020

Kaitlynn Stryfe stood in the shadows of the Laredo Energy Center, watching her ex-husband verbally spar with his upcoming opponents for SVW's Climax. She waited there in her hiding place as Colleen and Leo Apollo walked away, leaving Jackson alone. Then she finally made her move, following him towards the door at the end of the hall— she'd known him for eleven years— she knew where he was headed. When he propped open the exit door with his foot and slipped the cigarette between his lips she reached out to lay a hand on his arm.

"What do you want, Kitty?" His voice stopped her in mid-motion, making her wonder how he knew. He answered the question before she could even ask it. "Still wearing Charlie even after all these years. Guess the more things change, the more they stay the same, huh?"

She should have known that he smelled her perfume. He'd always been weird like that. She chuckled self-consciously, stuffing her hands into the pockets of the purple and black leopard-print hoodie she was wearing. "You know me," she said softly, "I like what I like."

He took a long drag off the cigarette after lighting it and exhaled with a sigh. "So, what's this all about? Your husband pissed at me for not playing up his secret agenda more?"

She frowned, puzzled. "Huh… what?"

"That little snore-fest of a confrontation we just had there. Figured King Stryfe was a little pissed over that. Maybe he sent you here to tell me I'm doing it wrong like everyone else does." He sounded bitter.

"No," her eyes darted away from his as she looked around, "are you here alone or is Lyv with you?"

"She's at the hotel," he replied slowly, "sleeping off the jetlag. We were in Austria… caught the redeye back so I could show up." Now that she was close to him, she could see how exhausted he looked. "Haven't slept since I wrestled seven other guys and won— forgive me if I'm not in the mood to dance around whatever in the hell's on your mind."

"Oh," the word was more an exhalation as she bit her lip, "I just… I need to talk to you. Can we go somewhere a bit more private?"

He was about to turn her down when he saw the look in her eyes. Despite the awkwardness between them, he could still read her moods. She looked worried— maybe even frightened. "Sure. My rental's parked out back." He moved his foot, swinging the door open further so she could step out.

She followed him in silence to the black sedan, feeling a strange sense of nostalgia to see that he was still driving only black cars. He pulled out the key and pressed the button to unlock the doors. Dutifully, she rounded the car and go into the passenger seat, not speaking until the door shut. Then she turned and tucked one foot under her knee, resting her hand on his thigh. "Brad, I need a favor and this is something you really can't shoot down, alright? If you can't help me, I'm screwed and I owe this to Alex—"

His eyes were firmly fixed on her hand that was touching his leg. "I don't think I like this much. Prob'ly gonna regret this, aren't I?"

She didn't bother to answer that, instead pushing ahead. "You still have your contacts, don't you? Lyashenko and—"

She broke off mid-sentence when his hand closed over her wrist, squeezing hard as he lifted her hand and threw it off his leg. "No."

"Shit," she muttered, rubbing her aching bones with her other hand. "Brad, I'm serious. I need you to ask around. I need you to use your contacts to find out what you can about a hit man that might have been hired to shoot Gambini."

"I thought Megan Parker did that?" He shook his head, not really caring about the drama that he'd managed to keep relatively clear of, despite the fact that he'd been brought into SVW as Gambini's stooge.

"Gambini cleared her. And the footage that Alex has makes it look like it was Jacob— he was the last one to go into that room. And… you can't see anything on the tape. Nobody can pull an image off of it. But there was a man backstage by the name of Marcus Petrillo," she frowned for a second, "no… wait. Marco. Marco Petrillo. I need you to dig into this, Brad. You're Jacob's only hope. If he goes to jail…" she sighed, looking away from him. "We can't let that happen. I promised Alex I would do all I could to help."

"What's in it for me, Kitty? You want me to stick my neck out… you want me to dredge up what I can on this guy; it's going to compromise me. That's gonna put me back on the grid—"

"Fifty-thousand," she whispered, "I'll give you my rainy day savings, alright? Please, Brad. I need you."

"Long time ago, I might've responded to that, but when you say you need me now… I don't feel a damn thing." He chuckled softly, looking out the windshield at the parking lot of the Laredo Energy Center. "I do this for you, we're square, alright? You'll forget all about who I was when we met." He fell silent for a moment, grinding his teeth together. "Did you tell your husband about this? Did you tell him I'm an ex-spook?"

She shook her head. "No. And I won't tell him where I got the information if you don't want me to. I promise, Brad. Just do this for me as quickly as you can." Before he could reply or back out, she opened the door and got out of the car.

He watched her walk back towards the arena in silence, wishing he'd been able to shoot her down. He had a very bad feeling about this.