chapter ten

May 22, 2012 (off camera)

Bruce McLeod was pissed off. Arms folded across his chest, he slumped in the chair with his eyes fastened on the door. A ragged toothpick was clamped between his lips, the end being ground to a pulpy mass as his teeth clenched together. For some bizarre reason, he was still here, still working at Ragnarok, despite the fact that the club had been sold to CJ Osborne— some friend of Jackson's from that Wisconsin-based federation. For some unknown reason, the scruffy Scot was still playing the part of Jackson's lackey, despite the obvious resentment. The goddamned bastard wanted someone to play the part of 'eyes and ears', making sure his baby was safe, lest he had to swoop back in and snatch it from the jaws of mismanagement.

His fingers drummed on the table, restless motions. When the cat's away, the mouse will play. The place was all but deserted this early in the evening, only the usual die-hard alcoholics were bellied up to the bar. Nothing noteworthy. Totally boring.

That was when the door opened, and everything about the night changed, at least for McLeod. Kasey Summers stepped through into the gloom, sweeping into the bar like a breath of fresh air just as Def Leppard's Hysteria kicked on over the speakers in the room behind him. Talk about an entrance.

A crooked smile curved his lips as he looked her over. Hot body. Cute face. She looked good. Tired, but still hot enough to outshine any other woman he'd laid eyes on in the last few hours. Young enough to pique his interest any day of the week. Then she turned and he muttered a few choice words to himself. Her hair wasn't the red he remembered but it was definitely Billy Starr's niece. 

Kasey's eyes drifted over the deserted interior of the bar as she ran her hand over her neck in a futile attempt to massage the tension away. She wasn't even sure why she'd come here, and once her eyes locked on the lecherous gaze of McLeod, she instantly regretted it. She let her arm fall back to her side as she stared at him. "Uh, hello? Are you the security guy or something?"

McLeod said nothing for a moment, his thoughts plain on his face. "Aye," he said with a small smile quirking the corners of his lips, "guess yeh'd better show me some plastic, lass."

Instantly she began digging through the pockets of her bondage pants, looking for her credentials. Finally, she pulled her ID from her back pocket and slapped it down on the table. "I'm legal age, creepazoid— read it and weep. Listen, is Jackson here?"

McLeod shook his head, "if he was, I wouldn't be. He sold the place, babylove. Am guessin' you're a wee bit outta the loop?"

"Sonuva-" she exhaled sharply as her eyes met his. All signs of amusing small talk had vanished. "I need to talk to him and... I've tried to call him a couple times. He didn't answer." She breathed in deeply to try and calm herself down.

"He was wrestlin' in the UK," McLeod offered, slipping a cigarette between those grinning lips and lighting it, "prob'ly didnae want ta swallow the roamin' fees."

Kasey tried not to look at him, finding those deep scars in his cheeks vaguely unsettling. "Oh," she said lamely, trying to think of the right words to explain what she needed. Maybe this man could help her. "Do you think that you could get him a message for me? Or..." she let the words hang, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

"Or?" He was relishing the look on her face. Oh the fun he could have with this one.

"Never mind," she mumbled, "I just need to talk to Jax. There's been some weird stuff going on. Some really messed up rumors about me stealing titles for SVW and then Lex came back and warned me that Kyle might not be what I think he is and then there was a really weird message I read on his phone and Idon'tknowwhattodo!" The last few words were squeezed into the same breath before she broke off, twisting her hands together in consternation. "I just... I need his advice. I don't know who else I can trust."

"Hmmm," he paused to consider the plea, "an' yeh want me ta poke around?"

"Y'know, maybe I'll just try calling Jax again," she said with an embarrassed laugh. "I just don't really know you an' nothing personal, but..."

The smile remained in place on his lips, "aye, lass. I ken." His thumb bumped the butt of his cigarette as he let the ashes fall into the black plastic ashtray on the table. "I'll call Jackie-boy if yeh want. Go right on back into th'office an' give 'im a ringy-ding."

"Really? You'd do that?" She bounced on the balls of her feet, overjoyed while McLeod enjoyed the view.

"Whatever it takes, eh?" McLeod nodded, looking her over. "Are yeh sure yeh wanna know?"

"I wouldn't be within five feet of this place if I didn't," she muttered, watching him stand up.

He stretched and then turned his back to her, beckoning for her to follow. "C'mon, baby love. Let's give loverboy a call."

"He-" Kasey sputtered, flushing bright red. "Ew, no. He's not my lover! Kyle is!" Her last words came in a lull between songs, making every head turn in their direction.

Rolling his eyes, McLeod took her by the arm and dragged her the rest of the way to the unmarked door that led back to the office. Once it was safely shut behind them, he shoved her against the wall. "Wait here. It's clear yeh can't keep that trap shut long enough tae make a civil call-"

"I can, too!" She protested, but he was already gone. A door slammed down the hall.

---

It was mid afternoon in Reno and Jackson was sitting behind the desk in his home office, buried in a mountain of paperwork when the phone started ringing. His headache was growing by leaps and bounds after dealing with the incessant bullshit on Twitter coupled with an upcoming trip to Florida— to say he wasn't in the best mood was a real understatement.

Paperwork covered his desk. Bills. Ledgers. Stacks of invoices, and cancelled checks. Amid all that chaos, he sat, rubbing his temples. That was when his wife appeared in the doorway, the cordless phone in her hand and a slight furrow to her brow despite the smile on her lips. "McLeod's on the phone for you," she sounded puzzled as she crossed the room, holding it out towards him. They both knew that McLeod usually called on Jackson's cell phone when he did call— that was abnormal in and of itself. Normally the Scot opted to fire off garbled text messages rather than speak over the airwaves. The fact that he was calling the landline meant that something serious was up.

Jackson sighed, "I'm sure this'll be wonderful," he grumbled as he took the receiver from his wife's outstretched hand. "Jackson here," he snapped the words, expecting something horrible.

"Jackie-boy? Aunt Mary's been askin' after yeh."

The tone of his voice was immediately unmistakable, bringing that familiar furrow between Jackson's dark brows. The words were code, asking him if the line was secure. Something was definitely up. "Tell that withered old bitch I said hello. What's up, Bruce?"

"Somethin' weird's goin on. Starr's niece is here, askin' after ya."

"What? What the hell is Kasey doing there?" He said the words despite the fact that he kinda had a suspicion he knew— he'd ignored a few calls from her over the weekend. Jackson sighed, rolling his eyes. "What is it now, a boogeyman under her bed? God, I don't have time to deal with whatever in the hell that kid's problem is." Lyv leaned against the desk, her eyes fixed on her husband as he lifted a hand to silence her. "Bruce, I don't have time for this shit. Put her on the phone and tell her she has ONE minute to tell me what the fuck she wants. You dig?"

There was a rattle on the other end that was loud enough to make Jackson wince and then he heard Kasey's outraged shriek "OW! That hurt, you psycho!" There was another rattle and then her voice came through to Jackson's ear, sounding tentative. "Uhm, hello? Jax?"

"Yeah, what's up?" He tried to sound nice, despite the fact that he was still scowling. "More advice?"

"Yeah, I guess... I just... uhm... this is awkward. I kinda did something I shouldn't have and now... I don't know what to do."

"And?" God, it was worse than pulling teeth with this girl. If she'd been here in person, he would have grabbed her and shook her hard.

"You know Anthony Gambini, right?" The question came out of the blue, "I mean, I thought I remembered you saying that you got that job in SVW because of him-"

"Yeah," he cut her off with a brusque tone, "I know him. So does your boyfriend and everyone else who was with SVW back at the first of the year."

"Uhm..." he could picture her shifting back and forth while she bit her lip, "does he have a little brother?"

"How the hell should I know?" Jackson snapped, "not like I hung out with him. It was a business arrangement, kid."

"Oh," she sounded crestfallen, "well can you find out?"

The scowl deepened, "why?"

"Just... can you? Find out and let me know, okay? Something weird's going on and..." there was a rustling on the other end followed by the sound of a cell phone vibrating. "Shit," she muttered, sounding scared, "I gotta go, Jax. Just find out and text me or something."

"Consider it done," Jackson's reply was brief, but he was talking to nothing but a dial tone. Shaking his head, he turned off the phone and dropped it on his desk, muttering to himself, "well that was fucking weird..."