in many ways throughout his relatively short life of thirty years; temperamental. An asshole. Drinker extraordinaire. Judgmental. In some rare cases, caring. But the one thing that has never been disputed amongst those who know him best was the simple fact that he was a creature of habit. He did not like change - at all. He would stick to his daily routines no matter what the weather was like or where he just so happened to be at the time throughout his travels for both MMA as well as his current path of professional wrestling. He was his own harshest critic (another trait friends and family would observe and agree on), and as such, he pushed himself harder than anyone ever realized. He was a literal beast when it came to his training, believing that if he wanted to be and remain the best, then he had to push himself far beyond the scope of normal comprehension. He had been found at the gym when under the weather and forced out to prevent spreading a cold or flu bug, but he simply went back to his own place at Turnberry Towers and resumed his workout as best he could before collapsing in bed to rest and recover. He could be out drinking until the wee hours of the morning while on tour and still be up at the crack of dawn for his morning run, usually dragging along several SCW Superstars whether they wanted to go or not.
In fact, that was just so how we managed to find the “White Wolf” this time around. It was just nearing the hour of six in the morning when the world around them was coming alive yet on the famed Vegas Strip, life continued on. And while the lights from the Strip cast their brilliance on the sky so very high above, further away the sun was just beginning to rise up over the horizon, helping to color the heavenly clouds in an array of colors before it would fully shine its brilliance over one and all for another day in the “City of Sin”. And as was his usual norm, Kristjan had rolled out of bed the moment his alarm went off. Followed closely by his ever dutiful and loving canine companion Kyssa, Kristjan went through his morning routine like clockwork, making his way to the kitchen to turn on the hot tea (never coffee!) and then showered under cold water only to help shock his system to a fully awake status, and grabbed a cup of tea while he went to knock on his brother’s bedroom door.
Aron was the one person who had grown used to his brother’s habits and complained little if at all. And why not? He’s had literally years to grow used to being awakened so early, each and every day, to join Kristjan on the usual run. Others that had entered their respective lives, for good or ill, were not so lucky. Just ask names such as Dani Weston, Ben Jordan and Bobbie Dahl what it was like to be on the road with this ‘madman’ (as Ben would refer to him as) and hearing that expected but undesired knock on their hotel room door at god knows when. One might just imagine they or anyone else would simply tell Kristjan where to go, shut the door and collapse back into bed, embracing their pillows as they drifted back off into dreamland. Only, Kristjan was not the one to so easily take no for an answer and before they knew it, they’d be right there with him, keeping up the pace (or trying to). Kristjan’s workouts were very important to him and he did what he could to impose that same principle on those he was close to so they, like he, would be at their very best.
That was where we found the Baltasarsson brothers and Kyssa in the here and now. There was a large dog park closest to their home at the Towers that served its perfect purpose for both the usual morning run as well as to get Kyssa out of the condo and into the fresh air for some exercise and perhaps even a little play time. Kristjan would take her to the park usually three times a day if he had no previous commitments related to his work; the morning run. Once more in the early afternoon for a simple walk and so that he might stand back like a proud papa and watch as she socialized with the other ‘pet parents’ that brought their fur babies to the park for the same reasons of fresh air and exercise. Kristjan was not the sociable sort, but the same could not be said for Kyssa who was a magnet for affection and attention alike. Then the final visit of the day would be later in the evening, after dinner, and just as night was beginning to descend. It was Kristjan’s favorite time of the day. It always had been and he liked to bring Kyssa to the park where the crisp, evening air would relax and calm, allowing anything trying to the senses that happened during the day to simply be brushed aside so much like the wind.
But it was morning now, and the brothers were not so much alone in the park as sometimes they had come to be expected. There were a scattered few others in the park with their dogs; an elderly woman walking her little Corgi. Visitors to Las Vegas from the nearby Strip taking advantage of the park’s general location to let their dogs stretch their legs and hopefully burn off some excess energy from being cooped up in a hotel room. And the Baltasarsson brothers - and Kyssa - jogging at a healthy pace around the park’s borders. Their exposed upper bodies glistened from the good sweat they worked up as they ran, Kyssa running at their side, her leash loosely clenched in her master’s fingers. Normally Kristjan abhorred the use of a leash on his girl, even for walks, but the rule was in place at the park for the safety of the animal and others around them. Not all animals were as well behaved as Kyssa, after all. Neither brother wore a shirt, knowing the sweat that would be worked up it seemed rather pointless. While they both normally wore latex workout shorts or pants while at the gym, they both wore loose fitted shorts for their morning runs to better allow freedom of movement as their shoes continued to pound the pavement.
“Hold up. Stop.” Aron called in a raspy voice, bringing Kristjan to an unsought stop. “Break.” he said once more for emphasis as Kristjan turned around to look at Aron who was bent over, hands on his knees and working to catch his breath.
Kristjan rolled his eyes as he approached where he had left Aron behind by a scant few feet, shaking his head and observing, “How is it that I’M the one that’s been laid up the past three months and yet YOU’RE the one standing there, trying to catch his breath?” He said, noticing much to his amusement how the previously mentioned elderly woman seated on a bench a few yards away had her eyes on Aron’s bent over backside. He failed to mention anything of this to his brother - both for his own personal hilarity and so as not to spoil the older woman’s good time.
“You’re working yourself into the ground, K.” Aron said, the brothers’ usual habit of using their native tongue of Icelandic when they were out and about, just the two of them. He slowly stood in an upright position, Kristjan taking note of the disappointed expression on the old woman’s face as he did so. Aron went on to state, “Or at the very least, me.”
Kristjan rolled his eyes as he expertly unfastened Kyssa’s leash with one hand, allowing her to step into the freshly mown grass and just fall over, wriggling her body as she was wont to do for one reason or another. The elderly woman’s eyes fell to Kyssa and a warm smile crossed her face and Kyssa took note of this, rolling back to her belly and pushing herself up as she walked over to the bench where she sat. Kyssa flopped her jaw on the side of the bench and stared up at the woman with that expertly rehearsed woeful eyes routine, and soon enough she was being rewarded by arthritic hands running through her fur. The Corgi snuffed its displeasure at another dog getting attention from its owner and thus turned its attention to a nearby bush as something had attracted the little dog’s senses.
“Are you sure this is wise?” Aron asked as he slipped the small towel from his belt and used it to dab at his forehead with his older brother following his example. The salt from the sweat that they were both building up was just beginning to trickle down toward their eyes before it stung something severe. Kristjan frowned at Aron’s assessment, seeing nothing out of the ordinary with what he was doing.
“Why?” He reached back, rubbing the back of his head and long, sweat soaked hair with the towel before slinging it over his muscled shoulder. “We’re not doing anything different than we already do.”
“Well that’s not entirely true.” Aron pointed out as he had a seat on the edge of the marble framework that was the border for some of the park’s grown greenery. Plants with colorful buds and pleasing aromas. “This is your first match in three months. It’s against Vinnie and you’re treating it like it’s for the championship. More so, even. You even skipped your usual day off to go to the gym.” Kristjan rolled his eyes as Aron added, “You’d probably still be at the gym had Gabriel and Odette not made you leave so they could go home.”
Aron asked pointedly, “Seriously. Why are you doing this? I get you want to get back into things but you’ve been overdoing it. Even by your standards.”
“You said it, Aron.” Kristjan pointed out. “It’s my first match since July. Do you think I want to go out there and fuck everything up and actually lose!?”
“So this is about your ego?” Aron’s lips curled into a smile as he could not resist the urge to tease his older brother just a touch. “It’s about winning?”
“Lord have mercy!” Kristjan chided right back, picking up the proverbial gauntlet. “Someone must have told you the secret to this business!” Aron smiled, recognizing Kristjan’s own brand of sarcastic wit, but the older of the two wasn’t finished. “I have to win this one, A.” He shook his head. “I can’t lose this one. Not to Vinnie.”
“I know you hate losing…” Aron started to say, but Kristjan cut him off. “No, you don’t get it. This is one that I have to win.”
“I thought you respected Vinnie.” Aron shrugged his slim shoulders.
“As a wrestler, yeah.” Kristjan’s attention shifted toward the Corgi momentarily before forgetting about it and returned to chatting his brother up. “But he’s the reason I missed the last three months. He’s why I didn’t get to work on that cruise. I could have competed in India! I’ve never gotten to wrestle or fight in India! But I couldn’t. Because of him.”
Aron softly exhaled, knowing what Kristjan was getting at. Having that cologne sprayed into his eyes had done more than just damage Kristjan’s eyes. It damaged his pride. There was a point in time where for over two months, Kristjan was afraid. A sensation that his older brother rarely felt. He was afraid his career was over. He was afraid that he might never see again. And he was embarrassed over the fact that during this time, he had been forced to rely on others such as himself just to get by on every day, simple activities. Such a thing was alien to a man like his brother, and it hurt Aron seeing him go through this ordeal.
Plus, Aron knew that the cologne to the eyes which led to Vinnie’s defeat of his brother was also at the heart of why Kristjan wanted to win this upcoming match so badly. To better right a wrong.
“I understand why this is so important to you, K.” Aron offered. “But maybe that’s another reason why you should ease up? Just a bit?” Kristjan frowned at that logic and Aron continued, “If you keep working yourself like this, you’re going to end up over exerting yourself. Maybe even risk a training injury. Then where will you be?”
Aron waited for a response to come from Kristjan but it wasn’t to be. The small dog's incessant barking had finally disturbed the two brothers enough that their attention was diverted from their discussion and instead towards the dog itself as well as the bush it's attention had been drawn to for some oblivious reason. But what was more, Kyssa's own attention was now being drawn towards the much smaller dog and the bush that its eyes and suddenly aggressive nature was focused on. Kyssa's eyes walked onto the bush and she slowly stood up, her jowls beginning to quiver in an uncharacteristic snarl which devolved into a full on growl. That above all else concerned Kristjan and Aron.
"What the fuck…?" Kristjan started to say when Kyssa suddenly lunged forward, almost knocking the smaller dog aside as she dove into the bush, burying herself from the waist up!
"Kyssa!" Kristjan shouted in a definitive commanding tone but it was completely unnecessary. Whatever had caused this back of aggression was over quicker than it had begun. Kyssa withdrew from the bushes and..
"Oh dear Lord!" The old woman cried as she scooted back across the bench while Kristjan cursed. Because in Kyssa's mouth was a dead gopher snake. Kyssa turned around and looked up at her master, her tail wagging and expecting love and praise but instead found his finger in her face and an angry scowl on his own.
"Down!" He commanded. "Kyssa! Put it down!" Kristjan swiftly grabbed the snake's dead body and tossed it aside, away from them but coming close enough to the old lady to where she cried out, looking as though she were about to collapse from fright.
"Are you alright?" Aron asked, slipping back to English as he moved to take a seat beside the trembling senior to better check on her. Holding onto the leash in one hand, she held the other on her chest. Eyes closed, she nodded.
"I'll be fine." She said, "That was just rather an unwelcome surprise."
"It was, wasn't it?" Aron smiled, patting the back of her hand with his own, displaying that pleasant charm he was so known for, the exact opposite of his brother. And speaking of his brother, Kristjan himself was keeping a close eye on the old woman's condition. But for all together different reasons as he didn't want to have to search her for one of those things on the old chance she fell and couldn't get up. But just as he was going to speak up himself, from the corner of his eyes he saw Kyssa's attention still fixated on the bush. Only this time, rather than agitated, she seemed almost hyperactive and excited. She leaned down on her front paws with her backside sticking straight up and her tail going on Mile a minute while her towing hung out in a lopsided doggy smile. The same could be said for the small Corgi as it all but slid up beside Kyssa, prompting a reaction from all three present.
The senior said worriedly, "Peanut? What is…?" She then looked up worriedly toward the two men and her bottom lip trembled in a touch of worry. "Oh no. Another one?"
"Shit!" Kristjan exclaimed, saying to Aron. "Get Kyssa away from…" but before he could finish his instructions, and before by instinct alone Aron could take hold of her collar, they all heard it. The same noise. A small, soft squeak that was barely loud enough to be heard. Certainly not the sound that a snake would make, not even one just hatched.
Kristjan took a step closer towards the bush to investigate, brushing past both excited dogs while Aron positioned himself between the bush and the frightened elderly woman. Kristjan reached towards the bush when the small movement at the very bottom drew their attention as the leaves parted and a very small kitten, no more than two or three weeks old, crawled its way out on stubby legs that could barely support its body. Now it all made sense. The kitten was obvious pray for the snake and Kyssa killed the reptile before it could feed.
The kitten was a pitiful sight; malnourished. One eye watery while the other was crusted shut and the fleas could be seen popping off of its calico colored fur. It lifted its head on it's unsteady neck to look around and saw an excited Kyssa attempting to get close and it hissed as kittens do, far more endearing than it would be threatening.
"Oh my…" The old woman sighed, obviously infatuated at the pitiful site. Aron too was charmed as he passed Kyssa's leash over to Kristjan's hands so that he could slowly and quietly approach the small form.
"Aron, don't." Kristjan said, the only one out of the three present that was not affected by the site. "Don't touch…"
But it was too late. Aron, ignoring the kitten's hisses and his brother's protests, scooped the tiny body up into his hands and held it up so that he might look at it in the eye. And a soft smile crept on the corner of the younger brother's lips. Kristjan exhaled, shaking his head in faux dismay. His dislike for cats was all too well known to his friends and family.
Aron lowered the kitten in his hands from eye level and held it against his chest, taking the time to look around before asking, "Do you see a mother cat around anywhere?"
"No." Kristjan quipped, his every word dripping with sarcasm. "All I see is flea bait and YOU getting fleas all over you!" Indeed so and Aron couldn't have cared less as his first concern was for the welfare and well-being of the small animal in his care.
"Okay." Aron sighed, resigned. "I guess I know what I need to do."
"Put it back where it came from?" Kristjan suggested without so much of a trace of sarcasm in his voice, telling his younger brother that he was actually quite serious with the suggestion. Aron, on the other hand, looked at his brother as if he just grew a second head.
"No?" Aron said in response. "I'm going to take it to the vet. Kyssa's vet is open today, isn't she?"
Kristjan frowned, not liking where the direction that this unwelcome situation was headed. "Yes, but you're not seriously going to bother her over…" He simply waved a hand in the direction of the kitten. "...That! … Thing!"
"It's not a 'thing', K!" Aron said louder and with more heat than he might have intended. "It's a kitten! And it needs help!"
“Just put it down!” Kristjan all but commanded, and expected to be adhered to. “Someone else can come along to help it.”
“Oh!” The old woman scoffed, but Aron shook his head, just staring at him. He said, “And how long would that take, K? Long enough for something else to come along and kill it?”
Kristjan all but rolled his eyes at the argument being put up by Aron. No, he didn’t want harm to come to the animal, but he also knew Aron’s heart and what this would most likely lead to and he wanted NO part of that either. He said, “Aron…”
Aron said with an uncharacteristic tone, “You know, for someone who fancies himself an animal lover, you can be a real dick when it comes to animals that you don’t happen to like!” And that being said, Aron walked right past Kristjan - WITH the kitten still in his arms, and Kristjan turned full circle with a look of utter disbelief on his face that his baby brother would say something like that to him. Only the sound of the old woman clucking her tongue drew him from out of his mental stupor and he shook it off. He looked down at the elderly woman who shook her head at him and just before he could say something that would draw a more shocked surprise than even that of the snake, Kristjan stormed past her, calling out…
“Aron!”
TBC
Turnberry Towers
Night had fallen on the infamous ‘City of Sin’ and the homestead of the Baltasarsson brothers had slowly succumbed to the night. Aron had long since passed out, the seemingly never ending days of working out at his brother’s side – running, sparring matches inside of the ring, just in general being there while he risked running himself ragged, had actually caused Aron himself to be run ragged instead. Now he was deep in his own dreams while Kristjan - Fenris - walked throughout the luxury condo that the two siblings shared. It was just after eleven, nearing the midnight hour. Normally when Fenris was at this level of training, he would be early to bed, early to rise. It was simply in his nature. But there was much on the man’s mind as he weaved through the living room and walked over to his personal bar and poured for himself a drink, his favored honey-infused whiskey.
Two ice cubes. Just enough to give the burn of the alcohol a pleasant chill. He held the amber glass in his hand and swirled the contents around, his eyes almost hypnotized by the ice’s movements as the soft clink against the sides of the glass tickled his ears.
“Ten percent.”
He looked up and walked over the soft, white carpeting that covered the cherry wood floor paneling with his bare feet until he stepped up onto the platform that led to the outside patio where one could see out into the never ending nightlife of Las Vegas. Only, he did not pull the sliding door open. He simply stood there and watched out over the city’s lights that seemed to stretch on without end.
“That is what I lost, Vinnie. Ten percent of my sight.”
Lifting the glass in hand, he took a sip and closed his eyes, feeling the relaxing sensation of the burn as it coursed down the back of his throat. Once satisfied, his eyes opened and he shrugged his shoulders.
“It could have been so much worse, I suppose. I know. For damn near three entire months, I sat inside of this place I came to call a home away from home, and wished to have nothing to do with it. I wanted out. I wanted away. And why? Because I could not leave! Not without the safety net of having someone by my side to keep me from walking blind into the street or taking the wrong bus or taxi and ending up in another state or my luck - another country! Have you any idea what I went through in those three months when I was literally being watched over and babysat by my brother and my mother? Do you know how it felt when friends such as the Stevens or Dani or Bobbie would come over to check on my welfare, and I could not see them? But I could hear the swell of pity in their voices?”
He chuckled.
“I know they would say something different but that is okay. They felt bad for me. It’s only natural I suppose to feel bad for someone who would be going through such a potentially life altering situation like I was. After all, for the longest time there was no guarantee that I was ever going to see again - AT ALL! If it was happening to someone that I was close to, I imagine that I would be reacting in pretty much the same way that they did. I would feel bad for them. I would want to watch over and protect them because they were not able to do so for themselves. But you know something…?”
The hand holding the glass rose, forefinger extended for emphasis.
“I am not them. I am Fenris, the White Wolf. I am supposed to be the one protecting. I am supposed to be the one who can handle shit on my own. Because that is the way I always thought it should be. It is just who I am, a part of my nature. I take care of my pack, not the other way around!”
Fenris’s reflection could be seen against the glass, his eyes staring hard toward the camera behind him.
“And you, Vinnie - you took that independence away from me. With one simple action from you in that match, you stripped me of my independence! You fucking tore apart what I always felt made me who I was! Do you have any clue how many hours I was forced to just sit here in this very condo and listen to the television like it was a fucking radio!? How I had to have whoever was here with me EXPLAIN to me what was going on, on the screen!? How when I wanted to get up and shower in the morning, how long it took me to feel my way into my own goddam bathroom to paw my way into the shower!? How I had to ask people to get out the clothes for me that I wanted to wear!? To trust in them that they didn’t just put me in something fucking ridiculous just to get a laugh at my expense!? How when it was time for meals, I had to be escorted to my own table and handed the utensils!? How I had to feel my way around eating! I knocked over so many plates to the floor and spilled so many glasses, I could have fucking CRIED at the humiliation! Me! CRIED! I had to literally FIGHT my own mother to keep her from wanting to help me in the bathroom whenever I needed to take a shit! Hell! I’m still surprised I was allowed to wipe my own ass! How when I wanted to get out, when I was ALLOWED to get out, how I always had to have someone with me for my own safety!? And the one time I did manage to escape out on my own, PROVING that I could manage, you’d think the world was going to end the way everyone carried on! Thank fuck Mac Bane calmed them down enough to let him look for me himself or else my mom and brother were likely to call in the FBI to find me and drag me back home, kicking and screaming!”
“But out of everything, all the humiliations I felt? All of the frustrations that I endured, do you know what hurt me the most? The fact that I could not even take my own dog for her walks! I could not feed her or play with her without risking hurting her! The simplest of pleasures I had in life, taking care of my girl? Taken away.”
“The only thing I refused to not be taken away from me was my health, my workouts.. I know. Big surprise, right? I did not care what I had to do or how I did it, that would not be taken away. And even then – I had people hovering all over me because otherwise I was going to end up killing myself trying to simply do what had always come natural to me. I had to be led by hand like an old woman to the benches! Handed the free weights or helped into the rowing machines! To be led BY HAND to the treadmills and start off like I’m some eighty year old codger before they would deign to let me speed things up! All for my own safety. I don’t even know what made me still climb inside of the ring at the GO Gym. I think I tripped on the ropes and fell on my face often enough to have my own blooper reel. But they let me do it, Gabriel and Odette. They knew what it meant. They allowed it not for my physical well being, but my mental. Despayre. Daniel Morgan. Aron. Gabriel himself. They all got into the ring and …”
He chuckled, which would have surprised any who might have been watching this.
“They even took Despayre up on his idea of ‘evening the playing field’ by wearing blindfolds. At first I was pissed, insulted even, because to me that was just another shot at what I could or could not get done on my own, but then I realized - with some outside coaxing, it was just Despayre’s way of trying to be there for me whether I wanted it or not. Watching those video feeds now, I could piss myself laughing at the way we stumbled around the ring and felt the air, trying to find each other. But once we found the other, game on. They indulged me, despite the fact we had to take it easy so we didn’t break each other's necks in there. And all of that? None of it would have been possible were it not for the smackdown that got laid on me by a very special woman. Mac Bane? If you’re watching out there? Tell Vivian thanks. Because as sorry as I felt for myself, I came to understand that others have it far worse. I knew that there was a chance that my eyes would heal completely. That wondrous woman? Fate did not smile so much down on her. Out of everyone who had been there for me the past three months, taking care of me when I fought against it and putting up with my shouting and insisting that I could do it alone, Vivian was the one who railed against me and made me see (pun not intended) that I was swimming in a great big fucking pity ocean, and I needed to climb out before I drowned. Some things, some acts of kindness, you can never repay. Hers was one, but I'll be damned if I stop trying to find a way of showing her how much I appreciate what she did for me when I was at my lowest.”
“Then came the most pleasant of surprises; I started to see light and shapes during my eye exams. My eyes were in the process of healing. My sight was returning. Slowly, but it was coming back. I just wasn’t certain how MUCH of it was going to return. Nobody knew, not even the doctor. The healing process could have stopped at any point, leaving me seeing little else through a fog. I could have needed surgery. I could have needed glasses. There was always the chance that simply nothing could be done for me, and I would just have to accept it. And do you want to know the shocking truth, Vinnie? That terrified me. TERRIFIED! Have you ever felt that level of fear, Vinnie!? HUH!? The fear that there was simply nothing that you could do or could be done for you, and that your way of life was just – over?”
“Is this getting through to you at all, Vinnie? My telling you everything that you cost me and the degradation that you put me through, even if you did so inadvertently? Because it brings to me the question as to ‘why’, Vinnie. Why did you do it? You and I - we were having ourselves a fairly competitive match. Just like we always do whenever we step inside of the ring against one another. We were beating the shit out of each other! We took each other to the absolute limit…”
He held up a hand, and stalled. He took another drink from the glass and slowly, he turned around, turning his back to the bright lights of the city.
“And I wonder if I just answered my own question. How many times had we faced one another before that match at Into the Void X? Two? Three times? And what happened? I won each and every time. Granted in those days the World title was at stake so we were fighting harder than ever before, but it just makes me wonder if that’s why you took advantage of Bea distracting the referee so that I could get a face full of that shit, and you could score a cheap win over someone you’d yet been able to beat? Well, bravo, Vinnie!”
Fenris clapped his open palm against the curled fingers holding the glass.
“You did it. You got the win over me, by hook or by crook as they say. But that’s not the situation that we find ourselves in now, is it? I can see, and Bea won’t be there. Now I would like to think that after everything we’ve been through, after you asking for my forgiveness, that taking cheap shots like that is beyond you. But you’ll forgive me for asking my brother to take out an added insurance policy to get her banned from accompanying you to the ring. You understand - it’s not personal. It’s business. And if you know anything about me, Vinnie, you would know just how seriously I take my business inside of that ring. I take no chances. And even if you don’t want to take any cheap wins this time around, you never know if that backstabbing bitch will honor your wishes or if she’ll go against them and try to interfere anyway. That is why I had Aron arrange for that little bonus between us. It had nothing to do with you, but everything to do with her.”
He motioned a forefinger between the camera and himself.
“This thing between us, Vinnie? I want it to stay just like that - between us. You don’t have to worry about Aron interfering, because he never has and he never will. He knows me well enough to know that if I can’t do something on my own, I don't want to do it at all. And unlike Bea, Aron honors that.”
He stepped down from the deck and back onto the carpeting, taking one step closer toward the camera.
“I admit that it is nice being me, Vinnie. When I was medically cleared, I was given free reign on choosing who I wanted to face in my first match back. Mac Bane? Ben Jordan? Alexander Raven? Finn Whelan? Shit! If I wanted to, I dare say I could have negotiated a match against Ken Davison for the championship! But. I. Didn’t! I wanted only one person in my first match since July. I knew who it had to be.”
He pointed straight at the camera with the hand holding the glass.
“You, Vinnie. It was always going to be you. Because you and I could say the sweetest words or make all the promises in the world about forgiveness and moving on, but the only way this thing between us is ever going to end, is by ending it. Inside of the ring, and me tapping you out!”
He fully drained the glass in hand of its contents and slammed it onto the accent table beside the sofa, his eyes never leaving those watching.
“One more time, Vinnie. One last time. I am going to right a wrong.”
