04-14-2024, 05:58 PM
(This post was last modified: 04-14-2024, 06:02 PM by CowgirlsFromHell.
Edit Reason: I messed up Cara's word colour. Sorry.
)
Strader Jet
Somewhere over the Midwest
April 4th, 2024
“I am so proud of them. They worked well together in the debut. Better than me and Megz debut. Dominant win. Megz will be sooooo proud of them.”
Tamika Strader, the Cowgirls manager and auntie, sits in her reclining chair with a tray over her lap where her MacBook sits. Between looking at the screen for motels/hotels for the Pay-Per-View and looking down on the fancy red carpet where Veronica plays with her daughter and Cara. Auntie Teebag can’t help but wonder where this team could be if they had started off on a better foot aka not throwing Cara off the top of the OCW Arena in Key West. But that didn’t matter now, what matters is the sisters have come together. Veronica looks at Cara, who is laying on her side, playing with some toy cars with the little one, and smiles to herself.
“That was fun tonight, Cara.”
“Yeah it was, bruh! And we be gettin’ a shot at a shot for the tag team titles!”
“Yeah, I honestly can’t believe it. I mean, I know how good we are individually, but to get this opportunity right away should tell us something.”
“It does: don’t get cocky, kid.”
Veronica, sitting cross legged, turns her head to look at her aunt.
“How long have you been waiting to bust out the Han Solo line?”
Tamika shrugs, and counts her fingers then at her watch.
“Depends which sun we are orbiting.”
“Wait, how many suns do we orbit?!”
Veronica smacks her forehead and shakes her head. She looks at her daughter.
“Punk, when you ever have a question, don’t ask your aunties, ok? The school system has failed them both. Mama is going to get you overqualified tutors and your Auntie Vee was Valedictorian, so ask her before Auntie Carebear or Auntie Teebag.”
The Baba Jaga feels a ball of paper hit her in the back of the head, and Cara casually flings what looks like a sock she was wearing for the debut match. It smells and drapes perfectly down over the top of her head, the big toe section on the tip of her nose. Tamika snorts while stifling her own laugh. Veronica shakes her head violently, sending the sock over near Tamika.
“Gross, Cara!”
“Hey! Whoever smelt it, dealt it, miha!"
“That doesn’t make sense. And you, don’t encourage her!”
“Sorry, just not the sequence of events I expect to happen. But oh my Yahweh, I can smell it from here! Cara, you need to see a podiatrist!”
“Listen bruh, there is nothing wrong with my ass, ok?”
Tamika cocks her head slightly and Veronica turns to look back at her and just shakes her head.
“It’s close enough.”
“Whatcha mean? My ass is amazin,’ homeskillet. Look!”
Cara pops up and Veronica quickly covers the Little One’s eyes just before Cara is mooning her sister and aunt.
“All this junk and toight likea tiger!”
“Cara! Impressionable eyes!”
She pulls up her pants and walks over to a candy dish by Tamika, grabbing a handful of big cola bottle candies. She casually counts them, shrugs and shoves them in her mouth. Cara successfully changes the situation from showing her ass to eating a ridiculous amount of edibles. Tamika closes her MacBook, and crosses her fingers together on top of it looking at her niece.
“How many did you just eat?”
“Bout ten. Why?”
“How much is that, milligram wise?”
Cara’s eye roll up and move side to side as if counting, her lips counting silently with it. She says “Carry the six to the parabola” and Veronica is laughing, holding her side as her Little One climbs on her, driving the cars on her.
“Roughly 1800.7565321 milligrams.”
“How do you even function? I eat two of those and suddenly Trevor Noah is funny.”
“Night Ranger starts to sound badass as well?”
“Hey, Sister Christian is an anthem!”
“Wait, Outcast is a sister?! Wasn’t expecting that one, bruhs.”
Veronica shakes her and stands up with her daughter in her arms as the little one plays with the platinum St. Christopher pendant around her neck. It was a gift from her very Catholic husband, Christian “Outcast” Cain, and it was for her travelling as the saint was the Patron Saint of Travelling. Tamika grabs a sippy-cup of chocolate milk from the fridge and hands it to her niece.
“Thank you.” She sits down on the brown leather couch opposite of the chair her aunt is sitting on as Cara sits in the one beside her. Veronica puts her little Punk down beside her, giving her the cup and makes content baby sounds. “So how did we end up getting this opportunity at the Pay-Per-View?”
“When I negotiated our contracts I requested that if management was impressed to give the team an opportunity to prove yourselves. You two did the hard part of that job and took it to the limits with a big win over a bonded and experienced team.”
“Carebear, we need to sit down tomorrow morning and get all the information we can on the teams we are facing. We know EFN now, but Team Desire, Ronin/Jones, and Body, Heart, & Soul we don’t know anything besides their names.”
“I’mma call my contact at the Pentagon and have some of those… what are those bruhs called… Drones! That’s it! Get some drones on their asses!”
“It’s Alice in Wonderland in that brain of yours isn’t it?”
“Not sure if bein’ rude or a compliment, bruh.”
“I’m not sure either, but I know it must be fun.”
“It really is, homeslice.”
Tamika chuckles listening to the sisters. It was almost like watching her and Meghan. The sisters were close and that is all they wanted for Veronica and Cara.
Victoria’s Childhood Home
Eldorado Avenue London, Ontario CA
February 5th, 2023
The last year had been tough for the Strader Matriarch and the family. She had been diagnosed with Pancreatic, Bone and Blood Cancer, all approaching Stage 3. It felt fitting to Meghan because whenever things have gone well for her, the universe likes to step in and say ‘not today.’ Her family had come together with her oldest kids. She was happily married and had beautiful twins with her husband. Veronica woke up out of her coma but Outcast was killed by his bastard son a month later.
Kristopholis Strader, the son of Ryan “Black Angel” Strader, felt his dad and their sect of the family tree were taken by Scott Nash Strader and his daughters with inheritance etcetera. Scott was the eldest and wasn’t born from an affair like Ryan had been. He was lucky Hannah Strader accepted the children fathered by her husband William and not of hers. The animosity had escalated to Kristopholis hatching a plan to kill his 2nd cousin and head of Strader Inc. This was done in order to swoop in, get the board to go public by paying them off and be voted in as CEO and COO.
The man hired was only known as “The Stalker” by Meghan and Tamika, as the rest of the family wasn’t aware of what was happening. Meghan knew Kris and his goons were dangerous and wasn’t about to let her husband or children get into the line of fire. Tamika only knew because she accidentally interrupted The Stalker the first time he tried to kill Meghan.
“Hope the babes aren’t giving you a hard time, Meeks.” Meghan looks at the screen of her iPhone 13-Mini that has a photo of her, and all her children and smiles. “Growing up without a mother… Thankfully the Twins will have Vee, Ronnie and Carebear plus Meeks, but what about them?”
creak…
Meghan knew all the sounds of the house. She had been living here for almost two years since her diagnosis at Victoria’s urging, and she watched over Veronica, who had been in a coma for six months, so she knew the creak she just heard was coming from the side door in the carport. Quietly, she pulls a filet knife from the wooden block on the counter.
“Not today!”
Meghan turns around, sending her right arm in a wild swing, catching The Stalker across his chest, slicing through the mechanic coveralls, piercing his skin. He grumbles loudly, and grabs her by the neck and runs the small of her back into the counter. He picks her up by the hair, dragging her into the front living room, and lawn darts her into the stone fireplace. He walks behind her, a small smile can be seen through the torn bottom of his mask. He goes to grab her again but Meghan still has the filet knife, and slashes at his throat. Enraged, The Stalker stabs her in a frenzy, thirteen times in total in her torso.
“See you in… Hell.”
One last slash across the neck before stabbing him in his Adam’s Apple. Meghan, bleeding profusely, manages to crawl, then stands to walk into the kitchen. She collapses in front of the sink. Not even a minute later, Tamika walks in through the side door and drops the bags of groceries she was carrying.
“MEGHAN!”
Tamika’s voice hits a high note not usually heard from the now Strader Matriarch as she bursts through the side door, up the three stairs into the kitchen that looks like a scene from a horror movie. Meghan leans back against the bottom cupboard underneath the kitchen sink. Her eyes open slowly, pulling apart from the blood covering her face. She looks up at her baby sister, and a smile appears across her pain filled face.
“Hey, Meeks. Sorry, you missed the party….”
“What happened?!”
Tamika almost slides into the cupboard Meghan is leaning against, taking her sister's blood filled left hand in hers, the diamond on her ring finger barely visible under the blood. Meghan closes her eyes for a few seconds, collecting her thoughts.
“Oh, that Stalker in the white mask decided to come by for tea. When I didn’t have crumpets, he decided stabbing me was the way to go… oh, well, I kinda lost count how many times he did.”
Meghan chuckles as Tamika’s face is filled with terror. She’s holding back tears, and gasping slightly.
“I’m gonna call an ambulance. We’ll get you hel- - -”
The body of the large man they had come to call The Stalker that had once tried to kill them when Tamika was defending the OCW Craze Championship against the monster, Sadie Ko, was now laying on the floor, a large filet knife sticking out of his neck. She shakes her head and looks at her sister in shock, but also not surprised. Meghan chuckles again.
“He’s having an issue swallowing and breathing. Quite the improvement, I would say….”
“Dumb bastard, he didn’t learn the first time. What can I do?”
“Grab the mercy kit from my nightstand, please.”
Tamika looks inside the living room at the large body of The Stalker, then heads to the master bedroom to grab the morphine kit provided by the family doctor. When Tamika returns, she pulls out her Italian 9mm, checking the clip before popping it back in and sliding back the chamber to cock her weapon. Kneeling down beside Meghan, she opens the kit and holds up the vile of the golden liquefied morphine, and takes a clean syringe out of its packaging.
“Megz, just hold on. We’ll take that pain away and get you medical attention.”
“Listen Meeks, I’m as done as a stuffed turkey on Thanksgiving, without all the fixings because they are leaking out of these pesky stabwounds…”
“You’ve always had a way with words….”
“One of the better traits I inherited from the old man. But in all seriousness, I am not doing too well, obviously. I can feel my days are about up… and I need to say this while I can.”
“You can tell me anything. What is it?”
Tamika strokes the inside of Meghan’s left forearm until a couple of veins pop up. Her emerald green eyes are fighting back the tears, trying to stay strong for her big sister. Meghan strains a smile while she finds Tamika’s hand and clenches it in both her bloody hands.
“I wasn’t supportive of you when you were Craze champ. I was jealous you achieved something that I never could. That wasn’t fair to you at all. Deep down, I hope you know how proud of you I was and still am. You had a lot put a lot on you, having you take over at S.I.”
“And tasking you with raising my little ones and putting the proverbial crown on your head making you the Matriarch but I want you to promise me three things….”
“Anything, Megz.”
“First, you are gonna get the company back. As strained as my relationship with dad was, he built that company for grandpa’s memory and you need to get it back from that half-blooded prick Kristopholis. It’s ours, not the bastard son of the bastard ‘Black Angel’ Ryan Strader.”
“Already have a plan in place, I promise you. Hold still, I’m going to ease your pain now.”
“I love you so much, Meeks.”
“I love you, too. Just take a breath.”
Tamika injects the morphine into Meghan’s vein and she can feel the warmth of the opiate pick her body up in a gentle cloud of relief. Her icy blue eyes are fading, but she knows time is fleeting.
“Second, you are gonna get a hold of Marcus and get your gig back in OCW and you are going to do what I failed at, and be a successful singles competitor that I never was. We all believe in you. And last, I need you to always believe in yourself all the time, not just the 87.2% like you enjoy saying. Understand me?”
“I understand, Megz. How are you feeling? Megz? MEGZ!”
The Strader Matriarch’s eyes close slowly, and Tamika can feel her body going limp. She frantically reaches for her phone, hitting the speed dial.
“Dr. Wilheim, it’s Tamika Strader. I need your people at the Eldorado home now! Please, hurry!”
The Whitehouse
Strader-Estate Houston, TX
April 5th, 2024
Meghan Strader-Kelser sits up in bed, in a cold sweat, Tamika’s words of “Please, hurry” rang through her ears. After swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she turns and looks at her sleeping husband, the legendary Dustin “Thunderwolf” Kelser, father of her youngest children, the twins Clay and Lizzie. They were named after his stepdad and her biological mother. He looks peaceful and content, something the family had said he hadn’t had when they all thought she died. Meghan knew Tamika had hated keeping it all from the family, but she didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up, including her own that her big sister, best friend and lifelong tag team partner could come out on the other side.
It wasn’t until Tamika admitted to Veronica her mom was alive because a mortal enemy of Veronica and her identical twin Victoria had taken her. Veronica could dimension hop through an unbelievable set of circumstances and the cyberpunk style dimension is where Veronica became her own person, and a story that will be told over time.
Meghan grabs her empty Stanley bottle and seemingly glides out of the room, light on her feet as to not to wake up anyone else. In the kitchen Meghan fills her bottle with a large Fiji Water and takes a swig. She looks at her reflection in the window above the sink, and notices Tamika has come into the kitchen.
“Can’t sleep?”
“Still not used to sharing my bed again, ya know?”
Meghan nods, sitting down at the kitchen table where Veronica had forgotten her soft pack of Marlboro Reds and matches. The sulphuric smell fills the air as the match head hisses to fiery life and the crackling of the cigarette paper burning fills Meghan’s ears. Tamika sits down after grabbing a Caramilk Chocolate Milk bottle.
“I can’t believe you are dating Mark Evans, Meeks. How is that going outside of the poor sleep?”
“After Simon and me couldn’t work it out, I wasn’t sure I’d see anyone. There was Sam Tolson, and I knew she slept with everybody with a pulse and was up front but sleeping with somebody who actively tried to ruin my career and Ronnie’s in OCW, I was hurt. I swore it all off and Mark showed up. I hadn’t seen him since Daddy’s funeral.”
“He was always a good guy. When I was managing Scott and Mark in High Impact Competition, he was a sweetheart to deal with. His comedic energy evened out Scott which made daddy dearest easier to deal with. I can see your glow and the extra hop in your step.”
Tamika takes a swig of her chocolate milk, and proceeds to twirl the bottle in front of herself.
“He’s a great guy, ya know? Mark treats me right. He’s awesome with Lil’Scottie. Gran can’t get enough of him. Just getting used to his teeth grinding.”
“Teeth grinding? That bad?”
“Oh yeah, sounds like giant rubber bands rubbing against each other. It’s wild. Why are you up?”
Meghan sighs, taking a sip of her water bottle.
“The same dream I’ve had since I’ve been back…”
“February 5th last year?”
Tamika extends her open palm across the table and Meghan takes it. Both sisters squeeze at the same time.
“I can still taste the copper and iron in the air from all the blood.”
“Me too, but you got this Megz. You are back where you belong, and we are all here for you. All of us.”
“I really don’t deserve any of you, you know that, right?”
“Pfft. You have always made time for all of us even when anyone else would say they were too busy. You have been not only the head of this family for twenty years but you have been a sister, a friend, and a mom to everyone else.”
“Thank you for saying that. I saw our girls debut. They did very well. How were they after?”
Tamika smiles proudly.
“They keep on bonding and were talking about researching their opponents without me having to suggest it but they have successful singles records, so it’s not a surprise to know they would. But, to do it together as a unit, is amazing to see. I’m gonna head up to the Ranch in the morning and see what they have come up with.”
Meghan holds up her water and toasts with Tamika.
“Shhh… do you hear that?”
To Be Continued...
Somewhere over the Midwest
April 4th, 2024
“I am so proud of them. They worked well together in the debut. Better than me and Megz debut. Dominant win. Megz will be sooooo proud of them.”
Tamika Strader, the Cowgirls manager and auntie, sits in her reclining chair with a tray over her lap where her MacBook sits. Between looking at the screen for motels/hotels for the Pay-Per-View and looking down on the fancy red carpet where Veronica plays with her daughter and Cara. Auntie Teebag can’t help but wonder where this team could be if they had started off on a better foot aka not throwing Cara off the top of the OCW Arena in Key West. But that didn’t matter now, what matters is the sisters have come together. Veronica looks at Cara, who is laying on her side, playing with some toy cars with the little one, and smiles to herself.
“That was fun tonight, Cara.”
“Yeah it was, bruh! And we be gettin’ a shot at a shot for the tag team titles!”
“Yeah, I honestly can’t believe it. I mean, I know how good we are individually, but to get this opportunity right away should tell us something.”
“It does: don’t get cocky, kid.”
Veronica, sitting cross legged, turns her head to look at her aunt.
“How long have you been waiting to bust out the Han Solo line?”
Tamika shrugs, and counts her fingers then at her watch.
“Depends which sun we are orbiting.”
“Wait, how many suns do we orbit?!”
Veronica smacks her forehead and shakes her head. She looks at her daughter.
“Punk, when you ever have a question, don’t ask your aunties, ok? The school system has failed them both. Mama is going to get you overqualified tutors and your Auntie Vee was Valedictorian, so ask her before Auntie Carebear or Auntie Teebag.”
The Baba Jaga feels a ball of paper hit her in the back of the head, and Cara casually flings what looks like a sock she was wearing for the debut match. It smells and drapes perfectly down over the top of her head, the big toe section on the tip of her nose. Tamika snorts while stifling her own laugh. Veronica shakes her head violently, sending the sock over near Tamika.
“Gross, Cara!”
“Hey! Whoever smelt it, dealt it, miha!"
“That doesn’t make sense. And you, don’t encourage her!”
“Sorry, just not the sequence of events I expect to happen. But oh my Yahweh, I can smell it from here! Cara, you need to see a podiatrist!”
“Listen bruh, there is nothing wrong with my ass, ok?”
Tamika cocks her head slightly and Veronica turns to look back at her and just shakes her head.
“It’s close enough.”
“Whatcha mean? My ass is amazin,’ homeskillet. Look!”
Cara pops up and Veronica quickly covers the Little One’s eyes just before Cara is mooning her sister and aunt.
“All this junk and toight likea tiger!”
“Cara! Impressionable eyes!”
She pulls up her pants and walks over to a candy dish by Tamika, grabbing a handful of big cola bottle candies. She casually counts them, shrugs and shoves them in her mouth. Cara successfully changes the situation from showing her ass to eating a ridiculous amount of edibles. Tamika closes her MacBook, and crosses her fingers together on top of it looking at her niece.
“How many did you just eat?”
“Bout ten. Why?”
“How much is that, milligram wise?”
Cara’s eye roll up and move side to side as if counting, her lips counting silently with it. She says “Carry the six to the parabola” and Veronica is laughing, holding her side as her Little One climbs on her, driving the cars on her.
“Roughly 1800.7565321 milligrams.”
“How do you even function? I eat two of those and suddenly Trevor Noah is funny.”
“Night Ranger starts to sound badass as well?”
“Hey, Sister Christian is an anthem!”
“Wait, Outcast is a sister?! Wasn’t expecting that one, bruhs.”
Veronica shakes her and stands up with her daughter in her arms as the little one plays with the platinum St. Christopher pendant around her neck. It was a gift from her very Catholic husband, Christian “Outcast” Cain, and it was for her travelling as the saint was the Patron Saint of Travelling. Tamika grabs a sippy-cup of chocolate milk from the fridge and hands it to her niece.
“Thank you.” She sits down on the brown leather couch opposite of the chair her aunt is sitting on as Cara sits in the one beside her. Veronica puts her little Punk down beside her, giving her the cup and makes content baby sounds. “So how did we end up getting this opportunity at the Pay-Per-View?”
“When I negotiated our contracts I requested that if management was impressed to give the team an opportunity to prove yourselves. You two did the hard part of that job and took it to the limits with a big win over a bonded and experienced team.”
“Carebear, we need to sit down tomorrow morning and get all the information we can on the teams we are facing. We know EFN now, but Team Desire, Ronin/Jones, and Body, Heart, & Soul we don’t know anything besides their names.”
“I’mma call my contact at the Pentagon and have some of those… what are those bruhs called… Drones! That’s it! Get some drones on their asses!”
“It’s Alice in Wonderland in that brain of yours isn’t it?”
“Not sure if bein’ rude or a compliment, bruh.”
“I’m not sure either, but I know it must be fun.”
“It really is, homeslice.”
Tamika chuckles listening to the sisters. It was almost like watching her and Meghan. The sisters were close and that is all they wanted for Veronica and Cara.
Victoria’s Childhood Home
Eldorado Avenue London, Ontario CA
February 5th, 2023
The last year had been tough for the Strader Matriarch and the family. She had been diagnosed with Pancreatic, Bone and Blood Cancer, all approaching Stage 3. It felt fitting to Meghan because whenever things have gone well for her, the universe likes to step in and say ‘not today.’ Her family had come together with her oldest kids. She was happily married and had beautiful twins with her husband. Veronica woke up out of her coma but Outcast was killed by his bastard son a month later.
Kristopholis Strader, the son of Ryan “Black Angel” Strader, felt his dad and their sect of the family tree were taken by Scott Nash Strader and his daughters with inheritance etcetera. Scott was the eldest and wasn’t born from an affair like Ryan had been. He was lucky Hannah Strader accepted the children fathered by her husband William and not of hers. The animosity had escalated to Kristopholis hatching a plan to kill his 2nd cousin and head of Strader Inc. This was done in order to swoop in, get the board to go public by paying them off and be voted in as CEO and COO.
The man hired was only known as “The Stalker” by Meghan and Tamika, as the rest of the family wasn’t aware of what was happening. Meghan knew Kris and his goons were dangerous and wasn’t about to let her husband or children get into the line of fire. Tamika only knew because she accidentally interrupted The Stalker the first time he tried to kill Meghan.
“Hope the babes aren’t giving you a hard time, Meeks.” Meghan looks at the screen of her iPhone 13-Mini that has a photo of her, and all her children and smiles. “Growing up without a mother… Thankfully the Twins will have Vee, Ronnie and Carebear plus Meeks, but what about them?”
creak…
Meghan knew all the sounds of the house. She had been living here for almost two years since her diagnosis at Victoria’s urging, and she watched over Veronica, who had been in a coma for six months, so she knew the creak she just heard was coming from the side door in the carport. Quietly, she pulls a filet knife from the wooden block on the counter.
“Not today!”
Meghan turns around, sending her right arm in a wild swing, catching The Stalker across his chest, slicing through the mechanic coveralls, piercing his skin. He grumbles loudly, and grabs her by the neck and runs the small of her back into the counter. He picks her up by the hair, dragging her into the front living room, and lawn darts her into the stone fireplace. He walks behind her, a small smile can be seen through the torn bottom of his mask. He goes to grab her again but Meghan still has the filet knife, and slashes at his throat. Enraged, The Stalker stabs her in a frenzy, thirteen times in total in her torso.
“See you in… Hell.”
One last slash across the neck before stabbing him in his Adam’s Apple. Meghan, bleeding profusely, manages to crawl, then stands to walk into the kitchen. She collapses in front of the sink. Not even a minute later, Tamika walks in through the side door and drops the bags of groceries she was carrying.
“MEGHAN!”
Tamika’s voice hits a high note not usually heard from the now Strader Matriarch as she bursts through the side door, up the three stairs into the kitchen that looks like a scene from a horror movie. Meghan leans back against the bottom cupboard underneath the kitchen sink. Her eyes open slowly, pulling apart from the blood covering her face. She looks up at her baby sister, and a smile appears across her pain filled face.
“Hey, Meeks. Sorry, you missed the party….”
“What happened?!”
Tamika almost slides into the cupboard Meghan is leaning against, taking her sister's blood filled left hand in hers, the diamond on her ring finger barely visible under the blood. Meghan closes her eyes for a few seconds, collecting her thoughts.
“Oh, that Stalker in the white mask decided to come by for tea. When I didn’t have crumpets, he decided stabbing me was the way to go… oh, well, I kinda lost count how many times he did.”
Meghan chuckles as Tamika’s face is filled with terror. She’s holding back tears, and gasping slightly.
“I’m gonna call an ambulance. We’ll get you hel- - -”
The body of the large man they had come to call The Stalker that had once tried to kill them when Tamika was defending the OCW Craze Championship against the monster, Sadie Ko, was now laying on the floor, a large filet knife sticking out of his neck. She shakes her head and looks at her sister in shock, but also not surprised. Meghan chuckles again.
“He’s having an issue swallowing and breathing. Quite the improvement, I would say….”
“Dumb bastard, he didn’t learn the first time. What can I do?”
“Grab the mercy kit from my nightstand, please.”
Tamika looks inside the living room at the large body of The Stalker, then heads to the master bedroom to grab the morphine kit provided by the family doctor. When Tamika returns, she pulls out her Italian 9mm, checking the clip before popping it back in and sliding back the chamber to cock her weapon. Kneeling down beside Meghan, she opens the kit and holds up the vile of the golden liquefied morphine, and takes a clean syringe out of its packaging.
“Megz, just hold on. We’ll take that pain away and get you medical attention.”
“Listen Meeks, I’m as done as a stuffed turkey on Thanksgiving, without all the fixings because they are leaking out of these pesky stabwounds…”
“You’ve always had a way with words….”
“One of the better traits I inherited from the old man. But in all seriousness, I am not doing too well, obviously. I can feel my days are about up… and I need to say this while I can.”
“You can tell me anything. What is it?”
Tamika strokes the inside of Meghan’s left forearm until a couple of veins pop up. Her emerald green eyes are fighting back the tears, trying to stay strong for her big sister. Meghan strains a smile while she finds Tamika’s hand and clenches it in both her bloody hands.
“I wasn’t supportive of you when you were Craze champ. I was jealous you achieved something that I never could. That wasn’t fair to you at all. Deep down, I hope you know how proud of you I was and still am. You had a lot put a lot on you, having you take over at S.I.”
“And tasking you with raising my little ones and putting the proverbial crown on your head making you the Matriarch but I want you to promise me three things….”
“Anything, Megz.”
“First, you are gonna get the company back. As strained as my relationship with dad was, he built that company for grandpa’s memory and you need to get it back from that half-blooded prick Kristopholis. It’s ours, not the bastard son of the bastard ‘Black Angel’ Ryan Strader.”
“Already have a plan in place, I promise you. Hold still, I’m going to ease your pain now.”
“I love you so much, Meeks.”
“I love you, too. Just take a breath.”
Tamika injects the morphine into Meghan’s vein and she can feel the warmth of the opiate pick her body up in a gentle cloud of relief. Her icy blue eyes are fading, but she knows time is fleeting.
“Second, you are gonna get a hold of Marcus and get your gig back in OCW and you are going to do what I failed at, and be a successful singles competitor that I never was. We all believe in you. And last, I need you to always believe in yourself all the time, not just the 87.2% like you enjoy saying. Understand me?”
“I understand, Megz. How are you feeling? Megz? MEGZ!”
The Strader Matriarch’s eyes close slowly, and Tamika can feel her body going limp. She frantically reaches for her phone, hitting the speed dial.
“Dr. Wilheim, it’s Tamika Strader. I need your people at the Eldorado home now! Please, hurry!”
The Whitehouse
Strader-Estate Houston, TX
April 5th, 2024
Meghan Strader-Kelser sits up in bed, in a cold sweat, Tamika’s words of “Please, hurry” rang through her ears. After swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she turns and looks at her sleeping husband, the legendary Dustin “Thunderwolf” Kelser, father of her youngest children, the twins Clay and Lizzie. They were named after his stepdad and her biological mother. He looks peaceful and content, something the family had said he hadn’t had when they all thought she died. Meghan knew Tamika had hated keeping it all from the family, but she didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up, including her own that her big sister, best friend and lifelong tag team partner could come out on the other side.
It wasn’t until Tamika admitted to Veronica her mom was alive because a mortal enemy of Veronica and her identical twin Victoria had taken her. Veronica could dimension hop through an unbelievable set of circumstances and the cyberpunk style dimension is where Veronica became her own person, and a story that will be told over time.
Meghan grabs her empty Stanley bottle and seemingly glides out of the room, light on her feet as to not to wake up anyone else. In the kitchen Meghan fills her bottle with a large Fiji Water and takes a swig. She looks at her reflection in the window above the sink, and notices Tamika has come into the kitchen.
“Can’t sleep?”
“Still not used to sharing my bed again, ya know?”
Meghan nods, sitting down at the kitchen table where Veronica had forgotten her soft pack of Marlboro Reds and matches. The sulphuric smell fills the air as the match head hisses to fiery life and the crackling of the cigarette paper burning fills Meghan’s ears. Tamika sits down after grabbing a Caramilk Chocolate Milk bottle.
“I can’t believe you are dating Mark Evans, Meeks. How is that going outside of the poor sleep?”
“After Simon and me couldn’t work it out, I wasn’t sure I’d see anyone. There was Sam Tolson, and I knew she slept with everybody with a pulse and was up front but sleeping with somebody who actively tried to ruin my career and Ronnie’s in OCW, I was hurt. I swore it all off and Mark showed up. I hadn’t seen him since Daddy’s funeral.”
“He was always a good guy. When I was managing Scott and Mark in High Impact Competition, he was a sweetheart to deal with. His comedic energy evened out Scott which made daddy dearest easier to deal with. I can see your glow and the extra hop in your step.”
Tamika takes a swig of her chocolate milk, and proceeds to twirl the bottle in front of herself.
“He’s a great guy, ya know? Mark treats me right. He’s awesome with Lil’Scottie. Gran can’t get enough of him. Just getting used to his teeth grinding.”
“Teeth grinding? That bad?”
“Oh yeah, sounds like giant rubber bands rubbing against each other. It’s wild. Why are you up?”
Meghan sighs, taking a sip of her water bottle.
“The same dream I’ve had since I’ve been back…”
“February 5th last year?”
Tamika extends her open palm across the table and Meghan takes it. Both sisters squeeze at the same time.
“I can still taste the copper and iron in the air from all the blood.”
“Me too, but you got this Megz. You are back where you belong, and we are all here for you. All of us.”
“I really don’t deserve any of you, you know that, right?”
“Pfft. You have always made time for all of us even when anyone else would say they were too busy. You have been not only the head of this family for twenty years but you have been a sister, a friend, and a mom to everyone else.”
“Thank you for saying that. I saw our girls debut. They did very well. How were they after?”
Tamika smiles proudly.
“They keep on bonding and were talking about researching their opponents without me having to suggest it but they have successful singles records, so it’s not a surprise to know they would. But, to do it together as a unit, is amazing to see. I’m gonna head up to the Ranch in the morning and see what they have come up with.”
Meghan holds up her water and toasts with Tamika.
“Shhh… do you hear that?”
To Be Continued...