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acute-crashout-jeyuso · 2 months ago

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Sacrifices (Book 2 of 3 BTR Series) a Jhea Fanfic.

Chapter 23: Cleaning House..

February 28th, 2025 – 1:55 PM

Damian descended the stairs, his steps light but deliberate, scanning the cozy yet sophisticated interior of Jey and Rhea’s home. His gaze landed on a massive family portrait hanging prominently in the living room. It was a blown-up photograph taken in Pensacola, showing Jey, Rhea, and Jey’s sons, Jeyce and Jaciyah. In the picture, it looked as if Jey was carrying all of them, their smiles beaming with happiness.

“I love the family portrait,” Damian said as he reached the bottom of the stairs, gesturing toward it.

Jey looked up from the couch, where he was scrolling through his iPad, and smiled. “That’s my favorite one,” he admitted, his voice filled with pride. “Rhea thought it be perfect in the living room..”

Damian nodded, his expression warm but observant. “She was right. It says a lot about what you two have built here.”

Jey leaned back into the couch, clearly pleased. “You like your guest room?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Yeah,” Damian said, smirking slightly. “I knew Rhea decorated it the moment I walked in.”

Jey chuckled knowingly. “She spent Wednesday night putting up those framed posters of you and her—the Terror Twins’ biggest moments. She’s been hyped about surprising you with that ever since she started working on it.”

Damian shook his head, impressed. “She’s too much, man. She doesn’t miss a detail.”

“That’s her,” Jey said, leaning forward. “I took care of the room her parents are staying in, though. That one’s all me. Got pinnacle moments from my career framed in there—me and Jon winning our first tag titles, me winning my first Intercontinental championship. Stuff that shows what kind of man she’s marrying.”

Damian’s smirk faded, replaced with a pointed look. “Oh, you mean someone who gets too frustrated and takes it out on her?”

The room fell silent. Jey froze mid-motion, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processed the unexpected shift in Damian’s tone.

Damian took a step closer, his towering frame casting a shadow over Jey. “She told me what you said to her in Titusville, Jey,” he said, his voice low but firm. “You’ve got to cut that shit out—for real.”

Jey’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond immediately.

Damian didn’t back down. “You think it’s just words, but it’s not. Every time you let your frustration spill onto her, you’re chipping away at something that’s already been through enough. You keep doing that, and you’re not just fucking with her—you’re fucking with me.”

Jey exhaled sharply, sitting up straighter. “Damian, I—”

“No,” Damian interrupted, his tone even sharper. “Listen to me. She loves you, Jey. She’s fought like hell to get to this place with you. You’ve got a family, a home, everything. Don’t screw it up because you can’t handle your emotions.”

Jey’s shoulders sagged slightly, the weight of Damian’s words sinking in. “I know,” he finally muttered, his voice quieter. “I know I’ve got to do better. I’m working on it.”

“You better,” Damian said, his tone softening just a bit. “Because if you don’t, you’re not just answering to her—you’re answering to me, too.”

Jey nodded, the tension in his expression easing slightly. “Thanks, D. I mean that.”

Damian gave a small nod, stepping back. “Good. Now, let’s grab a drink or something before Rhea gets home.”

Jey stood, a faint smile returning to his face. “Sounds like a plan.”

The two men headed toward the kitchen, the air still heavy but a bit more settled. Both knew the conversation was far from over, but for now, they would let it rest.

—

Meanwhile..

Rhea stood confidently at the front of the boardroom, a series of notes and ideas scattered across the large table in front of her. The room was alive with energy as she laid out her vision for the upcoming WrestleMania 41 match card. Her focus was on the return of the Money in the Bank ladder match, a historic moment in WWE history that would see the 7th and final participant—a returning Jey Uso—make his mark.

“Jey’s inclusion in the match would add an unparalleled layer of intensity, if this is his first ever Money in the Bank win, he needs to do an Uso splash from the ladder to take out at least three others.” Rhea was saying, her eyes scanning the room for feedback. Paul sat at the head of the table, his gaze fixed on the presentation. Bruce seated to Rhea’s right, was flipping through notes. The conversation was fast-paced, each of them contributing ideas about how Jey could return and make an impact at WrestleMania 41.

But as Rhea continued to talk, discussing the timing of Jey’s cash-in and how it wouldn’t do justice to Gunther if it were to happen too early, she suddenly stopped mid-sentence. Her hand instinctively went to her stomach, her breath hitching slightly. It wasn’t like her to lose focus, but something felt… off.

“Everything okay?” Paul’s voice was calm but laced with concern, his eyes narrowing as he saw the change in Rhea’s demeanor.

Rhea tried to shake it off, her free hand moving slightly as if to dismiss the feeling. “Yeah, just a little winded. I’m fine,” she managed, but her words were clipped, her breathing coming in shorter bursts. She tried to power through, but it wasn’t working. She could feel her energy slipping away as the room around her seemed to blur slightly.

Bruce, who had been sitting quietly, immediately noticed the change. “Rhea, you sure you’re alright?” he asked, his voice filled with genuine worry.

Rhea opened her mouth to respond, but the words never came. Instead, her vision started to fade, and her body felt heavy as if it no longer belonged to her. Her legs gave way, and before she could catch herself, she collapsed, fainting in front of both Paul and Bruce.

Bruce leaped to his feet instinctively, his hands reaching out to steady her before she hit the ground. “Rhea!” he shouted, panic rising in his voice. He gently lowered her to the floor, brushing her hair back from her face.

Paul’s expression hardened, a mix of concern and frustration evident on his features. “Get a medic, now!” he barked.

Bruce pulled out his phone, his fingers trembling as he dialed. “We need a medic in here, now. Rhea just passed out.” He gave the details of their location as Paul knelt down beside Rhea, checking her pulse, his mind racing.

“She’s breathing,” Paul muttered, though his worry was palpable. “But this doesn’t feel right. This isn’t just exhaustion.”

Seconds later, a medic burst into the room, a team member following closely behind. They quickly assessed Rhea’s condition, checking her vitals. Bruce stood back, his face pale with worry. He exchanged a look with Paul, who looked back at him with equal concern.

“She’s not responding as she should,” the medic said. “We need to get her checked out immediately. I’ll make sure she’s stable, but I recommend getting her to the hospital, just to be safe.”

“Do it,” Paul said, voice firm but carrying a hint of uncertainty. “Bruce, notify Jey.”

—

As Jey and Damian continued their conversation, discussing how things had been going in the past few days, Jey had just started telling Damian about his son Jeyce sneaking out when his phone buzzed, interrupting him. Jey looked at the screen, recognizing Bruce’s name immediately. His tone shifted from casual to concerned as he answered the call.

“Hey Bruce,” Jey greeted, his voice tight.

“Jey, it’s Rhea,” Bruce responded quickly, the urgency clear in his voice. “She collapsed during the meeting. We’ve sent her to Stamford General. I need you to get here as soon as you can. I’ll send you the details.”

“Alright, I’ll be there,” Jey replied, trying to keep his composure. He hung up the phone and turned to Damian, his expression shifting from casual to serious.

“Damian, get Rhea’s parents from upstairs. We’re heading to the hospital,” Jey said, his voice urgent.

Without hesitation, Damian nodded. “Got it, I’ll grab them.”

Within moments, the group was piled into Jey’s Mercedes. Jey’s hands gripped the wheel tightly, his mind racing with worry as he sped toward Stamford General. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and all he could think about was getting to Rhea. His son, his family, none of it mattered right now — only Rhea and the baby.

They arrived at Stamford General about twenty minutes later, Jey parking the car with a sense of urgency. Everyone rushed inside, moving quickly through the emergency room, heading for maternity and youth.

Jey walked up to the desk and addressed the clerk. “I’m looking for my fiancé, Demi Bennett,” he said, his voice calm but sharp with determination.

The clerk quickly scanned her screen, then looked up at Jey. “ER31, that’s where she’s located. Room 31 down the hall.”

Jey didn’t waste another second. He motioned for Rhea’s parents and Damian to follow as he hurried down the hall. As they reached Room 31, they saw Rhea lying in the bed, a nurse by her side, and a doctor standing nearby, watching her closely.

Rhea smiled softly when she saw Jey. Her eyes softened with relief, and despite the situation, she managed a faint but comforting smile.

“Hey, baby,” she whispered, her voice weak but warm.

Jey moved quickly to her side, his hand finding hers, squeezing it gently. “You scared me, Rhea,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “What happened?”

Rhea’s mother, looking both worried and relieved, stepped forward. “What’s going on, doctor? What happened to my daughter?”

The doctor nodded and addressed them calmly. “Ms. Bennett collapsed due to stress. That’s the primary cause. We’ve done a thorough check, and everything else is stable. But stress has its toll, and it’s essential she takes it easy from now on.”

Jey’s eyes locked with the doctor’s, his concern growing. “And what about the baby? Is everything okay with the baby?”

The doctor’s expression softened as he reassured them. “The baby is doing just fine. About fourteen weeks along, and everything looks good. Stress can have serious effects on a pregnancy, especially in the early stages. It can cause high blood pressure, reduce blood flow to the placenta, and sometimes lead to premature labor. However, in this case, the baby is healthy and strong.”

Jey’s chest eased at the doctor’s words, though his protective instincts remained strong. He turned to Rhea, his thumb gently caressing the back of her hand. “I don’t want you pushing yourself anymore, Rhea. You’re not doing this on your own. We’ll take care of everything.”

Rhea smiled weakly, her eyes filled with gratitude. “I didn’t realize how much I was pushing myself… I just… I thought I had to keep going.”

Jey leaned in, his forehead resting against hers. “You don’t have to, Rhea. You’re my world. We’ll slow everything down. Just focus on yourself and the baby. We’ll take it from here.”

Rhea’s mother gave a small, relieved sigh, stepping closer to her daughter. “You need to listen to the doctors and take better care of yourself, sweetheart.”

The doctor nodded in agreement. “We’re going to monitor her here for a little while and after we are going to release her, but with proper rest and reduced stress, she should be fine. I’d advise she avoid any strenuous activities, and definitely no more late nights or overworking herself.”

Jey looked at the doctor, a serious expression on his face. “Don’t worry, we’ll make sure of it.”

The doctor gave a brief smile, nodded, and excused himself from the room.

—

5:32 PM

Later that evening, after Rhea was discharged from Stamford General, she found herself resting on the bed in the guest bedroom. Her mom had stayed by her side, ensuring she wasn’t alone as Jey, Damian, and Rhea’s dad were downstairs, talking quietly.

Rhea settled back against the soft pillows, her hand resting on her growing belly, a small smile on her lips as she turned her gaze toward her mom. The soft hum of the house created a sense of calm around them.

“Mom,” Rhea began, her voice quiet but thoughtful. “What do you think of Jey?”

Her mother looked at her with a knowing smile, the kind of smile only a mother could give, filled with a mixture of love and wisdom. “He’s exactly what you needed,” she said, her voice soft yet firm, as though she had seen the change in Rhea herself. “He’s patient with you. He’s protective, but he knows when to let you stand on your own. That’s rare.”

Rhea smiled at her mom’s words, the warmth of her approval soothing a part of her that often felt restless. “I’m glad you think that. I don’t know… sometimes I wonder if I’m doing this right.”

Her mom reached over, gently squeezing her hand. “Sweetheart, no one knows how to handle life perfectly. You just learn along the way. And with Jey, you’ve got someone who’ll support you, even when you don’t think you need it.”

Rhea leaned back further into the pillows, her thoughts drifting to the future. “How did you do it, Mom? How did you handle being pregnant and having a career? I feel like I’m juggling everything and it’s overwhelming.”

Her mom chuckled softly, her eyes softening with the memories of her own experiences. “It wasn’t easy being pregnant with you, Demi. You kicked me at the worst possible times, and Jesus, I thought you were sitting on my bladder the entire time.” She paused for a moment, laughing at the memory. “And I don’t know what it is with you, but you wanted pineapples all the time. I swear I couldn’t keep enough in the house.”

Rhea laughed lightly, a small sigh escaping her. “I still love pineapples,” she admitted. “Did you have heartburn too?”

Her mom laughed with her, the sound light and comforting. “Oh, all the time. I’d eat one of those pineapples, and it’d be like my chest was on fire.”

Rhea smiled at the warmth of the conversation, feeling more grounded with each passing minute. “I’m sorry, Mom,” she said, turning her head to meet her mom’s eyes. “I know I haven’t made things easy for you, especially with everything going on right now.”

Her mom shook her head, brushing a strand of Rhea’s hair behind her ear. “You never have to apologize for being yourself, Demi. But…” she paused, her tone becoming slightly more serious. “Have you started journaling like I told you to?”

Rhea sat up slightly, pulling the blanket higher around her body. “Yeah, I’ve been trying. I don’t know if it’s helping, though. When I write, I just feel like a mess. Like I can’t keep my thoughts straight.”

Her mom smiled gently, a look of understanding in her eyes. “It’s not like a pain pill, where you see relief in 20 minutes, sweetheart. You’ve got to let it take you. Sometimes it helps you make sense of the chaos, even if you don’t see it right away. You’ll feel it in time.”

Rhea nodded, letting her mom’s advice settle into her mind. “I know. I just wish it didn’t feel so… heavy all the time.”

Her mom’s gaze softened as she reached over, rubbing Rhea’s arm. “I know it’s tough. But the most important thing right now is you. Don’t forget to take care of yourself. And don’t push everything down. It’s okay to let things out, even if it’s just in your journal.”

Rhea closed her eyes, taking in her mother’s words. She knew she was right. “I’ll try, Mom. I promise.”

There was a brief pause before her mom smirked mischievously, her eyes narrowing slightly. “No offense, but I think your fiancé is a little full of himself,” she said teasingly.

Rhea raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. “What do you mean?” she asked, her voice curious.

“Look at all these posters of Joshua and his brother,” her mom said, gesturing to the walls of the guest bedroom, where framed posters of Jey and his brother Jon hung. “They’re everywhere. Like he’s the king of the world.”

Rhea laughed, shaking her head. “Mom, the other room has me and Damian all over the walls. I’m sure Jey doesn’t mind.”

Her mom smiled, clearly just enjoying the moment of playful banter. “I’m just teasing, sweetheart. But really, I can see why you’re with him. He cares about you, and that’s all that matters.”

Rhea smiled softly, her heart swelling at her mom’s words. “Thanks, Mom. I really needed to hear that.”

Her mom leaned in to kiss her forehead gently. “I’m always here for you, Demi. Just remember, you’ve got this. And if you need help, don’t be afraid to ask.”

Rhea nodded, feeling a sense of peace wash over her. “I’ll remember, Mom. I promise.”

As the room settled into a quiet rhythm, Rhea relaxed, grateful for the comfort of her mother’s presence. Even amidst the chaos of life, she knew that with her family by her side, she could face whatever came next.

After Rhea fell asleep for a bit, Rhea’s mother descended the stairs slowly, a soft smile tugging at her lips as she saw her husband, Damian, and Jey gathered in the living room. They were chatting quietly, though the mood had shifted slightly with the tension from earlier. The house felt warmer now, as though the presence of family brought an air of comfort after everything that had happened with Rhea.

As she entered the room, her eyes naturally fell on the family portrait hanging on the wall in the living room. The picture was a beautiful moment captured in time. Rhea’s mother smiled softly at the picture before turning her attention back to Jey.

“These are your kids, Joshua?” she asked, her tone warm and curious.

Jey stood up from his seat, his posture relaxed as he met her gaze. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, his voice respectful. “From a previous marriage. That’s my youngest, Jeyce, and my oldest, Jaciyah. He’s actually about to graduate this year.”

Rhea’s mother’s eyes softened, a gentle warmth filling her expression. “My bonus grandbabies,” she said fondly, her voice carrying a hint of pride. “They must be quite the handful.”

Jey chuckled, his smile genuine. “Oh, they definitely keep me on my toes. They’re with their mother right now, though.”

A thoughtful expression crossed Rhea’s mother’s face, her gaze drifting momentarily to the photograph as though envisioning the children growing up before her. “I hope you two have a good partnership despite the divorce,” she said, her tone gentle, yet probing.

Jey paused for a moment, considering the question before answering. “Yes, actually,” he replied, his voice calm. “She’s only about twenty minutes away now. She was living in San Francisco, but she’s here now. So, we’re able to maintain a civil relationship for the kids’ sake.”

Rhea’s mother nodded thoughtfully, her expression reflecting approval. “That’s good to hear,” she said with a slight smile. “It’s important to maintain peace, especially for the children.”

Jey’s eyes softened at her understanding, feeling a sense of relief in her acceptance. “It’s not always easy, but we try to make it work. I think that’s the most important part.”

Rhea’s mother tilted her head slightly, curiosity lighting her face as she asked, “And what does she do for work? Your ex-wife?”

Jey smiled, feeling a sense of pride as he answered, “She’s an assistant manager at a marketing company. Funny enough, WWE actually uses them from time to time for promotional work, so she’s been involved with some of our projects.”

Rhea’s mother raised her eyebrows in surprise, impressed by the connection. “Well, that’s interesting. Seems like everything has a way of tying together, doesn’t it?”

Jey grinned, nodding. “It sure does. It’s funny how things work out sometimes.”

The room fell into a comfortable silence for a moment as Rhea’s mother looked at the family portrait once more, her thoughts likely drifting to her daughter and the growing family she was becoming a part of. Rhea’s journey had been complicated, but Jey knew that her family, particularly her mother, was an important anchor in her life. And he intended to make sure he fit in, supporting Rhea and her loved ones, no matter the challenges ahead.

Rhea’s mother finally turned back to Jey, a thoughtful expression on her face. “It’s clear how much you care about her,” she said softly, her tone serious but filled with warmth. “I can see it in the way you talk about her. I just hope that with everything going on, you’re both able to find a way to balance everything.”

Jey met her gaze, his heart full of determination. “We will. We’ve got a good foundation, and I’m not going anywhere. I’ll make sure she’s taken care of.”

Rhea’s mother nodded, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “I’m glad to hear that. You’re good for her, Joshua. I can see it.”

Jey’s heart swelled at her approval, the sense of responsibility heavier now than ever. He was ready to protect Rhea and their future, no matter what challenges they faced. But for now, he was grateful for moments like this—moments of connection and understanding that brought their families closer together.

For Dinnertime, Damian had managed to entertain Rhea’s parents with his impromptu lesson on how to make pupusas, his lively chatter filling the kitchen. Meanwhile, Jey couldn’t focus on the conversation or the smell of fresh cooking. His mind was with Rhea, his thoughts heavy with worry. He couldn’t shake the image of her in that hospital bed, so fragile. The weight of everything — the stress she had been under, the baby, his careless words in Titusville — it all sat on his chest like a ton of bricks.

He needed to see her, to make sure she was okay.

Jey quietly excused himself from the kitchen, leaving Damian to handle the pupusa lesson, and made his way upstairs. He moved silently through the hallways, stopping in front of the guest room where Rhea was resting. His heart ached as he opened the door and saw her, asleep, peaceful for the moment. He closed the door behind him, walking over to the bed.

He didn’t want to wake her, but the need to see her eyes, to feel her warmth, overtook him. He leaned down and softly kissed her forehead, a gentle caress that stirred her awake.

Rhea slowly opened her eyes, blinking against the soft light in the room, and then she smiled at him, her eyes still clouded with the remnants of sleep. Jey’s heart lifted, but his worries still lingered.

“Hey, baby,” Jey whispered, his thumb tracing her jawline. “You scared the shit out of me today.”

Rhea’s smile faded slightly, her gaze shifting. “I’m sorry, Jey,” she murmured, her voice a little raspy. “I’ve been having bad dreams.”

Jey’s brow furrowed. He could feel the weight of her words — the fear in them, the strain. He sat on the edge of the bed, taking her hand in his.

“Why don’t you tell me about them?” he asked softly, his voice filled with concern.

Rhea sighed and looked away, a small frown pulling at her lips. “I don’t want to bother you anymore than I already am,” she said, the words heavy with something more than just the surface meaning.

Jey shook his head, squeezing her hand tighter. “Baby… are you still upset about what I said in Titusville?” he asked, his voice quiet but desperate to understand.

Rhea met his eyes, her expression guarded. For a moment, she stayed silent before replying, her voice soft. “It’s okay,” she said, trying to convince both him and herself.

But Jey could see it — the hesitation in her eyes, the slight tremor in her words. He knew she was lying, and it broke him all over again.

Jey’s eyes softened with regret. He reached for her cheek, his thumb gently stroking her skin. “I’m sorry, Rhea. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t realize how deep it went,” he murmured, his voice thick with remorse.

Rhea smiled faintly, her lips pulling at the corners. “It’s okay,” she repeated, though the words felt hollow. She wasn’t okay, and Jey knew it.

Jey’s heart ached. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to hers. “I’m really trying, baby. I’m trying to be a better man for you,” he admitted, the vulnerability in his words raw and unguarded.

Rhea looked at him, her eyes glistening with something he couldn’t quite define. “I know… I know you are,” she said softly. “It’s just… maybe I shouldn’t let you see my vulnerability for a while.”

Jey’s chest tightened, his hand still holding hers. “Baby, now you’re shutting me out,” he said, his voice breaking a little with the emotion he was trying to hold back.

Rhea closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. When she opened them again, her gaze was distant. “Jey,” she started, her voice shaky, “what did you expect? You think if we pick out our wedding cake, watch some movies, and cuddle, everything just goes back to normal?”

Jey opened his mouth to speak, but Rhea cut him off, her words rushing out in a raw burst.

“No, Jey,” she said, her voice growing firmer, “I just… I just want to keep my emotions to myself for a while. I need to deal with this on my own.”

Jey felt his world slip, like the floor had been pulled out from under him. Her words stung, sharper than he anticipated. He tried to stay composed, but the pressure of the situation, the weight of her hurt, left him feeling helpless. He wanted to fix it, wanted to make everything right, but it felt like he was losing her little by little.

“Rhea…” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “Please don’t shut me out. We’re in this together. We always have been.”

Rhea didn’t respond immediately. She just stared at him, the silence stretching between them like a growing distance neither of them knew how to bridge.

Jey’s heart sank as he realized the truth of what she was saying. She needed space, and he couldn’t force her to open up before she was ready. He wasn’t sure how long it would take for her to heal, but he knew he had to respect her boundaries, even if it hurt.

He gently brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, his hand lingering on her cheek for just a moment longer than necessary. “I’m here when you’re ready,” he said softly. “But I’m not going anywhere.”

Rhea’s eyes met his, and for a brief moment, he saw a flicker of the woman he had fallen in love with. But it quickly faded, replaced by the heavy mask she had put back in place.

“I know,” she said quietly.

Jey kissed her forehead again, his own frustration and helplessness simmering beneath the surface. As he pulled away, he sat quietly beside her, watching her drift off again, wishing there was more he could do.

But for now, all he could do was wait — wait for her to heal, wait for her to come back to him, or wait for them to find their way back to each other.

Jey carefully adjusted the blanket over her, brushing a strand of hair from her face before quietly leaving the guest bedroom. He moved down the hall, his steps deliberate to avoid waking her, and heard the faint ring of his phone from the master bedroom.

Heading towards it, he picked it up from the nightstand and glanced at the screen. The name “Takecia” lit up, and Jey furrowed his brow briefly before answering.

“Hey, T,” he greeted, his tone neutral but curious. “Everything okay?”

“Hey, yeah,” Takecia replied cheerfully. “Just checking—are you still good to pick up the boys on Sunday?”

Jey relaxed and leaned against the doorframe. “Yeah, that’s fine. Sunday works.”

“Perfect!” Takecia said with a hint of amusement. “Oh, and by the way, Demi and Jeyce are too cute.”

Jey’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Wait a minute,” he said, a slight grin forming. “Mr. Bartley actually let Jeyce see Demi again?”

Takecia laughed, the sound light and teasing. “Yup. After I made him write an essay about how sneaking out and kissing girls on his couch is not a good idea. Oh, and I brought Dacre some of my famous brownies. No one cannot resist my baking.”

Jey chuckled, shaking his head. “You always did know how to win people over with those brownies, T. They’re still the best.”

“I know,” she said smugly. “Anyway, I’ll see you Sunday. Be safe.”

“Will do,” Jey replied before ending the call.

As he set his phone back down, he turned to find Bella and Barry, their two large dogs, sprawled out across the oversized king bed. The sight made him shake his head with a smirk.

“Must be nice,” he muttered, scratching Barry behind the ears before heading downstairs.

The soft hum of conversation and the clinking of dishes greeted him as he reached the kitchen. Rhea’s parents and Damian were gathered around the kitchen island, pupusa ingredients around them. Damian leaned casually against the counter, mid-laugh as Rhea’s dad shared a story from their past.

Jey stepped into the room, his presence immediately noticed. “You’re back,” Damian said, nodding toward him. “How’s Rhea?”

“Sleeping,” Jey said with a small smile. “She’s tired, but she’s good.” He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and leaned against the counter, taking a moment to soak in the warmth of the scene before him.

“Good,” Rhea’s mom said, relief evident in her tone. “She needs rest now more than ever.”

Jey nodded in agreement, his gaze drifting toward the clock on the wall. “Yeah, she does. And I’m making sure she gets it.”

Rhea’s dad smiled. “That’s what we like to hear, future son-in-law. Keep my daughter safe, and you’ll stay on my good side.”

Jey laughed, lifting his water bottle as if to return the toast. “Always, Mr. Bennett.”

—

Rhea woke up groggily, blinking at the clock on her bedside table. The glowing numbers read 10:21 PM. She stretched and rubbed her eyes before sitting up, remembering that her parents were likely heading to the guest bedroom by now to get some rest. Not wanting to disturb them, she grabbed her blanket and quietly made her way downstairs.

As she reached the living room, she saw Jey and Damian sitting on the couch, casually watching TV and nursing beers. She smiled at the sight and asked, “Where are my parents?”

Damian looked over his shoulder with a small grin. “Traded rooms with me. Said they’d rather see their daughter on posters than Jey’s face.”

Rhea giggled, her exhaustion fading slightly. She plopped herself onto the couch beside Jey, pulling her blanket up around her shoulders.

Jey turned to her, his eyes warm and attentive. “You want something to eat, baby?”

Rhea thought for a moment, then grinned mischievously. “I want hot Cheetos with nacho cheese.”

Damian raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Really? I made pupusas earlier with your parents. You sure you don’t want those?”

Rhea shook her head firmly. “I still want hot Cheetos with nacho cheese,” she said stubbornly, her tone light but teasing.

Jey sighed with a playful shake of his head. “We don’t have any of that. Late-night run to the gas station?”

Damian leaned back on the couch, taking another sip of his beer. “Looks like it. Could probably use more beer while we’re at it.”

Rhea smiled and slipped on her slides, heading toward the counter where she grabbed her keys. She handed them to Jey with a smirk. “You’re driving. I’m too tired.”

Jey chuckled, taking the keys and motioning for her and Damian to follow him. They headed to the garage, and as the door lifted, Damian’s eyes landed on Rhea’s plum-colored Tahoe parked neatly beside Jey’s Mercedes.

“Look at you with another purple monster,” Damian said, referencing the color of her SUV with a grin.

Rhea laughed, running her hand along the hood of the car. “Jey bought it for me.”

Jey shrugged, a proud smile on his face. “She wanted a family car. Figured this was the one.”

Damian gave a nod of approval, grinning. “Well, you did good, Uce. This thing is clean.”

Rhea slipped into the passenger seat as Jey climbed into the driver’s side. Damian got comfortable in the back, his beer still in hand. Jey started the engine, and the Tahoe rumbled to life, the familiar hum comforting to Rhea.

“Let’s go get your hot Cheetos and nacho cheese preggers,” Jey said with a smirk, backing out of the driveway.

“And don’t forget the beer,” Damian added, already scrolling through his phone for music to play during the drive.

—

March 1st, 2025 6:37 AM

The dim, cold light of the holding cells flickered as Thomas groggily stirred awake on the hard bench that served as his bed. The echoing clang of a baton against the bars jolted him fully upright.

“Cal, Thomas!” the guard barked, his voice sharp and commanding. “You made bail. Get your things.”

Thomas blinked, still disoriented, as he rubbed his eyes and stood up. He glanced around the cell, unsure of what was happening. Who would bail him out? He hadn’t called anyone.

Dragging his feet, Thomas gathered the meager belongings he had and the guard escorted him down the narrow hallway, the sound of their footsteps reverberating off the concrete walls. The air smelled faintly of bleach and sweat, a pungent reminder of where he’d just spent the last week.

As they reached the exit, Thomas squinted against the harsh sunlight that greeted him. Parked directly in front of the facility was a sleek black SUV with heavily tinted windows. The vehicle idled quietly, its polished exterior looking completely out of place against the gritty backdrop of the county lockup.

The rear door of the SUV swung open smoothly, and Thomas froze as a familiar figure stepped out. It was Morris.

Morris adjusted his expensive suit, his movements slow and deliberate, the picture of composure. His piercing eyes locked onto Thomas with an intensity that made his stomach drop.

“I’d get in the car if I were you, Cottonmouth,” Morris said coolly, his voice calm but carrying an undertone of menace.

Thomas gulped audibly, his throat dry. He hadn’t heard anyone call him “Cottonmouth” in two years—he earned the nickname for the way he always managed to talk his way out of trouble. But Morris using it now was no compliment; it was a warning.

Heart pounding, Thomas hesitated for a moment, but the weight of Morris’s gaze left no room for argument. Slowly, he descended the steps of the lockup facility and approached the SUV. He climbed in cautiously, the leather seats cold against his back as the door slammed shut behind him.

His fate undetermined..

—

Meanwhile - Liv and Dominik’s Hotel Room

Liv skipped down the hallway of the hotel, her blonde hair bouncing as she carried a small bag of snacks. When she reached the door to their room, Liv pulled out her keycard with a grin, unlocking the door. The click of the lock echoed softly as they stepped inside.

“Snacks are here!” Liv chirped, dropping the bag onto the bed.

Dominik, already sprawled out on the bed, perked up immediately. His eyes lit up as he saw the familiar red bag. “My Cheetos!” he exclaimed, reaching for the Hot Cheetos like a child grabbing their favorite toy.

Liv laughed, shaking her head. “You and those Cheetos, Dom. I’m gonna hit the bathroom real quick,” she said, disappearing into the bathroom.

“Cool,” Dominik replied, ripping open the bag. “I’ll pick out a movie!”

In the bathroom, Liv shut the door and locked it behind her. Her playful smile faltered as she reached into the pocket of her jacket and pulled out a small box. She stared at it for a moment before opening it and pulling out the test inside.

Her hands trembled slightly as she followed the instructions, quickly taking the test and setting it on the counter.

“Okay, 90 seconds,” she muttered to herself, pacing nervously in the small space. Her mind raced with what-ifs as she anxiously counted down the seconds.

When the timer hit 90, Liv turned back to the counter. She picked up the stick and looked at the small window.

Her mouth dropped open, her eyes widening as she stared at the result.

—

The drive back from the gas station was filled with light conversation and an air of calm, though an undercurrent of tension lingered, at least for Rhea. She sat quietly in the passenger seat, her thoughts bouncing between the events of the day and the unresolved feelings stemming from Jey’s words in Titusville. She hadn’t fully let go of the hurt.. and to be honest, she was afraid of another incident like that happening again.

Back at the house, Damian finished the last of his beer with Jey, sharing a few more laughs about old times before excusing himself to his guest room. “Alright, Uso, I’m out. Don’t do anything stupid,” Damian said with a smirk as he walked up the stairs.

Jey chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah. Goodnight, man.”

As the sound of Damian’s door clicking shut echoed, the house settled into a quiet hum. Jey returned to the living room, where Rhea had already sunk into the couch, her legs curled beneath her, a blanket draped over her lap. She glanced up at him, her expression guarded but soft.

“You want a sprite?” Jey asked, motioning toward the kitchen.

Rhea shook her head. “No, I’m good. Just water, maybe.”

Jey nodded and disappeared into the kitchen for a moment, returning with a glass of water for her and a beer for himself. He handed her the glass and sat down beside her, leaving a respectable amount of space between them.

For a while, they sat in comfortable silence, the faint hum of the refrigerator and the soft ticking of the wall clock filling the room. Jey sipped his beer, stealing glances at Rhea, trying to read her mood. She stared at the television, though it was clear her mind was elsewhere.

“You’re quiet tonight,” Jey finally said, his tone gentle, testing the waters.

Rhea turned to him, her eyes meeting his. “Just thinking,” she replied simply, her voice calm but distant.

Jey hesitated, setting his beer on the coffee table. “About what?”

Rhea took a sip of her water, the coolness grounding her for a moment before she answered. “Everything,” she said softly, her gaze dropping to the glass in her hands.

Jey’s stomach tightened. He shifted closer to her, his voice low and sincere. “Rhea… I know I hurt you. I know I can’t just erase it. But please just.. try to see where I was coming from.”

Rhea let out a small sigh, her fingers tracing the rim of the glass. “It’s not just the words, Jey. It’s… how it made me feel. Like I wasn’t enough. Like I wasn’t doing this right.”

Jey reached for her hand, his touch light but firm. “That’s not what I meant. You’re everything to me, Rhea. I was frustrated with the situation, not you. I took it out on you, and that’s on me.”

She looked at him, her eyes searching his for sincerity. “I understand.”

Jey felt flushed, his grip on her hand tightening slightly. “I promise I’ll do better. No more saying things I don’t mean just because I’m in my head. You deserve better than that, and so does our baby.”

Rhea’s guarded expression softened, though a hint of hesitation still lingered. She wanted to trust his words, to believe he could change. “Okay,” she said after a long pause, her voice still not convince though Jey didn’t press on it more than he already had. “But you have to mean it, Jey. I can’t go through this again.”

“I mean it,” Jey said firmly, his eyes locked on hers. “I’m not perfect, but I’m going to try. For you, for us, for our family.”

Rhea nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Don’t think I won’t call you out if you mess up again,” she teased lightly, her tone softening.

Jey chuckled, relief washing over him. “Fair enough. I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

—

March 1st, 2025 2:36 PM

“Hello, how can I help you?” the airport customer service representative asked, her polite tone masking the tedium of a long shift.

Brent Villanueva, better known as Ball Python, shifted uncomfortably on his feet. His tall frame and lean muscles drew attention from passersby, but he avoided eye contact. The single carry-on bag slung over his shoulder held his few belongings—essentials for a quick escape.

“I need a ticket to Reykjavik,” Brent said firmly.

The representative raised an eyebrow but said nothing, her fingers clicking against the keyboard. “Next flight leaves in four hours. That’ll be $1,937.26.”

Brent pulled out his worn debit card, the edges frayed from years of use. As she processed the transaction, he glanced around nervously. The buzz of the airport surrounded him—families on vacation, business travelers glued to their phones, and tired workers trudging toward their gates.

“Thank you,” she said, handing him the ticket.

Brent nodded, stuffing the paper into his jacket pocket before stepping away from the counter.

He wasn’t running because he wanted to. He was running because staying meant certain death.

Copperhead was gone—word spread fast in their circle, even without direct confirmation. And Cottonmouth? Well, Cottonmouth was just stubborn enough to think he could survive whatever King Cobra threw his way. Brent wasn’t about to make the same mistake.

Morris, the man they all feared and called King Cobra, wouldn’t waste time tracking down his so-called “loyal followers.” Brent knew he’d already painted a target on his back the moment he joined *****’s plan to kill Black Mamba. He just didn’t think Morris would take Mamba’s side…

Brent tightened his grip on the strap of his bag and made his way toward the security checkpoint. The loudspeaker above crackled with boarding announcements, each word a reminder that time was running out.

He couldn’t help but think of the other two men still in Pensacola. Maybe they would make it out, but more than likely… they wouldn’t. Brent had seen it before: the calculated way Morris cleaned house, ensuring no loose ends.

As he approached the TSA line, his heart pounded. He was almost free, but deep down, a voice inside of him whispered: Can you ever truly escape King Cobra’s venom?

The airport was cold, the fluorescent lights casting a sterile glow. Brent stepped forward, the weight of his decision pressing on his shoulders. He didn’t look back. He couldn’t.

Four hours later, when the plane roared into the sky, Brent Villanueva left Pensacola far behind… or did he?

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