Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned

—Buddha

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Chapter Twenty-One

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{o}-{o}-{o}

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All through dinner, Alexa put her effort into staying calm, and it was taking a lot out of her. There are things they don't know, not even Mox, she told herself. So, try to keep some control.

It came down to two things in her mind, did she live with Cherry Bomb being her theme song, or did she speak up and share part of her past? She could share it with Mox or Sefa alone, both of them knew where she came from, but she wasn't sure she wanted to give away more of her past. Do I always have to share the worst of what I was with people? Face it, something will always come along that will remind me.

She knew the song, knew the words, they had been burned into her memory forever.

It was the title of one of the last movies she ever made. The last one she'd made with kids near her age, two other girls close to her age, one a girl with long, jet black hair, the other a red head, although her color might have come from a bottle. They played three preteen girls with a predilection for fucking college football players, (played by men who had left their college days years ago) school teachers, male and female, and coaches, also male or female.

Suzie had been the best little girl in the world back then, so of course she made the movie, her and the other two girls and the numerous perverts, all carefully disguised, or only shown from the back with wigs on, to make sure they wouldn't be recognized as the pedophiles and Ephebophiles they were. It didn't matter, the important people were "Little Suzie," "Little Lizzie" and "Little Tammy." They got to wear matching red and white cheerleader outfits and carry pom-poms around. And even though their skirts barely covered their bottoms, they never seemed to understand that they ought to be wearing shorts or at least underwear. Cherry Bomb had been not only the title and the opening music in the song, the song was played several times in the movie.

Alexa hated all the movies she had done, even the ones with Little Timmy. All of them were disgusting in her mind, but the Cherry Bomb movie had upset her more than some. Football was one of the few things "Daddy Ken" had let her watch and she'd been fascinated by cheerleaders. Sure, their skirts were short, their tops sometimes a little skimpy, but they had shorts on under those skirts and they were working up a sweat, which meant skimpy tops made sense. There was something pure and innocent in Alexa's mind about it. She knew men were disgusting enough to fantasize about cheerleaders, but men couldn't stand to let anything be pure and innocent. There were men that probably whacked off to pictures of the Gerber baby. But to most people, Alexa thought cheerleaders probably looked like girls who worked very hard to put on their performances. They always seemed so enthusiastic and pure. Alexa couldn't help but think that in another life, one where she wasn't abducted and forced into being a child porn star, she would have been a cheerleader. When she watched football with Daddy Ken and Uncle Sean she would fantasize about going to try outs and being the squad leader, living a normal life, the head of the cheerleader team. She was small and slight enough, she probably would have been the one at the top of the pyramid. It was one of her few innocent fantasies and with one movie, it was over. Now, all watching cheerleaders did was remind her of that horrible movie. How she, "Tammy" and "Lizzie" had slept in the same room when the filming was over for those few days, getting visits from one or the other or sometimes several of the perverts, not as much the actors, but Uncle Sean, Daddy Ken, or one of the other girl's "Daddies," telling them how wonderful they were, how they got them so hard. As if it were their fault and thus up to them to help them.

And even though no one was going to make her wear a cheerleader outfit to wrestle, she would have to listen to that song. "Hello Daddy, Hello Mom, I'm your, Ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-Cherry Bomb!"

Mox didn't know about the movie. She knew he wouldn't have suggested the song if he had, but she couldn't help but be angry with him. It did answer the question if Sefa had looked at more than just the movies she made with "Little Timmy," because she didn't think he'd be such a horrible person to have agreed to the song if he'd known.

She didn't want to talk about the movie. She didn't want to have to confess to Mox or Sefa, or anyone about it. Mox's "friends" at the FBI might have seen it, and that was horrible enough, but to tell people who knew her? Who saw her all the time? She'd rather die.

Which meant her options were to try to talk Sefa out of using it, which she had the feeling would be impossible. "I don't like it" wasn't going to work. Sefa would respond that if she didn't, tough luck. She got that. The big promotions like WWE didn't pick theme songs based on the desires of the wrestlers. A wrestler might have more freedom to develop a character than most forms of acting, but the control the product the promotion did have, they held onto with an iron fist. She got that.

That left the second option. Suck it up. Try to block it out and let it happen. Just like my whole life used to be she thought bitterly. Hate it, but pretend to love it. Is this really my future? Either spill my guts to everyone about what I was, or to suck it up when those two worlds cross swords? And if I have to suck it up too much, does that mean I'll learn to accept what I was as Little Suzie?

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"I'm sorry."

Those were the first words Mox said as they were heading back to the apartment after dinner. Alexa wanted to turn and scream at him, yell at him and hit him. Or, wait until they were home and really lay into him. And no, it would not lead to sex. But, she stopped herself. Again, Mox didn't know and she was the one who was choosing not to tell him. She drew in a deep, sharp breath. "In the future," she said, her teeth clenched. "If I make a suggestion, don't rush to override me to please your father."

"I know," She could hear the unhappiness in his voice. "I just… didn't want it to turn into some big deal. I'd heard Marc playing the song before, and I always thought it would make a pretty good entrance theme, so I filed it away in my memory. When I saw Dad wasn't going to let you get away with Thunderstruck, I just found myself making the suggestion before I could think. I should have kept my mouth shut and talked to you later. We didn't have to find a theme song for you right that second."

God, I want to be pissed off at you, she thought And I am pissed off at you, but a whole lot more than I should be, and you don't deserve it. He didn't know. I can't make him pay for something he didn't know. I wanted to use Thunderstruck because my fighting name was Toril, which means 'Thunder.' I know I shouldn't use Toril as a wrestling name, because I shouldn't link me to the underground fighter with me the wrestler, but I just wanted to pay tribute to my name. Not to some stupid song with and obvious double-entendre. You, more than anyone else, that Cherry Bomb has another meaning besides some explosive."

He looked even more guilty. "Again, I'm sorry and it was wrong of me. Do you want me to talk to Dad tomorrow and see if I can't convince him to let you use Thunderstruck? Maybe I can explain why it's important to you."

And maybe pigs will fly. She shook her head. "Your father is fixed on the song. I just want to not think about it, okay? Let's just drop the subject."

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When it came time for bed, she couldn't act like everything was fine. She was holding back her anger and bitterness, but she was still human. "I'm exhausted," she said, once they were settled in. "I've worked my ass off all day. I need to get some sleep." And before he could do or say anything, she rolled so her back was to him, and pretended to fall asleep instantly.

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As sometimes happened, a good night's sleep did help the next day. She knew she was still angry about the whole situation, but she felt a little more confident that she could keep it under control. She was even able to make some light hearted, normal, conversation with Mox as the two of them drank coffee that morning. And she kept it up when they went to the house for breakfast. Fortunately, she could be mostly quiet at the table. She'd never been chatty like May was, never felt like this was her family too. All she had to do was wear a pleasant expression and eat her breakfast.

And try not to shoot looks of daggers at Sefa or Mox. And to tell herself they had no way of knowing.

"Alexa, I'm not going to be able to practice with you today," May said, as she finished off the last of her Swiss cheese and tomato omelette, something she'd eat every morning if left to her own devices. "A friend of mine from my gymnastic days is staying not far from here and we're going to get together and have lunch and do some window shopping. Actually, you're welcome to come with us, if you'd like."

Alexa shook her head. She got along with May a lot better than she had at first, she even liked May, but she wasn't sure if she wanted to hang around with her and an old friend. They probably wouldn't appreciate a third wheel who knew nothing about their past, unable to understand their inside jokes. "I appreciate the offer," she said, trying not to look disappointed. She wanted to do as much rehearsing as possible before Saturday.

May must have sensed something anyway, because she smiled. "We'll have plenty of time to work out the kinks. Don't worry, Alexa, we're going to blow them away Saturday night."

"I've got some free time today," Mox said, before Alexa could respond to May. "I'll work with you. I can't get as much air as you, but I can sure help you with the ground stuff."

Alexa felt an instant flash of anger, why did Mox always have to jump in? He just admitted last night that he should have asked before making suggestions to Sefa about her theme music, now, not even twelve full hours later, he was interjecting himself into her training. He didn't say, "If you would like," "How about." He said he had free time and assumed Alexa would agree. "Sure," she said, putting on one of her best "Suzie" smiles. "That sounds great."

Was she on her way to becoming the best woman in the world?

Maybe that's what you need to survive, even on the outside. Especially if you let guys into your life. You have to let them call the shots, or be accused of being at best unreasonable, at worst a dominating bitch.

Part of her knew she was being unreasonable, Mox wasn't out to get her, and he had taken an active role in her training as well, so it wasn't that far out in left field to assume he was allowed to help her. But she just wished that he wouldn't constantly rush in to "make things better," because "making things better" involved a lot of assuming and very little asking.

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"Have you thought of doing a rebound lariat?" Mox asked Alexa later, as they were practicing in "Mox's" ring. Alexa had just shown him a part of the match she and May had planned, where Alexa would bounce off the ropes, doing the same move as she would if she were running the ropes and then doing a clothesline to May.

"No, we hadn't talked about that," Alexa's tone was careful. "Should we have?"

"Watch," Mox said. He went over to the ropes and fell between them. He put one hand on the top rope, the other on the second rope and used the same rope to bounce off of, putting his arm out and lunging towards Alexa. He stopped just before the clothesline. "See? It's the same thing, but it adds a little more of an ooph to the clothesline, gives it a little more drama."

He was right, which irritated Alexa. Of course he was right, it was wrestling and when it came to wrestling, he was always right. "Show me again," she said, forcing herself to smile. It would add a lot to the clothesline.

He showed her again, slowly, then had her do it. It was one of those moves that looked extremely simple but wasn't. You had to understand the flex of the second rope and how to move so it wasn't too high or too low, the right spot so you could kick up your legs and push yourself out of it, almost like a child getting off a swing. It was a move that could be done dozens of ways, but unless you did it the right way, it lost its effect. "You're getting better," Mox said, after what seemed like the hundredth time she'd tried the move. "A few more times and you'll get it."

It took more than a few more times, but once she did get it, it clicked in her head and she knew she would never have a problem doing it again. She did the move perfectly as Mox watched. "Yeah!" he said, nodding enthusiastically. "You've got it, that's awesome!"

She was both pleased by his praise and irritated. Yes, he had taught her, but the way he sounded, as if he felt some type of claim on her, like she was a good wrestler because of him. Am I a good fuck because of you? she found herself thinking. Do I give good blowjobs because of you? What else am I good at because of you?

"Now, try it again and then clothesline me," Mox said.

Sefa and Roman were there, watching the two of them, but keeping quiet as Mox taught her the move. She found herself looking towards them, seeing both of them smiling and nodding. It was obvious they thought Mox's suggestion was a good one as well.

"Jog towards the rope," Mox suggested. "Like you're trying to get away from me, climb out of the ropes for a break, but then turn, do the lariat, and then clothesline me."

Anything else while we're at it? Alexa thought. Do you want to redo the entire match May and I worked on? Because you're so much better than we are? Still, she did what he asked, she jogged over to the ropes, twisted, and performed the rebound lariat perfectly, getting more forward momentum than he often did. She only had to take one step to get to Mox, holding her arm out.

It started as an honest accident. She would tell herself that over and over again. An accident. Accidents happened all the time in wrestling. She'd taken her share of knocks from her practice partners, and given them their share as well. That was all this should have been, a case of getting too much force behind the lariat and hitting Mox a little too hard. He was significantly taller than her, she wasn't going to get his throat, just a knock to the area above the stomach. Maybe leave a bruise, but nothing worse.

Instead, something inside of her snapped as she flew forward, harder than she intended, and knocked him to the ground, flat on his back. He gave one wheezing inhale trying to catch his breath. "I'm sorry!" she said.

"S'okay," he gasped.

She never knew why that simple 'S'okay' set her off, but it did. Suddenly all the anger, first the anger that he had injected himself into this future match with her and May, then a little deeper, that he'd suggested the song she hated the most as her entrance music, that he'd convinced her to let him make love to her, all this resentment going right back to when they were children and he was her first lover, far before she should have had any lovers. All that anger came rushing out at once and she threw herself on top of him, sitting on his chest and started hitting him. Not wrestling hitting, this was the fighting she used to do but worse. She wasn't holding back, she was slamming her fists into him over and over again.

It was as if time stood still for everyone but her. Mox made no moves to stop her, Sefa and Roman stared in shock, their brains not able to comprehend what was happening. She kept hitting Mox, getting a grim satisfaction when his nose broke and blood flowed freely, then as she heard something else snap. She found herself jumping to her feet and kicking him as hard as she could, first in the chest, then when he finally curled up in a ball, in the back. Then the head, any place she could reach, not just kicking but bringing her foot down, stomping on him.

He never fought back. He tried to roll away, but he never tried to grab her foot. If he had, she might have come to her senses, but instead he just tried to get away. That made her angrier.

It was Sefa that stopped her. She had been so intent on hurting Mox that she hadn't even felt or seen him coming into the ring. She didn't realize he was there until he was grabbing her, pulling her arms behind her, and dragging her away from Mox. And she didn't remember Roman leaping in the ring later, standing between her and Mox, a weak, fragile, wall. She knew Roman would have risked his own health and safety to stop her from what she was doing to Mox.

"Calm down!" Sefa roared, and she knew she had been fighting him at first, but she finally relaxed. He still didn't let go of her. "What the hell were you doing, Alexa?"

All that anger drained from her at his question. "I-I" she began. She looked over at Mox, who Roman was kneeling over. She saw blood, a whole lot of blood. I beat him harder than I beat the folks in the underground scene she thought. Yeah, it was supposed to be no holds barred, but nobody really wanted to kill each other. She knew that for those minutes of insanity she did want to kill Mox. As her sanity returned, she was ashamed and embarrassed, but she knew the truth. She wasn't just angry at all he had done, she was angry that he kept letting her get away with being a victim and himself the bad guy. He'd put up with her punching him and kicking him at the beginning. He never tried to instigate sex, he left that to her. It seemed like their entire relationship was him treating her like a fragile flower and her using him as a punching bag. Even his horrible suggestion of an Entrance song, was motivated by his desire to protect her against Sefa's objections to her own choice.

"It's-it's-it's okay," she heard Mox saying, gasping with every word as if his breath had been knocked out of him so badly he'd never get it back. "She-she didn't-"

"Yes I did!" she found herself screaming before she could stop herself. "I meant every kick, every punch and I'd do it again!"

"That's enough!" Sefa said, his voice still angry, but instead of shouting, he was using his, "You will listen to me" voice, the one that made every wrestler he ever taught shut up and pay attention.

"Dad, she really did a number on him," Roman said, still kneeling beside him. "She broke his nose at least. He's got blood coming out of his ear and he's coughing it up, too. This isn't something Mom can fix with a little first aid."

"I"m-" Mox began, then stopped.

"Going to the hospital," Sefa finished for him. "Call 911, Roman." As Roman called he turned his attention back to Alexa. "If I let you go, will you be a good person and not go near Mox? Will you go back to the apartment and just stay there for now?"

She wanted to protest. Even though she had caused all this damage, she wanted to say that she needed to help Mox, that she was his girlfriend, she should be with him. But she was smart enough to know that was the stupidest thing she could do. "Yes," she said in a soft whisper. "I'll do whatever you want." She wouldn't have blamed Sefa if he called the police on her and she had the feeling the only reason why he didn't was because it would upset Mox.

He let her go and without a word, she left the ring, heading for the apartment she had shared with Mox, knowing it was unlikely they'd ever share it again.

She had just shut the door, when she heard the ambulance sirens.