Under Attack 2023
August 12
Santa Barbara
Valentine Home
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“This will be interesting and different, I've never done this here before.”
I followed Jada through the front door at home. Tommy had gone in first. It was late but not midnight yet. Jada's shift at the Starmaker had ended at ten, and as we had discussed a few days before, she came home with us, basically for me. I closed the door behind me and locked it, telling myself to stop freaking out. I agreed, didn't I? I said I'd try anything once, right?
“Don't get used to it, we typically don't bring people here.” Tommy set a bag down on the kitchen counter, it contained two bottles of gin from the club. They were already chilled.
Jada turned and grinned. “Oh, so that makes me special.”
“I suppose it does.”
“Special occasion, at the very least.” I leaned on the island counter, pushing my cleavage up. I should also probably mention I was four drinks deep. Jada looked at me and smirked.
“I hope so.”
Tommy had the gin out of the bag and was holding a bottle in each hand. “Are we taking both of these up?”
“Might as well. There's a fridge in my studio.”
“Right, perfect.”
“Well, what are we waiting for?”
“Not a damn thing.” I spun around and towards the stairs, taking a few steps before looking back over my shoulder. Jada was right behind me, Tommy a few steps behind her.
Upstairs, I went straight to the guest room, across the hall from me and Tommy's bedroom. That was a place for only us and no one else would ever fuck around in there but us. This room was almost the same size and had a king bed as well, so it's plenty comfortable and suitable for any activity. I sat on the end of the bed and smiled up at them both.
“I hope you brought cups for that gin.”
“I did not. I figured with what's going on, no one would mind just drinking from the bottle.”
“That... is a fair point. In that case, hand me one.” Tommy did. It was chilled as cold as possible without freezing, just how I like it. I cracked it open and had a drink. “Fuck, that's good.” I held the bottle out to Jada. She took it, and drank.
“Fuck yeah.” She then sat down next to me, still holding the bottle. Tommy leaned against the dresser. The other bottle was nowhere to be seen, I assumed he'd put it in my studio fridge before coming in here. “So... how do you guys want to play this?” Jada glanced back and forth between me and Tommy.
“You gotta tell me, doll. I have no idea what I'm doing.”
“Yep, I'm gonna let you ladies work things out. Just tell me where you want me.” Tommy smirked.
“I don't think you need to be told that, babe.”
Jada laughed. “Right. But okay, did we decide if this is a group thing, or...?”
“I don't think anyone came out and said it... we just assumed. Or I did.” I shrugged.
“As I said... just tell me what I'm doing. If anything. If you two would rather... get to know each other, without me here, I'm fine with that. Maybe it would be less... awkward? Is that the right word?”
“I don't know if that's the right word, but I know what you mean. I think you're right.”
Tommy pushed himself off the dresser. “Done. I'll just chill across the hall. Come grab me if my presence is needed.”
I got up and walked to the door with him, speaking quietly. “Are you sure you don't mind leaving?”
“I'm sure. This isn't about me anyway, it never was. I'm up for whatever makes it easier for you. And if you've changed your mind, you're allowed to do that, too.”
“I haven't. I just think I'd be too distracted by you, if you get me.”
Tommy nodded. “Yep, understood. So. I'll be in our room. If I don't see you again tonight... have fun.” He smirked.
“Thanks. But don't go to sleep too soon... we might need you eventually.”
“Yes ma'am.” He smirked again, then kissed me at the door. I watched him go across the hall, into our bedroom, and wink at me as he shut the door.
Well. Put out or get out time, right?
I turned around to go back to Jada, and saw that while Tommy and I spoke at the door, she took the opportunity to undress. Completely. Now I've seen dozens of naked women in my life, more up close than most women do. It's almost a job hazard, with all the locker rooms I've dressed in, both in kickboxing and wrestling. But I'm pretty fucking sure I'd never stood across from one that looked as hot as Jada did right then. No fucking wonder Tommy enjoyed spending time with her. Curves for days, almost like mine. A tiny tattoo near her bikini line that I couldn't make out. And clean shaved, just like I keep myself.
“Whoa.”
Jada smirked. “Figured there was no reason to waste more time. One of us had to strip first, might as well be me.”
“I think you'll be taking the lead on everything here.” I found the gin and had another drink. More of a gulp. It was a strange thing for me, to be nervous about sex. I didn't like it... yet in a weird way, I kinda did.
“I don't mind. Come over here and share that gin.”
I grinned, and walked up to her. I handed her the bottle, but she shook her head then opened her mouth. Oh, she wanted me to give it to her. I lifted the bottle to her mouth and tilted it up, slowly. I didn't want her to choke. She drank, and I guess I went too far anyway, because some dribbled out. It leaked down her neck, over her chest. She backed away, laughing.
“Oh fuck, that's cold!”
“Sorry... I tried to-”
“It's fine. You'll just have to clean me up.” She smirked, and it was just then that I realized I hadn't fucked it up at all... she let it leak out on purpose.
“Oh... I'm sure I can do that.”
Jada stepped closer to me, and grabbed at the hem of my top. “First though, you're gonna have to match me in attire.” She started pulling up, and I got the hint. I grabbed my top from her hands and pulled it off, throwing it across the room. After quickly removing my skirt, bra, and underwear, we matched.
“This better?”
Jada looked me up and down, her eyes stopping midway. She must have noticed I was shaved, too. “Much.” She closed the gap between us, closer than before, so that our chests were pushing against each other. I could feel the cold line of gin that had dripped down her left side. She rested her hands on my shoulders. “Before either of us actually does anything, I'm just gonna say... if at any time you're over it, done, whatever? Just say so. I won't be offended or mad.”
“Okay.” I smiled. “Pretty sure that's not gonna happen though.”
“Just saying. You never know.” She smiled back, then leaned in and kissed me. There it was again. Soft. My hands went to her waist as we kissed, and I felt more of the gin spill along her side. I rubbed up with my hand, following the cool trail. Up her ribs, then up and over her tit. She inhaled harder, and I could feel her smile again against my lips. She pulled back just enough to speak, still partially touching my mouth with hers.
“I did say clean me up... but I didn't mean with your hands.”
“Show me what you mean.” I had no idea I was gonna say that until it was out of my mouth. Jada pulled away more, and I saw that grin I was starting to think was hot.
“Okay.” She leaned forward, and stuck her tongue out, starting underneath a tit, then dragged the tip up and over my nipple. I knew what she had meant, I just didn't want to be the first one to move past kissing. Jada lifted her head back up, grinning again. “Get it?”
In reply, I just smirked, and did the exact same thing to her that she just did to me. The mix of gin with her skin was an oddly pleasant taste. As I went up, instead of continuing up, I drew a circle around her nipple with my tongue. She made a small sound of pleasure. I wouldn't call it a moan. More like what you do when you take a bite of something delicious.
“Mmmm. You learn quick.”
“So I've been told.”
“Let's see what else you can learn.” Jada stepped back a little, hands on her hip bones, clearly trying to draw my eyes down. “Have you ever touched a pussy that isn't yours?”
“No.” I answered not looking up at her, but down, where she wanted me to. She dragged a hand over herself and widened her stance a little.
“Don't be shy.”
“I'm usually not.” I stepped forward, and lowered my hand, but stopped before touching her. “This isn't usual.”
“I'll go first. How's that?” I just nodded. She grabbed me gently between my legs, just cupping the mound. Even her hands were soft. I just needed to know how I was supposed to do it, I'm used to handling cock. So, I reached out to her and cupped my hand over the same way. She moved a little, pressing herself into my hand. “I hope you know what to do next.”
“I think I can figure it out.”
She moved her fingers under me and into the folds, just as I did the same thing to her. We were both ready for whatever was next. I couldn't find that little nub from this angle, so she hit mine first. My other hand grabbed onto her hip as I steadied myself. Finally, I found the stubborn thing, and she shuddered.
“Yeah... very quick learner.” Before I could say anything back, she was kissing me again.
It didn't take long for me to get over the fact I was fooling around with a woman, and just go with it. After a minute or so of mutually handling each other, she pulled away. I felt instantly deprived.
“Okay, now you should go lay down. I'll give you an advanced lesson.”
At that point I would have probably done anything she asked, so I went to the bed and sat on the edge, then laid back.
“Uh-uh. All the way up. Can't have you sliding off.” She grinned, laughing a little. I laughed a little too and scooted up. As I was laying back again, she crawled up on the bed almost next to me, except not all the way up. She was sort of kneeling near my hips.
“You gotta give me some room, sweetie.” She patted a thigh. Oh. Duh. I didn't know why I hadn't realized what she planned to do, but it was suddenly clear. I blamed the gin that was still in my system and clouding my head. I opened my legs and Jada got into position, and without any more talk, dove in. I say 'dove' for a reason, because up til that point everything she had done was gentle and slow... except this? Full pressure from her mouth, and deep. No hesitation. If I had wanted to hold myself back from reacting, I couldn't have. Seconds later I was screaming, and seconds after that I was done. Less than a minute.
“Holy shit...” I had to catch my breath.
“That seemed kinda quick, sweetie.” Jada sounded amused. I opened my eyes and propped myself up on my elbows.
“For me, it was.”
“I guess that means you're enjoying yourself?”
“So far.”
Jada laughed, and crawled up to lay next to me. “Think you can do that to me?”
“I don't know, but I'll give it a good try.”
“If you lick the way you kiss, I think you'll do just fine.”
I smiled, and got into position. I had obviously never seen a cunt from that angle, that close, so I was just... looking. Moving things around. Soft, pink, slick.
“Pretty, aren't they?”
“I definitely see the attraction.”
“Don't be shy.”
I grinned up at her, then looked back down. Well, I'd tasted myself on men's fingers and cocks before, so I figured it wouldn't be much different. I bent down.... and I was wrong. It was better. It was a lot easier to find what I was looking for from this direction, and I was surprised at how easily I found a rhythm and how natural it felt. Jada wiggled and moaned and she was done almost as fast as I was.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” She panted. “Have you been lying to me? You've really never done this before?”
“Never. No lie.”
She propped herself up like I had before. “I can't imagine what you'll be able to do with practice.”
“Maybe it's just because you've wanted me for a while.” I smirked. Whatever nervousness or shyness I had at the start of this was long gone. A good come can do that. Jada smiled, and I would have bet my bottle of gin that she blushed.
“That might have something to do with it.”
I crawled up beside her like she had earlier. “Is that it?”
“Oh, there is a whole world of things I could show you. I'd love to. But I gotta know first... what'd you think?”
“Well... I'm pretty sure I still like cock better. But I wouldn't say no to more.”
Jada smiled, then kissed me. “I'll take it.”
“Yeah, you sure will.” I smirked. She laughed.
“Yes indeed.” She sat up halfway, leaning on one arm facing me. “Speaking of cock... you feel like bringing him in here?”
“You sure?”
“I asked, didn't I?”
As a reply, I just got up and went to the door. Not bothering to put anything on, I went to the door of my bedroom and knocked, then opened the door. Tommy was sitting up in bed, messing with his phone. He looked up at me, and his eyes widened when he noticed I was still naked. I smiled at him.
“Am I to assume this is an invitation?”
“I'd call it a summons.”
“Well, I can't ignore one of those.” He tossed his phone aside on the bed and got up, pulling his shirt off as he did.
Back in the guest room, it was as if there had been no weirdness earlier at all. Everyone now knew each other in every way, and we found multiple ways to explore that. When we were finally worn out and satiated, I laid in the middle of the bed, Jada on one side and Tommy on the other. My personal mission of figuring out who I am had uncovered one definition. I was a woman who enjoyed sex with other women. I would have never even thought about it if Jada hadn't asked. Maybe having your identity redefined isn't always a bad thing.
September 4
Los Angeles
Windsor Law Firm
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SCW's summer break is over, which means Breakdown returned. Ever since Rise to Greatness, after I beat Selena Frost and became the World Champion, it hadn't really sunk in that holy shit I'm the motherfucking World Champion. But going back on the road, and walking into an arena, carrying the belt... it finally hit me. I was at the top of this company, I was the representation of what SCW is and means. The way I carried myself as the champion would set the tone for how SCW was seen around the world as a promotion. Well... I thought that millions of people were tired of the stuffiness, the holier-than-thou crap, the savior complex mentality. I thought... the SCW adoring public was in dire need of some fun. So, I had my celebration all set up. Had a car similar to the one I won in December there, found some hot guys to dress nice and carry me to the ring. One in particular to celebrate a little extra in the ring...
Except Asher Hayes somehow weaseled his way into my suit crew and ruined everything when he speared me out of nowhere. I barely had time to register the fact it was him before he hit me, driving the air out of me. Turns out, he wasn't the only one with the same idea of attacking me right away – Simon Lyman had stolen a suit too, and the person driving my car disappeared, meaning that was someone after me, too. I hadn't gotten through one fucking Breakdown before being targeted. I should have expected it, really. Especially from Asher, he's had a hard on for becoming World Champion for years. But did the motherfucker really need to try to break my damn ribs to make a point? He could have just asked.
It was a few days after Breakdown when Tommy and I had an appointment in Los Angeles. Labor Day to be exact, but everyone meeting today had agreed to work on the holiday, to try to get this thing settled without court. What thing, you ask? My sex video. I had Tommy's lawyer file a suit for me against the man who took me back to his room and recorded me in secret, then tried to blackmail me into not releasing it. I refused to pay, and the fucko actually released it. The guy had never give me his whole name, only called himself Cole. Tommy hired some investigators to find out his whole, real name, so I could then sue him. Not for damages, but for possession of the video. If I owned it, he couldn't release any more of it. We eventually learned his name is actually Colton Trask, and Tommy's lawyer, the woman meeting us today at her office, Selene Windsor, filed the suit. No wonder I could never remember her name, I blocked it out for being too close to that ice bitch.
We met with the lawyer lady in the lobby, and she led us to a meeting room. There were two tables, and we sat at one of them.
“Thank you guys for coming, I know it's odd to be doing business today.”
“We're wrestlers, there's no such thing as a holiday.”
“Except Christmas. There's never any shows on Christmas.”
“Damn religious freaks.”
I realized right after I said it that I had no idea if this woman was one of those freaks. Imagine my relief when she laughed.
“Fair enough. I honestly think the defendant requested today in hopes that we would refuse. Joke's on him.”
“Why exactly are we doing this, anyway? Instead of a regular court date?”
“Well, Mr. Trask's attorney suggested we try to come to a settlement without having to go through the time and cost of court.”
Tommy chuckled. “In other words, buddy can't afford the court costs if he loses. And the lawyer thinks he'll lose.”
Selene smiled. “That's my assessment.”
I do know a lot about certain legal procedures and such, but not this side of it. I do however know the law the man broke and exactly what needed to be said during this so-called negotiation.
A few minutes later, the door opened, and a man in a bad-fitting suit and messy hair walked in... followed by Cole. My stomach clenched; for some reason it hadn't occurred to me that he would be here too, the first time I'd seen him since the video was made. I glanced at Tommy, and the glare was almost visible across the room. The two men took the other table, and sat facing us. The rumpled lawyer cleared his throat.
“Good morning, I'm Graham Smitty, counsel for Mr. Colton Trask here. Thanks for meeting with us.”
Selene gave them a polite smile, but it was obvious to me that she was just as unimpressed by this guy as I was.
“Selene Windsor, counsel for Kandis Valentine. Also present is her husband, Thomas.” That sounded weird, but legal settings always use proper names.
“Great, are we ready to get started?”
“Ready when you are, Mr. Smitty.”
Smitty pulled some papers out of his binder (no briefcase for this cheapass fucko!), then got up long enough to hand one to Selene.
“That right there is a settlement offer, one that we feel is fair and hope you can agree to, so that everyone here can move on.”
Selene readsfor a few seconds, then laughed. “You've got to be kidding me.”
“No ma'am. Mr. Trask is prepared to relinquish ownership of the footage for the price listed there.”
Oh hell no. I didn't even care what the amount he wanted this time was. No. Fuck no.
“Wait, what? You're still trying to get money out of me? Are you learning impaired?”
I felt Tommy's hand on my leg under the table as he whispered. “Kandis, don't...”
Fucko – I mean Colton Trask – sat back in his chair with a smug look on his face. Smitty gave no reaction.
“That's how these things work, Mrs. Valentine. One side gives something up in exchange for what the other side has.”
“Mr. Smitty, we are well aware what-”
I stood up, despite Tommy trying to stop me. “First of all, don't you dare speak to me like I'm ten years old. Secondly-”
“Secondly...” Selene interrupted, shooting me a look that was clearly telling me to shut up. “My client has repeatedly declined Mr. Trask's requests for payment, what makes him, or you, think she will change her mind now?”
“We have something she wants.” Smitty shrugged.
“I believe we have something more important to your client than the money he wants.”
“What's that?”
“Freedom. Mrs. Valentine has proof that Mr. Trask attempted to blackmail her by threatening to release the footage unless she paid him. This proof also shows Mr. Trask implicating himself in several other scams of the same nature. Mrs. Valentine does not and will never intend to pay one penny for this video. She doesn't have to, because the video's existence is, in fact, a federal crime under the Video Voyeurism Prevention Act of 2004. If Mr. Trask would like my client to refrain from filing federal charges, he would not need to worry about the sentence for such a conviction, which could be a $5,000 fine and up to five years in federal prison. All your client has to do, Mr. Smitty... is sign over the video rights.”
Smitty opened and closed his mouth a few times, like a fat, greasy fish. “Excuse me one moment.” He leaned over closer to Trask and they spoke in whispers. Smitty then sat back up and leaned on his table. “If my client were to agree to this, he would ask that such proof you claim your client has be destroyed, so that there is no longer a threat of being charged with this crime.”
Selene glanced at me. I shrugged. I can delete screenshots. I don't care. I just want the fucking video.
“I don't think that is advisable, and I'll explain why..” Selene pulls papers out of her briefcase and hands them to Smitty. “There you will find an agreement we have already drawn up. Page one is relinquishing ownership and rights to the footage in question, including handing over any and all physical copies of said footage. Page two is an affidavit Mr. Trask will sign, stating that no other copies exist. Should more footage be released or found in his possession after this agreement is made, the entire agreement will be invalidated, and federal charges will be filed, along with perjury, for falsely signing this affidavit. This is why my client must keep her evidence. Leverage.”
Smitty read the papers, and spoke to Trask in whispers again. I saw the moment he realized he was fucked, when his face fell. I tried to hide my smirk. Tommy nudged my leg with his his under the table. I looked at him and said with no sound “I know.” Smitty's shoulders drooped, I imagine when he realized he wouldn't be getting paid for this.
“My client... reluctantly agrees to your terms.”
Selene smiled. “Great. Please sign those forms, you'll find them copied in triplicate. One each for you and I, and one for me to file with the court.” Smitty slid the pile to Trask, and he took his time signing, but finally finished. Smitty kept back his copy and handed the others back. “Thank you. I expect any and all physical copies of the footage to be in my office within the next forty-eight hours.”
Trask reached inside his jacket pocket, and spoke for the first time. “Not necessary. I have it here.” He pulled out something small, and dropped it on the table. It was two flash drives. Smitty was stunned.
“You brought those with you?” The sleazy lawyer was confused, and possibly upset by this.
“I keep 'em on me all the time. Keep 'em from getting stolen.”
Selene got up and took them from the table, then made a show of handing them to me. I resisted the urge to tuck them between my tits.
“And these are the only copies?”
“That I have control over, yeah. Under the Apron has the five minute version they paid for. Well, I guess the whole internet has that.” He chuckled, then stopped a second later when everyone else in the room glared.
“Why are there two?”
“One of 'em is the edit. It's marked with an X.” I glanced down at the drives in my hand. One had a white X on it, that looked like it was painted on with White-Out.
“Noted. Well, I feel this was a very productive meeting and on behalf of my client I'd like to thank you for offering to settle this today.” I could hear the smugness in her voice and I loved it.
As Tommy drove us home, I jiggled the flash drives in my hand.
“What are you gonna do with those?”
“I don't know. Drown them, crush them, make still shots and sell them....”
Tommy turned his head sharply at me for a second, then back to the road. “What was that last one?”
“I might be joking.”
“Might?”
“Think about it. How many views did that video get? Clearly people wanted to see me. I had to deal with the fallout of this. Worrying about our families' reactions, how it might have affected my career. Why shouldn't I make money from it if I can?”
Tommy shook his head, then laughed, more of a snicker. “Only my wife would have no problem selling stills from an ill-gotten video of herself having sex.”
“Don't act like you didn't know I don't care what people see or think.”
“Oh, I've known that for some time.”
“It's just a thought. If you don't like it, I won't do it.”
That got me another quick sideways glance. “Really?”
“Yeah, really. I might not care what anyone thinks, but I know you do.”
“I'll think about it.”
I jiggled the plastic in my hand the whole way home. I'd been doing a lot of contemplation about myself the last few weeks. What parts of my personality were really me, and what parts were just in reaction to, or some kind of defense mechanism against, everything I once thought I knew about myself? So many things I thought I was had fallen apart. Except this. The part of me that's always embraced the sensual parts of life, and doesn't give half a fuck what anyone thinks of me about it. Even with everything else about who I am, or might be, seeming to be ever changing, I am certain about one thing – I am, and will always be, shameless.
September 5
Hollywood, CA
Health Street Labs
------------------------
A few weeks ago, shortly after I showed Nate the letter my mother had left for me, he and I found this lab and gave samples for a DNA test. We explained our situation, that we couldn't get a sample from our father – well, my suspected one – without raising suspicion. We wanted an answer before we said anything to Ray at all. No problem, we were told. Knowing they were looking for a shared father helped the process. The results were supposed to be back in a week or so, but the lab got backlogged due to some technical difficulty the email I got tried to explain and I understood none of. But the day after settling things over the sex video, Nate and I are back at the lab. The results were finally in. We got an appointment to see a technician who could explain everything to us.
I found it amusing that the lab was on Fountain Avenue, the same street my old West Hollywood apartment was on, just a few miles down the road from Hollywood. I had started noticing more and more small coincidences like that lately. Maybe there was no such thing as coincidence. I arrived at the lab first, but as soon as I sat down, Nate walked in. He checked in for us both, then sat next to me. There was no one else there at the moment.
“Hey you.”
“Hey. I'd love to know how I got here before you when I drove twice as far.”
“I left the house twenty minutes ago.” He shrugged.
“Figures.” I shook my head at him.
“Saw your show. Are you okay?” Nate gestured towards my side.
“Mostly. I'll be fine by the time I have to wrestle.”
“You sure?”
I made face. “Mostly sure. But it doesn't matter because no one is gonna know about it if I'm not. I can work with minor bruising. I usually do.” Some body part or another was always bruised or scratched in this business. No one is ever at one hundred percent, no matter what they may claim.
“I guess that's true. Just be careful.”
“I always am.” I grinned. Nate was always worried about me in some way or another. For a long time it bothered me, but I'd started to realize it comes with the territory of being family.
“You should be more worried about Asher when I get a hold of his ass.”
“If you mean worried you won't kick his ass enough, yeah.” We both laughed quietly. Even though no one else was in the waiting room, it still seemed like a place where we should keep a reasonable volume. We were quiet for a minute or two, then the silence got to me.
“Are you nervous? About this?”
“No. Why, are you?”
“Yes! How can you not be?”
Nate shrugged. “You're my sister no matter what that test says. If it says what your mom's letter claims... that just makes it better.”
I shook my head. He still didn't get it. “That's easy for you to say. What about Mom and Dad? What if they reject the whole thing? Me?” I hadn't said that out loud before, not even to Tommy. Nate signed.
“Is that what you're worried about?” I nodded. “They can't argue with science.”
“No, but they can refuse anything to do with proof of an affair.”
“You're being ridiculous, Kandy. We've been over this.”
“We have, but you still don't get it.”
“Listen to me.” Nate grabbed my hand between his two, holding it tight. “If you honestly think that either Dad or Mom would turn their backs on you all of a sudden, after twenty years, because of something that happened thirty-five, thirty-six years ago and you had nothing to do with... then you've never known them at all.”
I looked down at his hands over mine. “I'm trying to believe that. But it's hard.” I looked up, wishing that this time, he would understand. “It's hard. I spent half my life bouncing around from rejection to rejection. I can't....” I sighed, I couldn't say it. I can't handle it if the people who accepted me as part of their family suddenly hated me for how I came to exist. Nate squeezed my hand. A female voice called from the desk.
“Williamson?”
Nate gave me a smile, and looked up. “Yeah, here.” I looked towards the desk. The young woman smiled at us both.
“They're ready for you. Follow me please.”
The young woman led us through the door and into an office a few doors down. The technician we were meeting with was seated at a desk, a middle-aged man with glasses. He was either bald or kept his head shaved. Nate thanked the woman and we sat.
“Nathan and Kandis, yes?” We nodded. “Good, I grabbed the right file. I'm Stephen, one of the lead lab techs here. I have your sibling DNA results in hand. I'd like to apologize again for the delay.”
“It happens. I'm just glad we have it now.”
“Indeed we do. So, I've looked over the results, and I'll give you each a copy. But first, let me explain to you exactly how this works and what you'll be looking at.”
“I'm not really the science minded type, so pretend I'm in high school to explain.” Stephen gave me an amused smile.
“I'll keep it simple. Now, the type of DNA testing that most people are familiar with is paternity. All DNA tests come back as a percentage match, and paternity is an either/or determination, most of the time. Either the match is ninety-nine-point-something percent, or just the minuscule percentage we all share that make us human. In some cases you'll see an eighty-something percent, and that can be if the man being tested is actually the child's uncle. You with me so far?”
“Yes.” Nate sounded sure.
“I think so.”
“Great. So, in the matter of siblings. A full sibling would only have an average of fifty percent match, since they both get half their DNA from each parent. There's really a range, forty to sixty-ish. But fifty is average. In the case of half-siblings, that average drops to twenty-five. Range being eighteen-ish to thirty-two or so. Make sense?”
Nate nodded.
“Kinda? I get the half and quarter parts, but I don't understand how it all breaks down.”
“There are charts that explain it better than I can in words. I can give you a booklet.”
“That'd be great.”
“But you do grasp the general idea?”
“Yeah, half-sibling doesn't mean fifty percent, for reasons. Right?”
Stephen grinned. “Yes, exactly. Now then.” He opened the large yellow envelope that was on the desk in front of him. Flipping through a few pages, he found the one he was looking for, then turns the paper around, laying it on the desk for us to look at. It was a set of graphs and a line of numbers I couldn't begin to understand. Stephen pointed his finger at a certain line.
“There's a lot of information here that I'm happy to explain in more detail if you like, but this line here is the pertinent one.”
I looked down at the number he was pointing at.
“Twenty-seven....” I looked up at Nate, then to Stephen. “That means.... we are related.”
Stephen smiled. “Correct. Further analysis based on the information you gave indicates that you share a father. We can't say that for scientific certainty without testing the father as well... but I'm confident in the conclusion.”
I turned back to Nate, and he sat back in the chair, shaking his head with a grin.
“Un-fucking-believable.”
All I could do was stare at him. It's not that I didn't believe my mother's letter. She had no reason to make up stories on her deathbed. But this was proof. This made it real. My later teenage years flashed through my head, from the first day I got to their house, through high school, holidays birthdays, graduation, every occasion that Ray and Debbie treated me no differently than their own son, made sure to make me feel like a part of their family from day one. All the times I wished I could be for real, or that I had been from the start.
Yet I was. I am. We just didn't know it until now.
I didn't realize I was crying until Nate leaned towards me with concern. “Are you okay?”
I wiped my face and shook my head. “I... Nate, we...” I couldn't form words.
“I know... I know.” Our chairs were close enough that Nate leaned over and pulled me into a hug over the thin chair arms. Mine dug into my side a little but I didn't care. I leaned on his shoulder, and he spoke softly. “You were right, I didn't get it. I do now... I do.” The chair arm started to bother me, so I pulled away. Nate was grinning at me. “Everything's changed.”
Nate and I had lunch together, and talked. Now what? Should we talk to Ray? Both him and Debbie? Wait and do nothing? Nate thinks they have a right to know. I agreed, they do, especially Ray. Dad. I just didn't know if I could do it right away. I needed time to process the truth myself, much less drop it on them. Nate agreed to hold off for now.
As I drove myself back home, a lot of things fell into place in my head. I had been trying to figure out what all of this meant, ever since I read that letter. Who am I, really? No longer 'the park baby,' or the girl with no family, or 'the problem child' that no one could handle. I do have family. Two – Destrehan and Williamson. Three, if you could the one I created by marrying Tommy. But what did it all mean?
Am I just the sum of everything that's happened to me, or am I something more? Something else?
Can I choose?
Can I just... decide... to let go of all the baggage that accumulated from my childhood, and be something other than what I thought I had no choice but to become? In that thought, I think I finally found the answer to all the questions I had been struggling with. I'm not a product of how I grew up, nor am I just a combined version of the genetics that made me.
I am who and whatever I choose to be.
ON CAMERA
For the first time in my life, being chased by three men isn't the thrill I'm used to.
We find current SCW World Champion Kandis seated in a place most people would not expect. In an Ante Up training ring, perched on the top of a black ladder. It appears to be one of the taller ones, maybe fifteen feet. Dressed in short black tights and a bright blue halter top, she straddles the top of the ladder, one foot on each side resting on the top rung. She has the championship belt in hand.
The difference this time is that Asher Hayes, Simon Lyman, and Konrad Raab aren't chasing me to fuck me. They're chasing me to fuck me out of my championship. That's not the kind of fucking I like, guys. Not that I'd give any one of you the privilege.
Kandis shakes her head, a look of disgust on her face.
No, you're all fighting for the privilege to hold this....
Raising the belt a little, Kandis looks at it with admiration for a moment, then lowers it, keeping a tight grip lest she drop it off her lofty position.
I gotta be honest here, you guys are privileged just to be in this match trying to knock me down in the first place. I've already beat Konrad, and defended my championship against Asher and Simon! Before anyone tells me I only beat Asher by DQ thanks to Konrad, let's not pretend like I wasn't gonna kick his ass anyway. He wasn't exactly dragging me from pillar to post and getting nothing back. I put a hurting on that man and he knows it. He knows damn well I was this close to knocking him out for good! Instead of being mad at Konrad, he should thank him for saving him from being an unconscious embarrassment.
Speaking of embarrassments, Konrad Raab has entered the chat. This albatross here is only fucking with me now because I'm the World Champion. He can try to pretend otherwise but I'm not stupid and I don't think the fans are either. He's held a grudge against me for almost two years, and let it ferment, choosing his spot to fuck with me when it would affect me the most. I have to admit, Kon-kon, it's a pretty smart strategy. Jumping in when I already have two fuckos trying to dethrone me, adding more chaos to the mess, because chaos is your gig. Going on and on about how you don't care about the title, you just want to hurt me. I'm calling bullshit on that.
Kandis holds the belt up again.
Everyone wants this. And if you don't? Go home.
Lowering the belt once more, Kandis adjusts herself on the ladder top, maintaining her balance.
You're taking up space that could be filled by someone who has their sights set on being the best. But I think Konrad is trying to fool you all, or maybe fooling himself. He's never been this close to the World Championship before, and no matter what he says... I know that deep down, he wants it. If only to take it away from me.
Kandis shakes her head with a smirk.
That's not gonna happen.
Finally, we have Simon Lyman. I don't understand why the man is even in this match. I beat him clean two weeks ago on Breakdown! He has no justification to be here, other than continuing to piss Asher off and keep sticking himself in places he isn't wanted.
So, here we are, with these three men chasing me, two of them with some kind of alliance, Asher paying or otherwise bribing Konrad to keep fucking with me.
With a laugh, Kandis shakes her head.
Asher is just wasting money, Konrad would try to hurt me for free. But, whatever, not my business. Defending this championship is my business. And it doesn't matter if two of you team up, or all three of you team up against me. First of all... in case you forgot, this isn't a typical fatal fourway. Nah my dudes.... we're doing this the hard way.
Tables. Ladders. Chairs.
Using one hand for stability, Kandis rises to her feet, keeping them on he top rungs of the ladder, rather than trying to stand on the very top.
As you can see, I'm not afraid of standing up here anymore. I can't be, because I need to do this to grab this-
She holds the belt up high.
-from the sky over the ring. Can any of you really say you can get your decrepit asses up here and reach it?
Kandis places the belt on her shoulder, her balance steady.
Asher, with the bad back and knee, and desperation that ruins everything, every time he gets close to this. Simon, with his history, is climbing something fifteen feet in the air really a good idea for a man who a year ago couldn't walk properly without assistance? And Konrad... the oldest motherfucker in here. Yeah he's strong and violet and brutal, how long can he realistically last in this kind of environment? I don't think he can.
Sitting back down carefully, Kandis lays the belt over one leg to keep it secure.
See, the problem that the three of you have, is you're all trying to be something that you're not. Either you're doing it on purpose because you think you'll get ahead, or you're having an identity crisis. Listen, I get it. Identity is something I've struggled to come to terms with for most of my life. But guys... at some point you gotta wake up.
Asher. You've out here for months, fuck, years, trying to push yourself to be a World Champion. I've already told you, if you could do it, you would have already done it. I'm not trying to shit talk you either, okay? I've seen your list of accomplishments. Your career is legendary, you have nothing to hang your head over if you never hold the World Championship for real. So listen real close, okay my dude? You gotta let it go. You're pushing yourself for something you've never been able to do and you can't do. You're presenting yourself as World Championship material when all of your history shows that you're not. That's not a dig, it's just the way it is.
Kandis shrugs.
Konrad.... where do I even start with you, huh? You're out here trying to be a badass motherfucker, pulling out all the intimidation tricks. The weapons and the fire. All of that is a front. You can't fool me, I know you too well. You're trying to compensate for the fact that underneath it all, you're just a big crybaby who can't handle rejection. Eventually... you're gonna break down. Either physically because you're a crazy old man trying to do shit people half your age are doing... or mentally. When you realize that everyone sees through your shit and no longer fears you.
I saved the most ridiculous for last. Simon Lyman. Mr. Hero himself. We've already gone over this doll, SCW doesn't want or need what you're trying to shove down our throats. You might be the most delusional of the three, because I'm not sure you even realize that what you're doing is just covering for the fact that you know you're just a piece of shit who's pretended to be a good guy for so long that you can't keep up the facade anymore. We're not the ones who need a hero, Simon. You need one. You're looking to recapture your glory days - which I admit are impressive - but you don't want to face the fact that those days are behind you.
Kandis rises to her feet once more, the belt over her shoulder. She seems more steady on her feet atop the ladder than when she stood up before.
Then you have me. Get a good look. What you see is what you get. I've never tried to be something I'm not. I may have questioned what kind of person I am, I think everyone does that. But I've never seen the point in pretending. Its too much energy that can be better used for something more important. Being me is easy. I don't have to think about it, wonder how what I say will come across... because I just don't care. I'm a brash bitch, I love to fuck, and anyone who doesn't like anything about who I am can eat a bag of dicks, and choke on the last one.
I am and will always be exactly what you see... shamelessly me. And at Under Attack, I will still be SCW World Champion. You've all fucked around way too much and it's time to find out just how far I'm willing to go to keep what's mine. TLC doesn't scare me, it excites me. It's been a while since I've been in a match where there are no rules and I'm itching to go all out.
So go ahead. Throw your insults, call me Whore instead of my name, I don't care. You might as well just call me sweetheart or dear... calling me Whore is just another term of endearment. It's not an insult if I claim it. I am a whore, I've always been one. I'm a whore for living life to the fullest, for never denying any part of who or what I am, and I get paid with admiration, respect, and even a little jealousy... I admit I like that.
I'm a whore for this business. I get paid to put out entertainment and violence in this ring. I get money, sure, but I also get the adoration of all the people who the three of you like to claim deserve better. They don't need anyone to tell them what they need, want, or deserve. They decide that for themselves, and they've clearly decided they want me as SCW World Champion. They decided it last year when I got so many write votes for the End of the Year Title Shot that it was seven percent of all the votes. Y'all should have paid attention then.
Yes, I am a whore. I am their whore, and those people, that you all think you know what they want better than they do?
Kandis smirks, then holds the belt up high overhead, as if celebrating a win.
They love me.... for everything you hate me for.
Kandis uses her free hand to blow a kiss to the camera, then the shot zooms in and up on the belt in her hand, before fading out.