Jessa Bolt

We all stood in Kurt's office and watched him pace back and forth. He was dressed in a fresh-pressed black suit with a red, white and blue tie. His hands were on his hips and his lips were pursed into a narrow line. The business jacket he wore was wide open, revealing a white button-down shirt. There was rage in his eyes and his fists were balled up in anger. The entire room was thick with awkward silence. I stood, wedged between Brock and Torrie, the three of us unsure what to say to him. John was chewing on his lower lip, trying to come up with a solution to our newest problem. Unfortunately, there was nothing any of us could do.

Last night, sitting in his hotel room, Kurt had received a call from Vince. For the first time in months, Kurt was being put into a match. Now that he can walk again, Vince didn't see any reason why he should just be a General Manager. I suspect Stephanie got into her father's ear and told him she wanted to see her former friend lose his job. Tonight, he's in the main event against Triple H, and if he loses, he's no longer the SmackDown General Manager. He'd be replaced by Evolution. If he loses, we will have failed, and Evolution will control the entire WWE landscape.

"We knew they were going to make a move at some point," I spoke. "This really shouldn't be a surprise to any of us." I looked at the clock on the wall. Main event time was fast approaching, now officially less than a half hour to go. Kurt stopped pacing, turning to all of us. He looked dejected.

"Can you guys leave for a moment? I need to talk to Jessa for a minute," he said. Brock and John looked at me. I nodded and watched them all leave. Torrie gave me a hug and I urged her to be careful; earlier in the night, Rene and Adriana were attacked in the parking lot by Batista, Ric Flair and Dawn Marie. The two of them are laid up in the trainer's office under a mountain of ice. It's become gang warfare. Nobody's safe.

Mark and Luther left as well. There were only the two of us. I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned against his desk. He shook his head. "I'm not ready for this, Jess. I haven't wrestled or trained in months," he confided. I flashed him a sad smile.

"We all know this. They know this. They're counting on it," I told him. "We need to make sure John and Brock don't get hurt tonight. They're the only hope we have of leveling the playing field tonight." He nodded.

"What happens if we lose? I'm going to lose my job, and I'm going to let you down."

"If you lose, then you're back as a wrestler. Then we keep fighting. You win, we keep fighting. All we can do right now is fight."

"Don't you ever get tired of fighting, Jessa?" he asked me. I nodded.

"Sure. But I love this brand too much to let them take it."

"Would you mind accompanying me to the ring tonight for good luck?" he asked. I laughed. Kurt instantly reddened and his shoulders slumped. "Well, I tried..."

"That's not what I was laughing about," I assured him quickly. "I just don't know how lucky of a charm I am."

"You've always been good luck to me." I didn't know what to say to that.

"I'll come down to the ring with you." He approached me, hugging me tightly. As usual, he lingered too long. I think he smelled my hair, which was the point I disentangled from him. "You need to get ready, Kurt. The match is going to happen pretty quick."

"Wait here." I nodded. Kurt grabbed his bag and disappeared into the shower area. In minutes I heard the shower running. With a deep sigh, I sat down on the leather couch and waited for him to get ready. Brock walked into the room.

"That motherfucker is not in the shower," Brock said. I nodded. He sat down beside me on the couch. "What did he want from you?"

"He wants me at ringside tonight," I answered. "I think you and John should come with us. I have no doubt Hunter is going to have Randy, Ric and Dave behind him tonight. And Callie." Brock nodded, his jaw set.

"All right. But for the record, I think it's an awful idea that you come down to the ring. I'll be looking out for your well-being first and foremost."

"Um...thanks?" I was genuinely touched, but I had no clue how to respond. "I'm not fragile, though, Brock. I'll be fine. But I appreciate that you want to keep an eye out."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that. For a moment, I thought there was going to be some trouble."

"No trouble. Like I'd win an argument with you," I said, motioning to the very obvious height and weight difference between the two of us. He laughed. The shower turned off. I looked at Brock. "I'm having a bad feeling about tonight. They know Kurt isn't fully recovered. I know it's what they're counting on."

Kurt emerged moments later, cutting our conversation short. He was in his singlet. He looked startled to see Brock. "I just have to stretch, and then I'm good to go," he told me. I nodded. There was a knock on the door. John walked in without waiting for a response.

"I wasn't sure if you were going to do this with us," Kurt told him bluntly. The two of them have this weird rivalry going. Nobody seems to like or trust John very much, despite the fact he has never been anything but loyal to the group. John shrugged.

"We're all in this together. That's how I see it," he said. I checked my reflection in the small mirror hanging on the wall. My red curls were starting to fall limp, but I still looked okay. I stood and smoothed out the imaginary wrinkles in my red and black corset.

"You look beautiful, Jess," Kurt said, as if I were striving for his approval. Brock and John nodded.

"Jeez, you three are good for my ego," I teased. "Thank you."

Kurt continued to stretch while I began to pace back and forth, thankful that I opted to wear my flat boots instead of my heels. People have this idea that Divas are great in heels, but I'm certainly not. I have the feeling that at some point tonight, my boots are going to come into contact with Callie's solar plexus, or if I'm lucky, her face.

We left for the Gorilla. Discomfort was palpable in the air. Brock held my left hand, Kurt held my right. They both gave my hands a comforting squeeze. I flashed them both comforting smiles in return. John was behind us, sullen, a far cry from the cheerful instigator he usually is. They let me go and I climbed the steps first, the rest following behind me.

Kurt's music blared through the arena and Kurt held the curtain open for me. They followed me onto the stage, the four of us walking down the ramp. Kurt and Brock, being the gentlemen they are, held the ropes open for me. I don't think they could hear me thanking them over the sound of the chanting crowd.

Evolution's music started. Brock and Kurt tensed simultaneously when Randy was the first to walk out. He was flanked by Ric, Dave and Callie. As the three of them stood on the ramp, the Evolution music switched to Triple H's music. He came out, armed with his water bottle. They were making their way down to the ring, leaving Hunter at the top of the stage to do his preening. Callie was trash talking at me, acting like I could hear her over the music. I refused to acknowledge her. I held my hands out, motioning at my crew. My big, brawny crew.

Brock and John got out of the ring. I followed. Brock held out his arms to me and I put my hands on his shoulders, allowing him to grab my waist and bring me down to the floor. I turned my attention back to the ring in time for Hunter to hit Kurt from behind. It was a cheap shot. I swore. The referee signaled for the bell, the official start of the match. I pounded my hands on the apron, willing Kurt vocally to get the upper hand. It was a while before he managed to reverse a Suplex with a German Suplex.

On the other side of the ring, John was bickering with Dave and Callie. I thought about going over there to break things up, but Brock grabbed my arm gently, silently telling me to stay put. With an aggravated sigh, I heeded his wordless advice. I put all the energy I could muster into being Kurt's biggest cheerleader.

There was a crash. Batista and Ric had double-teamed John. Brock couldn't contain me now; I rushed over to him, leaning down to check on him. He had taken quite a shot to the head. His breathing was slow and even, but he was out cold. Cole and Tazz's table was in shambles.

I stood in front of John's unconscious body, my breathing becoming shallow, my fists clenched at my sides. Redness danced in front of my eyes. Callie reared her hand back and slapped me across the face. My head rocked back. I took a step forward and with both hands shoved her as hard as I could. She fell on her ass in front of everybody. The crowd roared. Batista had no time to catch her, so she sat on the floor and threw the biggest temper tantrum I have ever seen.

Another crash diverted my attention from the drama at ringside. Hunter had Pedigreed Kurt while I was distracted. He pinned him. I rushed towards the ring, but two strong arms locked around my waist and yanked me back. The entire time he pinned Kurt, Hunter kept his brown eyes on me, his face contorted into a smile of satisfaction as the referee counted to three. My entire body sank in defeat.

I scanned the area. Where the hell was Brock? I looked down at the arms holding me, not surprised to see the familiar tribal tattooed forearms of Randy Orton. I struggled against him.

"Let go of me, you bastard!" I shouted. He put me down. I turned around to see him grinning at me, just like Hunter had been. Infuriated, I slapped him as hard as I could. He must have bitten his tongue, because he spat blood onto the mat, just by John's foot. The grin never faded. On the speakers, the Evolution music blared. Everybody but Randy was in the ring celebrating.

I backed away from Randy, but he was following me. "You stay away from me," I threatened, my voice guttural. He stared at me, shrugged, then slid back into the ring, keeping his eyes on me as he raised Hunter's arm. "Fuck!" I shouted, running my hand through my hair.

I knelt beside Kurt, who had been kicked out of the ring. He was clenching his hands into fists. "Kurt..."

"I failed." His eyes squeezed shut and he made a sound as I softly touched his ribs. I gave him the most reassuring smile I could muster, even though I didn't feel so reassured myself.

"We talked about this, Kurt. We're just going to keep fighting." I ran my hand over his bald head. "Are you going to be okay? Don't lie to me."

"I'd never lie to you. I'll be fine. I think I dislocated a rib," he murmured. I know Kurt; the injury would do nothing to derail him. I helped him as he struggled to his feet, bringing him up to a standing position as the crowd lit up. Hunter was taunting him, but Kurt was in too much pain to notice or care.

John was stirring on the floor. Kurt and I went over to John. Batista motioned that he was going to get out of the ring, but Kurt picked up a steel chair to protect us as I checked on John. We were all going to need ice packs and ice cream. The night was going to be spent regrouping and licking our wounds.

It's hard not feeling like the numbers game is never going to work in our favor.