The sizzle of tires across wet asphalt slowed to a halt as Lola's uber pulled up beside a squat 3-story brick building. Her neighborhood was not a great one, but it looked even more menacing with the gloom and doom of a rainstorm as its backdrop. The surrounding buildings towered over it, casting it in a dark shadow. Pieces of trash blew haphazardly in the wind. The weather was so bad, it looked like the hobo that usually panhandled outside of her building retreated to his navy blue tent beside the concrete steps.
Glancing out the window, Lola saw that the entrance to her apartment building was further than she would have liked to walk in the rain.
"You can move up. I'm not tryin' to get soaked walkin' to my front door."
Her uber driver was timid and lanky. His fiery red hair was probably the boldest thing about him. His features assembled a man who looked no older than 20, and seemed incredibly uncomfortable in his own skin. Lola's plunging neckline and chunky heels certainly made him more uncomfortable for the duration of their ride. Lola could tell. He looked like the type of guy to walk into a strip club for the first time and ask "So, how does this all work?" Or "Just to clarify, none of this is illegal, right?"
He slowly rolled closer to the front entrance. Lola gathered her comically large purse and prepped it to become her impromptu umbrella. She took a bracing breath before exiting the car and quickly shuffling into her building's tiny lobby.
After keying in and bouncing up the stairs to her floor, she dug through her bag to find her keys. The door swung open.
"Home so soon, darling?!" Every word out of Seth's mouth only further parodied himself. He sounded like a bad impersonation of a 1930's TV husband. He stretched his hands wide for a hug, while simultaneously blocking Lola's entrance to her own home. He had gotten around to at least putting on a shirt, but his stood in her doorway in only his boxers from the waist down.
"Boy, if you don't move!" Lola fought a smile as she swung her bag at him. He feigned an injury as he doubled over and allowed her to step inside. She expertly avoided her oil spill on the floor and began to kick off her heels to the corner of her studio.
"That was quick… Am I looking at Night Candy's newest piece of night candy?"
Lola couldn't help but snort at his terrible joke.
"No. Hell no. That was a fucking joke."
She opened her fridge and ducked low to inspect it's contents. She frowned when she only saw a half-eaten container of coleslaw from KFC and condiment packets. She grabbed the coleslaw and a fork from her sink.
"I get there, and there are like 10 other girls. The dude has us stand in a line and take off all our clothes. Like, we was ass-hole naked standing in front of this greaseball." She dug around the coleslaw container with her fork, inspecting it. "Then, no lie, he started feelin' up on the first girl in line. Like, he was knuckles-deep. Then he went on to the next girl. I was number three in line, so I found my clothes and dipped."
Seth chuckled and plopped down onto her futon.
"Hey, maybe I should talk to the boys at the club, we could always change our interview process to be more hands-on. I like that guy's methods."
She shook her head and laughed. When she looked up from her pitiful cup of coleslaw, her eyes met Seth's. To an outsider, the glance seemed wasn't noteworthy. However Lola could have sworn she caught the slightest glimpse of a wink from Seth. She quickly averted her eyes and continued to smile, feeling uncharacteristically bashful. The sound of the rain outside filled the quiet space between them for a few moments.
Knock Knock Knock
The two frowned at each other.
"Who the fuck is that?" Lola mouthed.
Seth shrugged and shook his head.
The two waited in silence, hoping that the visitor had the wrong apartment. But the knocking came a second time, more intense.
"Who is it?" Seth called. This response received an aggressive whispered scolding from the kitchen area.
"Seth?" The voice from the other side of the door spoke.
"Dean?" Lola and Seth said in unison. She opened the door to reveal a dripping wet Dean Ambrose. His hair stuck together in waves across his forehead, still fully saturated and dripping down his round face. Lola thought for a moment how comical it was that every man that arrived at her door happened to be one of her bosses, and always sopping wet . It was only a matter of time before Roman showed up at her door…
The thought was cast away when her eyes landed on Dean's expression. An eyebrow quirked as a small grin came to his thin lips.
"Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt." He gestured to Seth, who was sprawled across her futon in his boxers and t-shirt. Her studio was pretty small, and it was incredibly easy to see the entirety of its contents from just the doorway.
Putting two and two together, she gasped and waved her hands about wildly.
"Nah, nah! It ain't even like that Dean, quit playin'." She then turned back to Seth and shot a menacing glare at him, waving at him to find his pants and clothe himself. "What are you even doing here?"
"Well, I needed to talk to you about something." He took a step into the studio, dripping from his leather jacket and soaked jeans on to the floor. " But I see you've got company."
"Dean! No, I said it ain't like that. Don't you dare-" Lola's voice lowered a few octaves "Don't you dare say a word of this to Ro."
"Hey man, she's right. I'm just crashing here for a few days. Its not what it looks like at all." Seth finally chimed in, as he buckled his jeans.
"I have no horse in that race. So, I don't really care. I just came here to talk to you about something pretty important Lo." Dean raised his hands in defense, his half-grin stayed plastered to his face the entire time.
"And you couldn't call?" Lola's narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms.
"Its not the type of thing you talk about over the phone." Dean's grin suddenly vanished from his features. Eyes narrowed, lips tightened into a taught, thin line. He exuded intensity. "You never know who could be listening."
Usually Dean's non-chalant, sarcastic, I'm-better-than-this attitude made Lola feel at ease. He brought a lightness to most situations, mainly because he was ready and unafraid to point out the absurdity of it all. But when his demeanor suddenly changed, she felt as if she knew exactly what he was talking about.
"Seth, get out." Lola commanded, not breaking eye contact with Dean.
"Wait, what? Lol-"
"Seth, I swear to god if you don't-"
"Alright, Alright. I'll be in the hall."
"And don't stand near the door. If I catch you eavesdropping I'll have your shit out on the street faster than you can say 'I'm Sorry'."
Seth rolled his eyes and brushed past the two, closing the door behind him. Lola and Dean stayed silent for a moment, listening for his footsteps down the hall. Once they felt he was at a safe distance, they nodded.
"I hope you ain't here for what I think." She sighed, almost exhausted by the thought of it.
"Lo, you aren't making any money. None of us are. We gotta get back to making money somehow."
"I'm working on making money, thank you very much." She snapped. "And it don't involve you and yo fuckin' coke."
"Oh and you think being an escort is gonna make you the same kinda money you made with me?" He challenged, his signature smirk creeped back onto his face.
"How'd you know-"
"I overheard you and Alexa that night. You guys aren't discrete at all." He shook his head and sauntered over to the lone window in her studio and looked below to the desolate street and its pouring rain. "Regardless, I came here to see if you'd want in on a new shipment. I heard its big money and it would be great to have your help on this."
"I'm sure you would love my help. But I'm not tryin to catch a case." She moved behind him, peering out at the dark, wet pavement below. "Did you forget about what happened last time?"
"Of course not. I'm the one who took the fall, not you." He snapped, his cool demeanor faltered for a moment, before he regained it again.
"And no one asked you to do that for me. Just cause you took the blame don't mean I'm in debt to you for it."
"No one asked me to do that? Bullshit. You and I know damn well that Roman would have had me castrated if he knew I had you dealing."
He was right. It had only been a few months ago that Dean and Lola were selling coke on the side. The two had struck up an improbable deal when Lola walked in on Dean hiding the last of his enormous garbage bag filled with it in the office closet. She promised not to tell her then-boyfriend Roman about what she'd seen if he would cut her in on the deal. She had felt the impending slow season hit the club, and Lola had always loved the promise of more money. Little did either of them know, Lola would push product way better with a pair of tits in a customer's face.
And so for the following months, her side business with Dean bustled, while her main gig as a dancer only became more abysmal by the day. She of course kept that part of her life a secret from Roman, yet another thing that caused a strain on the relationship.
Until it all, of course, came to a nasty head.
Dean got dragged out of the club one evening by a swarm of officers dressed in tactical gear. They'd been led to believe Dean was the highest man in the supply chain, and he'd be heavily armed. That was not the case, and after weeks of interrogations, and court hearings Dean was able to get off with a hefty fine and a blemish on his record. This was all lessened from the federal charges he was facing. Had it not been for one of his former bosses, former co-owner of the club and now legal counsel, Dave Batista, Dean would probably be rotting in jail.
Of course Dean considered spilling the beans on Lola being involved too, but decided against it when he realized that Roman would most likely have him killed for not only involving Lola, but also ratting her out. Roman was not the type to kill, but he would question that when it came to Lola. He was fiercely defensive of her, even when the two of them were at each other's throats.
"So what? Thats done and over with. I ain't trying to bring that bullshit into my life right now." Lola crossed her arms and nudged Dean weakly.
"I'm not forcing you to do anything, Lo. I'm just looking out for you."
"Now that's bullshit. Dean Ambrose ain't looking out for anyone but Dean Ambrose. Don't come to me actin' like a savior. You said it yourself. Roman would fuck you up if he knew. You only comin' to me cause you know I can push product better and faster than if you did alone."
Dean shrugged and snorted.
"Fine, you got me. I really couldn't care less if you ended up on the streets tomorrow. Just thought I'd extend the offer."
"Well fuck you too then." Lola sucked her teeth.
"And I'll take that as my cue to leave. Think about it and lemme know." He began to exit her apartment, but paused at the door. He turned to her with the look of a man ready to push some buttons. " I'll see you at work in a few. Oh, and lay off on the lip liner, its looking a bit borderline-drag."
He slipped out of the door before Lola had a chance to react. She rolled her eyes and let it go, focusing on the grey-blue scene outside her window. It seemed like the rain was finally starting to let up, the once-heavy globs of water became pittering droplets that misted the streets below. She wondered for a moment if getting back into business with Dean would be the better route. The steadiness of income and ease of it was more than tempting. But she could never picture herself in jail.
She could talk a big game, but when it came down to it, she knew jail would chew her up and spit her out.
Another knocking came from the door.
"Come in, he left." She called, still gazing down on the wet pavement.
As if perfectly choreographed, Dean and his leather jacket walked across the street and into his car, while Seth walked into her apartment.
"Hey, I think the landlord left this notice on your door."
"Notice? What notice?" Lola's face twisted in confusion. She didn't wait for Seth's response, and snatched the paper out of his hand. Her eyes landed on a bright red piece of paper with bold black lettering. While there was quite a bit of text on the page, there were two unmistakable words written boldly across the top of the page. The words proudly declared for all of Lola's neighbors to see :
EVICTION NOTICE
"Can you believe that guy? Pulling a gun out - on me - of all people?!" Cody leaned back in the booth and crossed his arms, incredulous.
It was Friday at 3PM, the slow shift at Minnie's Diner. The Bullet Club liked to frequent the place during this time, and the staff all knew it. The men were usually sat in the large red corner booth in the back. This was to serve two purposes: to make sure that any patrons that did come in weren't intimidated by the group of men, and to accommodate their large statures, no other table in the place would be able to comfortably fit 6 men their size.
Today, however, only Cody Rhodes, Marty Scurll and Adam Page sat in their usual booth. Kenny and the Young Bucks were not invited to the impromptu meeting.
"I honestly can believe it, mate. The man's bonkers, we all knew that going into this though." Marty's gravelly British accent cut over the nondescript old jukebox tunes. He mindlessly twirled a tip of his dark mustache as he watched the rain outside the window.
Marty's nickname, "The Villian" was partial to his appearance. He donned a large fur coat, circular sunglasses and dark, slicked-back hair. He was meticulous with his wardrobe, even if the sweltering Los Angeles heat got to him, he refused to go anywhere without his fur.
"Yeah, sure, he's crazy but not 'try-to-kill-Cody-crazy." Adam replied, shaking his head and taking a sip of his coffee.
To any common passerby, Adam looked like any other laid-back surfing bro. Long wavy dirty-blonde hair, usually tied back into a messy bun, facial hair and a toned physique. Little did people know, he carried a pre-tied noose in his jeans back pocket. He rarely took it out, but when he did, his victim would come to know why Adam Page was called "Hangman".
"Right? Exactly. I get it, he's the chosen one, AJ left and thought he'd be the best one to lead us. But what has he really got to offer? A strip club with a random-ass gun theme? Come on. I can't be the only one who thinks thats only going to make us money for so long." Cody threw his hands in the air. He was exhausted with the mere thought of Kenny Omega.
"Hey now, come on. Look, he's done wonders for us. We're not involved in any more shady drug trafficking like AJ had us doing before. And Finn before that. We're managing a legitimate business, not taking hits out on people and the like. Be grateful, yeah?" Marty tried reasoning with the two.
"Did you ever stop to think that maybe taking hits or trafficking were the only tried-and-true ways to make money? People do these things because its steady and makes a lot of money fast. My dad did it, AJ did it, Finn did it and so did everyone else who has half a brain." Cody retorted. "Kenny doesn't want to get his hands dirty, but then turns around and tells me to find a man that's been missing for 2 years? How the hell does he expect me to do that in one week?"
The trio were silent for a moment. Their waitress approached the table with their plates, her red lips stretched into a disingenuous smile. She was terrified of them. Within a few quick seconds she had placed their meals before them and walked away wordlessly. She didn't want to find out what would happen if she said the wrong thing to the Villian, or the Hangman, or even the American Nightmare, Cody Rhodes.
After the woman scampered away out of earshot, the three resumed their conversation.
"Maybe we should pay a visit to his family? Shake them down for some info?" Adam quirked an eyebrow as he began to saw through his steak.
"Ric had them put into a witness protection program. We're never going to find any of them." Cody shook his head.
" Well what about his old Evolution buddies? They owned the club with him, they should have an idea of his whereabouts." Marty offered.
Cody choked out a nervous laugh. He began to cut into his eggs with more vigor than intended. When Marty and Adam noticed this they gave each other a look from across the table. They knew something was up. Cody had to quickly regain his composure.
"They're never going to give that info up guys. Come on, that's just- that's just dumb." Cody's lisp was more pronounced that it usually was.
He was aware of this, but hoped that the comment would dissuade the two from pursuing the Evolution idea. When the two shrugged and continued to eat their food, he felt a wave of relief.
He couldn't let anyone know about what happened between him and their former-rivals only a year ago.
That was a secret Cody was willing to take to his grave.