Page 22 of Heartbreaker
“You’re gonna…”Moxiescoffs.“You?Miss Yay-Rah Pep Squad, you think you’re going to beat me?Don’t make me laugh.Ha.Ha.You need to stay in your lane, sweetheart.Go back to the sidelines and leave this to the professionals.You’re trying to shine under the wrong stadium lights—your glitter won’t get you far out here.” The champ shakes her head, glancing at the crowd. “Now, get out.” Her face only twists further in irritation when I refuse to budge. “C’mon Pep Squad, time to go.”
“I’m not going anywhere.You issued the—”
Her hand collides with my cheek, sending me stumbling back a few paces. “Get out of my ring!”
Clutching my cheek, I glance atMoxieover my shoulder.
“This is my ring, Skye!” she yells, lifting the belt into the air. “You don’t belong here, and you never will.Go back to the sidelines!”
Without warning, I run straight ahead, spearing her in the midsection. The impact sends us flying across the ring, and my opponent folds in half. The crowd erupts. Sitting up on my knees, I push the hair from my face and run my tongue over my teeth, glancing around the crowd. The microphone in the corner catches my attention, and I reach for it, staring down at the champion. “Sidelines, huh?” I chuckle. “Welcome to the main event, bitch.”
I throw the microphone out of the ring as she stirs beneath me, and finally, the referee joins us. He swipes the title fromMoxie’s side and hands it to the ringside aide before signaling to ring the bell and officially start the match.
Moxieuses the ropes to pull herself up, glaring at me the whole way to her feet. She shrugs the black leather jacket off her shoulders, tossing it outside the ring.
We circle each other, and she tries to hide the smirk tugging up the corner of her plum-colored lips. She’s impressed with my show. A brief nod and we surge forward, colliding in a collar-and-elbow-tie-up. We both fight for dominance, but I win. Ducking under her arm, I pivot out of her hold and yank her into a side headlock, coming down to one knee. She hisses in frustration, jerking against me, but I cinch my grip.
Moxieswings her right leg, attempting to kick out my left knee, but misses. She does it again, and this time I feel the air rush past my leg, narrowly missing. The champion tries to push me off, but I sink my weight further into the ground, resisting.
The air escapes my lungs when she lands a right hook into my ribs. She does it again, and this time I don’t have a choice but to let go. Shooting me into the ropes,Moxieprepares for a standing dropkick, but I shoulder tackle her on my return and lay her out flat on the mat. I run the ropes, looking for extra momentum in my counterattack, but she pops up to hit a hard clothesline on my rebound. My back slams into the mat, knocking the wind out of me, but I roll through, coming back to my feet, and I meet her wide stare.
“Seriously?”Moxiesnaps.
She dives forward, grabbing both my legs for a double-leg takedown, and goes for a quick roll-up. She tugs on the waistband of my skirt, trying to force my shoulders to stay down for the count. The referee drops to the mat, but only gets to the one count before I kick out, shovingMoxieoff. She rolls through, but when she tries to stand, my boot collides with her jaw in a hard superkick. Her body crumbles beneath her, and the crowd gasps. Standing over her, I place my boot on her throat and grip the top rope, using it as leverage.
Moxieclaws at my ankle as I twist my ankle to make it look like I’m grinding into her windpipe, and the referee counts off. I have five seconds to let go before he’ll disqualify me. He makes it four when I finally break free, arms flying into the air to show I give up, only to do it again when he steps away.
“Come on, Skye!Get off the rope,” he yells, and I glare at him, this time only stepping off once he gets to five.
Hauling the champion by her hair to her feet, I attempt to whip her toward the ropes, but she plants her feet and sends me flying forward instead.Moxieducks low to miss my clothesline upon rebound, and on my second return, she leapfrogs over my head. When I turn on my heel for another attempt, she catches my arm and drags me over her side to land back-first on the mat.
She scrambles to her feet and climbs to the top turnbuckle, waiting until I’m back on my feet, and soars through the air for a crossbody. I sidestep, and she crashes face-first into the mat. Hooking her leg, I press down on her chest to keep her shoulders on the mat for the pin.
The referee slams his hand down on the mat. There’s no movement beneath me until after the second one, whenMoxieshifts her weight and lifts her left foot onto the bottom rope. One foot on the rope, even if you’re pinned with your shoulders down, means the referee should stop counting. The problem is the referee doesn’tseeit, even though he should, and he’s about to hit the damn three count.
“Ref, the rope!” I hearJude Paul’s voice ring out from the commentary table. I begin to lift off my opponent, andMoxielifts her shoulders off the mat, but it’s too late…His hand has already slapped the mat for the third time, ending the match.
Holy.Shit.
That wasn’t supposed to happen.
Chaos is the only way to describe the sound that erupts throughout the arena. People cheering. People yelling. Some people don’t say anything at all. The commentators go back and forth, trying to make sense of what to do next. Because this wasn’t in the script.
I sit back on my heels and meet the distressed gaze of Scott Harrington, unlike the calm demeanor of Jude Paul, the more senior announcer. Jude’s hands chop through the air matter-of-factly, speaking to his counterpart. He’s most likely saying the referee should’ve seenMoxie’s foot, and he’s right. The refereeshouldhave seen it because her foot on the rope was a planned spot. So, what in the hell happened?
Moxielooks pissed, following the referee around the ring. She repeats the same sentiment to him over and over: “My foot was on the rope!” But he doesn’t seem to care. He all but ignores her, reaching out for the belt from one of the ringside aides.
Holy shit, I just unseated the champ three nights before Wrestlefest.
Holy shit, I just unseated the champ three nights before Wrestlefest. I’m going to be in so much trouble. I’ve fucked up my career before I even started.
“My foot was on the rope, Jimmy!”Moxieyells again, still following the referee as he walks the title over to me. She blocks him, inhibiting every path he tries to take.
“I didn’t see it.”
“Play it back, right now!My foot was on the rope.” The former champ whips her head around to me, a pleading look in her eye, and mouths,What the fuck?
What does she want me to do? I lift my hands in the air. Maybe it’s not the best response, or the proper one, but it’s the only one I have. I lean back against the ropes, letting Moxie vent her frustrations from a safe distance. She continues to bombard the referee with insults and never lets him get anywhere near me.
