Drawn to You

Chapter 8

Watch me. It was more than a snappy catchphrase for Liv. It was a middle finger to all those naysayers who thought she'd just be another trashy Jersey girl, stuck in a web of dead-end waitressing jobs and cheating boyfriends. It was an affirmation to the girls who needed to see a woman in the ring who wasn't six feet tall or layered in muscles. Most of all, it was a reminder to herself, equal parts encouragement and warning. Watch me fall watch me fly, but most of all, watch me TRY.

That evening, though, the last thing she wanted was thousands of pairs of eyes on her as she walked down the long ramp—had it always been that long?—and around the ring to the commentary table. Corey already had a chair ready for her and Liv tried to sit in a way that was comfortable but wouldn't look completely ridiculous on camera. When she started to squirm, she simply scooted the chair closer to the announce table so the camera crew wouldn't see as much of her legs. "Everything okay?" Corey murmured during a commercial break, leaning close so the fans behind wouldn't be able to overhear.

Liv nodded, trying not to press her hands down against her thighs. Rhea had been rough enough that Liv could still feel the delicious echoes of that friction, so she tried to sit more on her hip, hoping it looked like she was leaning in to talk to Corey as if what he was saying was utterly fascinating. "All good," she whispered.

She felt better than good. Liv had to keep reminding herself that she and Rhea weren't together, that Rhea had basically dismissed her at the end. Now stay out of my head. What had she meant by that? Liv had never used magic on Rhea, no matter how tempted she had been; she wanted every decision, every desire, to be Rhea's own. If things had been normal, she would have hurried back to the locker room for a repeat, but Liv forced herself to linger, hitting the talking points she was supposed to mention in order to plant seeds for a future feud. In the ring, Becky shot her a curious glance when the cameras couldn't catch her expression, and Liv wondered how much the banshee sensed.

"Well, thank you for your insights, Liv," Corey said at last, holding out his hand for Liv's borrowed headset. She gave it back, shook out her hair, and did a quick circuit of the ring during the next commercial break, giving fans high fives and posing for a few selfies before she got her cue to clear the area. Once she was backstage, she ran to the room where Finn had been resting and hammered on the door, but there was no answer.

Liv ran to the locker room next, grabbing her phone and hoping she hadn't missed any important messages. Unless there was a severe situation in a wrestler's family, they weren't supposed to take their phones out to ringside; whenever someone did in a storyline, like Austin Theory, it was always a prop phone just in case it was damaged or stolen by a fan. When she saw a notification from Finn, Liv's heart fluttered until she opened it and saw a picture of the demon. He was still pale and drawn, but he had managed a smile and a thumbs up, right ankle turned out to showcase his new kawaii toast tattoo. The sound that came out of Liv's mouth was somewhere between a sob and a giggle. I'm told breakfast foods are the best foods. The next message was simply text: Thank you, little witch. Liv to the rescue again! I'll have to show Rebecca.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Liv left the locker room and started to head to Catering, suddenly starving. When a shadow fell over her, she glanced up—way up—to see Damian Priest. "Rhea's taking Finn back to the hotel. He's better now, but he wanted to be safe. He said to thank you for your quick work." He gave her a grudging nod of respect. "And he said to give you this," he added, pulling a small box out of his jeans pocket. "Said he didn't think you had any Connemara marble or something like that?" Damian handed the box over with a shrug.

"Thanks." Liv opened the box slowly, eyes going wide when she saw the pendant. An ornate silver hilt cradled a piece of marble delicately carved into the shape of a dagger. "This is... too much."