His eyes told the entire story.

He was not happy.

“So let me get this straight RJ…”

He called me by my first name now; he had grown impetuous in the last month, with his services and the services of his men seeming to be all but useless. He rubbed his right temple in a clockwise motion with one hand and removed his sunglasses with the other hand.

“You take me and my men off of television and have us sitting around in hotel rooms for the last month. And now, you’re telling me that I’m going to be in a match with you this Friday against Chris Bagwell and Jack Griffiths?”

I solemnly nod to him, adding a part he had neglected to remember.

“And after this match, your services will no longer be necessary.”

He shakes his head, taking a sip of the beer I had ordered for him.

“You know, you should have just cut us loose weeks ago. Men like me and those three upstairs don’t take being tied down too well. There’s always a need for our skill sets elsewhere, and there’s always someone who is willing to pay more.”

He snorts and turns away from me, glaring out into the small and dark hotel bar. The two of us are the only people here, save for the bartender, and this place is completely unbefitting of a decorated champion such as me.

The bartender finally hands me my drink. She half heartedly smiles at me. An attractive girl of about twenty four; she may be worth it if I grow bored later tonight.

“Here’s your beer, sir.”

She places the glass next to my hand. It’s lukewarm.

Hendrick is still turned away from me. I’m not sure what he is so upset about. He is going to get the remainder of his contract paid in a lump sum and walk away ahead of the game. I sincerely hope he had no feeling of brotherhood with me. He was a mercenary; he had no dedication to a cause as I did. He simply travelled where the money was good and stayed as long as he pleased.  

His time with me had run out.

I stare at the bartender for a moment. I gesture to my beer.

“Is there something wrong, sir?”

“This drink, it’s warm.”

“Oh, well would you like another one?”

She blushes, clearly embarrassed at her substandard work. I smile.

“No, I’d like for you to come to my room when your shift is over.”

She seems taken aback, but after taking a closer look at me, she most graciously accepts my spare room key with an impish grin. 

Behind me I hear Hendrick snicker. I’m beginning to lose my patience, given how he is acting. I decide to end our night early, given that I’ll have entertainment of my own in a few hours.

“What now?”

He quickly finishes his beer, slamming the glass down on the bar. He stands from his stool, putting his jacket and sunglasses on.

“Oh nothing, RJ; I’m actually glad that you and I are done after this week. If I weren’t legally obligated to listen to what you had to say, I’d leave you out in that ring alone. You’re just a spoiled, rich punk who can’t fight his own battles.”

I coyly take a sip of my beer and respond without even looking at him.

“I’m sorry you feel that way, Hendrick. But refresh my memory, who won the WWA title, twice? Who was it that made Jack Griffiths an insurance liability to the World Wrestling Alliance? Who has solidified himself as the most influential and dangerous man in this company? Ask yourself all of those questions, and you’ll get the same answer. And that man, he did all of that, and he did that alone. Show up on Friday to compete, this is the last thing I ask of you. You can do that, can’t you? You’re quite good at turning your emotions off from what I’ve seen. Show up a blank slate, one that is ready for war. One match, that is all you have left. And then you and your men can go back to giving all the little boys and girls in third world hell-holes nightmares.”

He manages a smile, despite the newfound hatred he had for me. He then walked away, speaking one last comment over his shoulder.

“You’d make one hell of a politician, Stone.”

Hendrick hated politicians. Now the bartender saunters over to me, the lone patron left in her establishment. She is decidedly confused, but she leans over the bar towards me.

“What the hell was that guy’s problem?”

I push my warm drink out from between the two of us. I lean in to her.

“Don’t worry about him; he’s a very bad man.”

She’s done this before, I think. Her breathing remains calm, her eyes studying my face. They quickly look up to the freshly minted scar on my forehead, where my stitches used to be. She leans in even closer to me, her supple and pouting lips inches from mine.

“Where’d that come from?”

She grazes my forehead with her hand. I quickly grab her wrist and place her hand back on the bar, keeping the two of us almost nose to nose. I speak quietly.

“I got it in a car accident.”

I now hold her hand back up to my forehead. She closes her eyes and brushes her cheek against mine, speaking into my ear in a ghostlike whisper.

“Are you a bad man too?”

“Yes, I am.”

She gently moans and aggressively pulls my mouth to hers.

She tastes of cinnamon. She kisses me deeply, and for a very long time.

She finally pulls away from me, her hazel eyes now full of fiery lust and a very dark passion.

“My shift is over now. We can go play.”

She’s lying. But I wasn’t about to scold her for it. I watch her every move as she slinked around the bar. She takes my hand and we head for the elevator in the lobby.

I hadn’t felt this alive in months.

I was truly a king. I was the greatest Assassin in the World Wrestling Alliance. I didn’t need anyone.

I was the perfect competitor.

And much like this seductress I had just discovered, the WWA title was mine.

And I had just decided that I would not be letting either of them go for a long, long time.