The Way to Eden

"Whatcha doin' up so late?" Jeff asked Sin trying to sound oblivious to her flirting tone.

"I could ask you the same question."

"I was watchin' TV," he said in a teasing voice of his own. "Yaw turn."

"I was trying to come down from my after-match high," she sighed. "I get so juiced that it's hard to turn it off when I get home."

"'Ave some good matches then?"

"I won, so that's always good for me."

"Should I ask?"

"No."

The woman didn't even pretend not to understand what he meant by that question. And he doubted she was telling him she'd done what he asked and avoided cutting her opponents. No, she was informing him that she cut them to spite him. And yet she still wanted to speak to him. She was a paradox unlike any other. Even Rio had been easier to decipher, and she'd been no simple task.

"O-kay," he sighed.

"Sorry to disappoint you," she replied, sounding anything but sorry. "I am what I am. It's how I survive."

"It don' hafta be tha' way," he protested. "But I don' wanna fight witchew now. How ya feelin'? Are ya sore?"

"No," she answered hesitantly. It was as if she didn't know how to deal with someone showing concern for her welfare. 'Get used to it,' he said quietly to himself. 'I'm not backing off.'

"Tha's good."

"Why do you care?"

"I like ya."

"Hardly," she laughed.

"I's true," he frowned into the phone.

"You weren't happy with me the night we met and you're more than a little disgusted with me after learning that I cut my adversaries tonight. What's there to like, Jeff?"

"There's mo' to a person than their occupation," he argued. "Do ya think th' only thin' that defines me is wrestlin'? 'Cause if so, yaw wrong."

"Enlighten me then."

"Fine," he said sitting up in his bed with exasperation. "I like ta spend time wit' my pets. They're great listeners. An' I like ta ride my dirt bike, tho' my brotha hates when I do that."

"Interesting."

"I also write poetry an' songs," he added. "I can write all day long sometimes. The beauty of th' words captivates me. My brotha used ta have ta drag me t' th' arena sometimes when I'm so involved inna lyric."

"I thought you were 'extreme'."

"I am," he said defensively. "There are times when writin's th' only thin' that groun's me. I's like a life preserver in th' sea of confusion fo' me. I's 'ow I vent thin's."

Sin was silent on the other end of the line. Jeff was hoping he didn't lose her interest. Sometimes when people didn't understand something, they abandoned it in search of a more comprehensible object.

"When I need to vent I take my emotions out to the ring with me," she finally said. "It's what I was taught to do. Frustration can be a formidable ally in the ring."

"But what do ya do ta feed yo' soul?"

"My soul?" she asked uncertainly.

"Yeah," he said. "That thin' inside ya that makes ya uniquely YOU."

"I never thought about it," she said pensively. "I've always just done what I had to do."

"Ya said i's what ya are, right?"

"Yes," she replied. "I am what I am."

"Are ya really?"

"I don't follow."

"'Ow can ya be sure ya are whatcha are if ya neva thought 'bout yo' soul?" Jeff asked proud of himself for neatly cornering her with that revelation. It was slow work, but Sin was responding. She silently pondered his point, so he decided to press a little further. "I mean, I kno' yo' good at whatcha do. Excellent, really. But 'ow can ya be sure i's what ya love doin' best if i's all ya eva did?"

"It's what I was taught."

"But ya haven' been taught ta follow yo' own interests."

"These are my interests."

"Were they always?"

"Yes," she said firmly. "I'm tired of talking about this now."

"Okay," he said smiling. He knew he'd gotten under her skin with this latest turn of conversation so he was willing to back off for now. "Yo' company doesn' travel, does it?"

"No," she said a bit sadly. "It stays where it's based."

"So ya neva got ta see th' rest of th' country?"

"Some," she replied. "We moved around a bit when I was growing up. I've lived in New York, California, New Hampshire, New Mexico and now Florida. I've visited Mexico and Canada, too."

"When you were followin' Rio," he concluded for her.

"Yes," she said tightly. "When we followed Rio's career. My trainer took me to all of her matches when he first found out about her. He wanted me to be just like her."

"Why?"

"She fought her way to the top in a man's world," Sin sighed. "My trainer admired her for that."

"Did you?"

"I did," she admitted. "I wanted to earn respect like she did and take no shit doing it. She never sustained a hit from her opponents. Not even in her rookie matches. That's really quite unheard of. In my own rookie matches, I broke my wrist once and my toes numerous times."

"She's amazin'."

"She was."

"Is," Jeff enunciated, growing annoyed.

"She's no longer a champion as far as I'm concerned," Sin snorted. "I saw the match she threw to fake her death. She knew the odds were against her in the long run. Although that particular idiot was of no threat, there would be others. She took the coward's way out."

"Tha' what you were told ta believe?" he asked incredulously.

"It's what my own eyes told me."

"Then ya need ta git 'em checked," he growled. "I was there, too, an' lata when she resurfaced. She threw tha' fight 'cause she 'eard 'er boss threaten ta come afta 'er frien's. In particular, me. She neva woulda come back eitha if I didn' challenge Sasquatch myself. Fightin' didn' define 'er. 'Er heart did, an' it tol' 'er ta leave befo' someone she loved got 'urt."

"Whatever."

"Don' dismiss 'er, Sin," he warned. "She's no coward."

"She left for a man."

"She lef' fo' 'erself," he continued. "Whoeva tol' ya 'er story don' kno' 'er from a hole in th' wall. She wen' inta th' Series ta fo'get 'er forma existence an' th' husban' an' baby she lost. She left it fo' a man who wan'sa 'elp 'er rebuild 'er life."

"Why wasn't that man you?" Sin sneered.

"I used ta ask myself that," he conceded. "Bu' since 'e's my bes' frien', I got ova it."

"I still think she wasted her talents."

"Yeah, me too," Jeff agreed. "Only she wasted them on tha' bastahd boss o' 'ers."

"From what I hear, he paid well."

"Sure, bu' it only cos' 'em their lives."

"She's not dead."

"No, an' neitha is 'er predecessor," he revealed. "Bu' they're th' only champions lef' alive. Henry poisoned all th' res."

"Sasquatch is alive, too."

"'E wasn' a champ," Jeff scoffed. "'E neva defeated 'er. Bu' all th' otha champs are dead. Ev'ry one o' them."

"That's just a rumor."

"Tha's a fact," he said. "If yo' any good wit' computers, ya can check it out yo'self."

"I have to go."

"Sin, don' go 'way mad."

"I'm not mad at you, Jeff," she sighed. "This was just all a little much to assimilate in one night."

"I unnerstan'," he replied. "Yaw still gonna call me?"

"Yes, Jeff, I will. Goodnight."

"'Night, baby," he said softly before he heard her click off.

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Eden tossed her phone onto the bed and began pacing her bedroom. It shouldn't matter what happened in the past, right? Henry paid her to do a job and Samuel was counting on her to do it. She wanted to make him happy and knew that she would do this no matter what developed between her and Jeff. But it nagged at her that Henry could have been killing off his former champions. If he'd still been in business, who's to say she wouldn't have been one of his victims? She'd been determined to follow in Rio's footsteps, even after her 'death', and would have naturally joined the Series to do so. And she wouldn't have rested until the golden belt was hers. Samuel would've expected no less of her.

She glanced at her laptop and sighed again. She knew she wouldn't be able to sleep tonight until she verified the facts for herself. Samuel would have undoubtedly admonished her for wasting precious regenerative time on something so foolish. He kept her to a rigid training schedule that allowed for no less than six hours of sleep per night. He enforced his rule rather strictly, too. If she slept past her wake up call, he physically tossed her out of bed. But she was on her own right now and she knew sleep would evade her tonight. She switched on the screen and set to work.

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Jeff tossed and turned in his own bed trying to settle down. His conversation with Sin had him on edge. She'd really believed Rio left because of cowardice? How can that be when the little silver warrior spent all of her energy fighting her way to the top? It didn't make sense and he knew Sin would eventually come to the same conclusion when she rethought the case. He knew Sin had been fed a load of garbage from the man who raised and trained her. Why, though?

He was glad he could challenge her on her true nature, too. It seemed she'd never really considered her own interests to be of any consequence and just adopted her trainer's visions as her own. If he could get her to continue to question her own upbringing he would have a greater chance of convincing her to let him save her. And it was becoming increasingly important to him the more he spoke to her, got to know her, cared for her. He found himself identifying with her and grieved for the childhood she'd never had the chance to enjoy. This was a girl whose life was stolen. The man who 'saved' her had his own agenda. Well, that was going to change, Jeff vowed.

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There it was in front of her. Three hours after hanging up with Jeff, Eden researched the Series from the time it began to its final days. She'd listed all of the past champions, many of whom had used aliases, but Eden knew how to trace them. Samuel had trained her to investigate every potential opponent carefully and she knew where to go to find the real information. All of the men on the lengthy list in front of her were dead. None of the causes were listed specifically as poison, but all died in a similar manner: they expired after a brief coma state shortly after their last title defenses. The hospitals, mostly Mexican, didn't delve too deeply into the circumstances as all were known fighters. It was too neatly done. Eden conceded to herself that Jeff was right.

However, she knew it changed nothing. Henry's past was of no forbearance on the future. He'd contracted her to eliminate Jeff Hardy and that's what she had to do. But now the task weighed heavily upon her because she was beginning to believe what he was telling her. She would have to train harder and longer to keep her mind from his unnerving questions. There was no room for mercy here. Eden set her alarm for six o'clock and settled in for an unrestful night's sleep.