Truth

Autumn was in its death throes, Eau Claire unseasonably warm, day eaten and snatched away by the onset of early Monday night. Mlem mlem mlem no more, yet the result of defeating FLAMBERGE, on standing pinnacle even amongst living nightmares, gave Brandon faint solace. A mind elsewhere. A month to go before Colossus. Too far, the future. East Hill at Fenwick and Harlem, three houses down from the corner. A single floor brick ranch home choking within a city’s limits. Light poured through the blinds of the Covington household, the driveway filled with both a sedan and pick-up. Youngblood sat parked on the street, his fingers wrapped around the grooved leather of the steering wheel of his half-ton. Black henley and jeans. A simple ensemble.

Five minutes. Electricity ebbed through his knuckles, his mouth run dry. Adrenaline. So often, when true dark crept within, the anxiety and panic grew to be overwhelming. In the past such gummy sensations would overtake and rule him.

Not here.

Not on this night.

Kill the ignition and push open the door, and from first footfall, he was guided with purpose. His approach brought the floodlight to life, illuminating the walkway to the front door. When he arrived, there was no hesitation as the heel of his hand rapped against fiberglass outside the center arch. A light step audible from the other side. The door opened. Melissa. The band of her magnifier headset was wormed through her ring and middle fingers. A woven striped long sleeve t-shirt, tunic length. Black joggers and ankle socks. Comfortable. Her expression strained upon seeing him. “I tried calling you over and over the last few days. Straight to voicemail every time. I know things are hectic this time of year, and with everything going on at work, in PRIME–”

Expressionless, he cut her off. “Travis here?”

For a moment, a pause. A beat skipped. It didn’t take long to get back on track. “Yeah. He’s in the garage working on some axe handles.” Turning around and walking back inside, she left the door open. “I’m sorry. We should be congratulating you. You worked hard, and that’s not lost on me. On any of us–”

Invitation or expectation of entrance, it didn’t matter; he traced behind her, eyes scanning not the hardwood and coffered ceiling but the bedrooms for occupancy. Taciet security sweep training. Doors opened. Lights off. It was just the three of them.

“--is serious. Did Cody say anything to you? Do you know anything about it? Jesus, Brandon, if you say you don’t know and I find out you are lying to me–”

Stopped dead in his tracks between hallway and the kitchen. Jaw clenched. Brows furrowed.

She didn’t see. Rather, she reached from the pile of packets littered about the kitchen island. “Penn State. Ohio State. Minnesota. Wisconsin. Oklahoma State.” Each folder, tossed caustically across the marble veneer, all save for one, held tightly to the chest before being slammed down with emphasis. Her trump card. “Iowa, Brandon. He wants to follow in his father’s footsteps. Why not start there, huh? Wrestle for Iowa, just like you did? And there’s the NIL money, on top of the scholarships, and he can get a damn education and–”

“Tell Travis he needs to go.”

Her entire diatribe came without even a glimpse in his direction, until now. “Maybe if he hears what we have to–”

Guttural, from deep within. “Now.”

“Excuse me?”

“You need to tell him to leave and not come back until we’re done.”

Her shoulders tensed, her neck recoiling as sourness spread through her cheeks. Defensive. She knew this tone, yet it had been so long, she’d forgotten what it felt like to have it aimed at herself. She wasn’t the same woman she was then. After everything he’d done, how much she had to rebuild, there was no way she’d let this stand. The words snapped from her lips in a snarl. “Who the fuck do you think you are talking to me like that?”

Brandon had spent years hollow, not with just reckoning with death, but craving his own. Guilt. Shame. His remorse was bottomless. He’d traveled a world away to hurt himself. To live in misery.  Beating her. Forever a stain. Something unable to be taken back. She wasn’t the only one who bore such brunt. Cody. His unborn son. Dying, for him, would’ve been an easy escape. Instead, his true punishment came in penance. The scar tissue was there, but the wound had healed. All those times, her dogmatic adherence to her creed; Cody never needs to learn about the truth of that night. He reached into his pocket for his phone. His thumb tapped across the screen in unlock; he didn’t even need to look down, the path was so practiced. Just press play.

“I TOLD YOU EVERYTHING MELISSA! EVERYTHING! AND IT DIDN’T STOP YOU! IT DIDN’T STOP YOU! I COULDN’T STOP YOU AND YOU RAPED ME JUST LIKE HE DID! AFTER EVERYTHING MY FATHER DID, HOW COULD YOU–”

All color drained from her body. All oxygen, gone. A meekness as that call from that night continued on. No. Oh God Oh God Oh God!

Rage bellowed from his nostrils as his head tilted faintly, his eyes focused solely on her. His confirmation was lacquered with bile. “Yeah.”

For moments, her body was frozen, her mouth agape as her eyes began to water and tremble. The band of her magnifiers fell from her shaking fingertips. “How did you...” but she paused involuntarily, the question catching in her throat. Fist drawn to her lips, she coughed it free. “How did you find that?”

Brandon took a step forward, the pad of his thumb ending the echo of their ordeal, the phone disappearing back in his pocket. He stood at the perimeter of the island, arms pressed against his sides, his back ramrod straight. He struggled uncomfortably with what to do with the nervous tension filtering through his limbs. A glower of fury. “Tell him he needs to leave.”

“You need to–”

“I don’t give a shit–”

“--give me an–”

“--what you tell him–”

“--explanation to–”

“--get him. Out. Of here. Now.” The timbre of a battering ram. Deliberate. Forceful. “You don’t get to ask questions. Not now. Not anymore.”

A haunting spectre, her fear rising, but she wasn’t that same woman anymore, and he had lost all right to cull such terror from her. No matter his strength. No matter his size. “And what are you going to do?” Indignation spit upon growing tension. It was time to extinguish this fuse. “Huh? You going to hit me again? Put me in the ground this time? Well?” Courage lilted as she advanced. “I’m not scared of you Brandon. You’re not going to take me back to that night–”

“How. Fucking. Dare you.” His eyes bulged, disdain etched across his features. “What do you think I am–”

“I KNOW what you–”

“--YOU don’t know WHO I am.” His shoulders coiled, readying to strike. ”Don’t you DARE–”

“Dare what? Huh?”

“You STOLE my life from me–”

“Keep it down–”

“I TOLD you to get him out of here–”

“He’s going to hear you–”

“I GAVE you the choice, Melissa. We do this. Me and you. Just me and you–”

“So you can hit me–”

“Are you going to RAPE me again?!” His finger stabbed in her direction, liquidating all sense of haughtiness. “Going to burn cigarettes into me? Beat me and my brothers and tell me I’m a useless piece of shit? You had a bad day in the oil fields and you want to go home and make everything you touch rot and want to die–”

She backpedaled. What was she saying? What was she doing? Frantic, she tried to gather herself as his words pierced her to her core. “I’m sorry–”

“You’re worse than my father.” The tears had already erupted from his bloodshot eyes. “At least I knew...with him...what was coming. And I could try to steel myself for it. But you–”

“I’ll go get him–”

“--you destroyed me.”

“Brandon, please, I’ll go get him to leave and we can talk–”

“What I did to you was wrong. I know that. And I begged you for forgiveness. I wanted to make the feeling go away. I’d have died for it.” Quavering. “And you’ll never let me be free. My guilt...it’s just a tool for you. A weapon. And you’re such a goddamn monster that–”

A shame immeasurable. After all this time, over nineteen years, she’d thought she’d outran her consequences. The season of revelations. The past had finally caught to her. She reached out for him, this Tower of Babel, seeing not what had happened so long ago, but the impossible beauty birthed from it.

He recoiled from her audacity.

“I’ll go get him.” Defiance sundered. Like a scalded dog, she traipsed from the kitchen, through the living room and down the hallway, the door to the garage opening and then closing.

Alone, Brandon pressed his fingers against his closed eyelids, the heat from them tremendous. A sob, a groan, then a wild shake of the head. So often, it was helplessness in which he’d glide on over the emotional insurmountable. He growled it away. The pick-up in the driveway. Travis had converted the garage into a makeshift woodworking shop. And if he came back through the house…

Brandon marched deeper into the kitchen, to the stainless drop-in sink, pushing the handle of the pull-down faucet for hot water. Tearing from the kitchen roll, he wetted it down, wringing it of the excess, pressing deep against the canthi of his eyes, a perfect way for laving away his tears. Once done, he opened the pull-out cabinet next to the walk-in pantry and threw the paper towel into the trash. He took a deep breath.

The door into the hallway garage door opened. “--to hear with the earmuffs on.” Travis’s voice.

“Just get the Risata, okay?” She took the lead, her head tilted over her shoulder, until once again, she was out of the hallway and into the kitchen. “The blue bottle.” Not a hitch in her voice. Such a warm smile.

Brandon grinned in kind. Acrid. It took all he had to keep from retching.

Travis wasn’t playing a role;  his expression was genuine, grey had overtook the mahogany of his beard. Sleeves rolled up and sawdust flecked across the belly of his flannel, he reached his  hand outward to him once near. “Hey, man, congratulations! You did it!”

He accepted in kind. “Thanks man.”

“I know the Colossus thing is something big from how you always talked about it, how you thought maybe you’d lost the chance a few years ago. But...man...wow. After everything. You freaking did it. And we’re so happy for you.”

Melissa looked so saccharine as she beamed, her Arms folded across her chest.

Brandon found her manner utterly harrowing. All the same, he matched the handshake in vigor. “Thanks. I...I really appreciate it. Nothing official yet though. Won’t believe it until it’s announced in full. And it being Coral–”

“Twenty years, right?”

Two decades. So long ago. Had they really grown that old since they’d first crossed paths in The Squared Circle? Time both of them spent chasing after Alias for the World Title on the second pay-per-view? Hell, even before then. If there was an actual throne of skulls, Avalon’s head would be at its very foundation; after all, he was the first true wrestling star Youngblood defeated. “Always thought the world of him talent wise, even when others didn’t.”

“Got to respect a guy who called his shot. Put all that pressure on his shoulders. And he did it.” A chuckle. “Got to feel like a real bastard going in there knowing what you got to do.”

“I didn’t make the gamble. He did.” The jovial tone bled away as Brandon released his grip, his eyes piercing through Melissa as he faced her. “I’m not going to let someone else’s choice dictate my life anymore.”

Blissfully unaware, Travis Covington’s laugh was hearty. “Still deserve to celebrate. Know it’s been hard this year. Not just in the ring, but with Cody, and everything...”

Youngblood’s eyes remained locked onto his ex-wife. “Where is he by the way?”

A moment to ponder, the veil nearly falling as her mind raced to decipher implication. “Oh he’s...uh...”

“I think he’s with Chloe and Andy. Maybe. They’ve been patching things up–”

“That’s great to hear!” An authentic affirmation from Brandon from the news.

Melissa interjected, her hand clasping her husband’s shoulder. “The Risata, Travis. Don’t know if they’ll have it at Festival–”

“If they don’t have it then Hy-Vee will.” Travis fished his keys from his pocket, his boots loud against the hardwood. He pointed toward The Tower. “You’re good with the Blanton’s in the cabinet, right?”

“Yeah.”

Melissa eagerly followed behind her husband. “Be safe out there.”

“I will be,” Travis declared, drawing her in close for a hug. “See everyone in a few.” The front door opened. Soon after, he was gone.

Youngblood quickly filled the silence. “Lock the door.”

Their deception melted away, she sank, her shoulders slumping. Locking the deadbolt, she turned around. “Thank you. For not telling him–”

All he did was stare at her. Through her. “When’s Cody coming home?”

She was unable to draw her head up. To look him in the eye. “I don’t know. Could be anytime.”

His scowl was oppressive, searing. “I thought he’d want to talk about Cody. Or is that a lie too? After all...creating stories seems to come so naturally for you...”

A breakdown, heavy, with the snap of a bolt of a strike of lightning. Her voice cracked. “Brandon...please...”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Me and Travis...we fought over it...we don’t agree–”

“Couldn’t wrap him around your finger? Work at it a little bit. I'm sure you can find a way to guilt him over it for the rest of his life–”

“I don’t want Cody wrestling, Brandon–”

“Oh...we’re going to have that conversation.”

“He can be so much more–”

His tone was wholly incredulous.“Do you realize...truly...what you’re on about?”  Was she truly going to diminish the sport of which he’d dedicated his life to? “So much more? What’s that even mean? You’re talking scholarships and NIL and all this other shit...you know how much is in his trust fund. You know where it came from...”

Her breathing harried. “Don’t you think–”

Brandon gave her no quarter. “That kid is going to walk into adulthood with every advantage there is. He doesn’t have to worry about rent. Insurance. Car payments. He can do what he wants, when he wants. Chart his own course. Make his own way. And what put him in that position? It’s that ring. And if that’s what he wants, it’s what he wants–”

She dug her heels to stand her ground. “I don’t want him–”

“Is it because it’s beneath him? You know how many good goddamn people–”

“You can’t protect–”

“He’s strong enough to protect himself!” His roar bellowed from his very depths. “He hurt me! Last year, or you forget? Tore apart my arm! Cost me the goddamn thing I've been trying to get back ever since! Because I sure don’t!” He stepped out of the kitchen, into the growing shadows of the hallway. “He ever tell you he’s going to kill you? Huh? And you know why? Because somebody doctored that fucking call and said what I did to you was because of him–”

“I told him he had no right–”

“It doesn’t matter! You could’ve told him anything but you chose not to tell him everything! Or maybe you did? I DON’T KNOW! I don’t know because EVEN I don’t have the full fucking story–”

“I don’t want him in wrestling–”

“--OH all about you, ALWAYS ALL ABOUT FUCKING YOU–”

Her sob turned to scream. “IT CHANGED YOU!” No more shirking away. “It changed you! I LOVED you Brandon. I LOVED you! But the further along you went, the more you did, the more you didn’t love me!” She stood mere inches from him, every part of her brought to bare. “What did I do to you? What changed? I stayed the same...and the more time went on, the more you traveled the road in PRIME...” Her face crinkled a swollen red. “Liquored up, drooling on somas. And you wouldn’t even tell me why I wasn’t good enough. You didn’t love me but you fell in love with Amy...and I know why now. I love her too now. I love her too!” Eyes seeking eyes. “You were focused on your darkness but I’m the one who saw the man you truly are...”

He remained silent as fresh tears poured down his cheeks.

“Are you going to say anything? I was dumb, Brandon. I was dumb, and I thought that if I gave you something more, something she couldn’t, you’d love me.”

Despite himself, despite the words choking in his throat, he couldn’t stop himself from speaking. “I didn’t want to feel anything anymore. From my family. From my father...”

“And then Cody was going to come and he was going to fix everything. I was sure of it.” She stepped back. “And I didn’t know about what you were doing with Amy, and you’d just lost to Hoyt and we got into a fight, and you told me, and I snapped.” Her arms were wild in their sway before wrapping around her chest. A hug for only herself. “I was angry. I was hurt. And I said a lot of terrible things to you. That you deserved everything that happened to you. And you twisted the knife. Said how she made you feel things in your heart that I never could. That I’d never make anyone feel for me. And I told you that I had been using you, and ra...ra...oh my God. Oh my God...Brandon...I’m...I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry...”

Watching her shiver and quake, instinct called for him to reach out to her. To help brace her. Even after everything. Despite it all. “I’m sorry for what I did to you, Melissa. I really am. I always have been. I couldn’t love you because I couldn’t really love anything then. I’m never going to make an excuse for it. Never.”

Her fingers clawed through her hair. “I hated you. As much as I loved you, I hated you even more.” A bitter nod from acknowledging something once felt. “When you came back into my life, crawling, begging for forgiveness, it was everything I ever wanted. It meant I won. I’d made a better life for myself. For our son. And I thought you were bullshit. I’d seen what you’d done. Pariah. And coming back here, so starved. So weak. But then you started chipping away at me.” Her nails sunk into her collarbone. “And I’d already built this life...and Cody...I should’ve told you, Brandon.”

“And why didn’t you?”

There was no hesitation in her response. “Because you made me fall in love with you again. Not like before. Something stronger.” Her legs threatened to give way. “I didn’t want my son to know why he was born. I didn’t want you to hate me. After everything we went through. We had a great life. A great family. And now we’re going to toss it all away? After everything? All that work? All that good?”

For a moment, he couldn’t handle the wellspring of emotion bursting from within. He began pacing a trench from hallway to kitchen, back and forth, over and over, until finally, despite the strain, despite the overwhelming urge to run, he stilled himself. “For the last nineteen years of my life...I’ve been fighting to be a better person. And that entire time, even when things were going so well, a part of me...a part of me felt like I didn’t deserve it. That I never deserved anything good. Not just from what happened that night. From being born.” Strength found, his voice found its way through oblivion’s shallows. “But I tried. I tried real hard. I’m still trying today. Not feeling good enough. Not feeling satisfied with anything. Always a cloud on the horizon. But I was so close, Melissa. To feeling whole. To accepting my place in the world. As a man. A father. A fighter.”

She tried to draw him to her, to hold and comfort him. “I’m sorry, Brandon.” She’d never meant anything more in her entire life.

“All I had was a path to redemption. And you took it from me. I don’t know if any of it is real. And I’ll never know.” The green light, forged year by year, so close and within reach, only to elude us. As it always has. As it always will. “I love you Melissa, but I don’t believe you. And I’ll never, ever, forgive you.”