Second Nature

by Ric Flair

  In a matter of twenty-four hours, I was on WWE programming twice in front of a live audience: once onstage at WrestleMania in front of more than seventy-four thousand people and a worldwide pay-per-view audience, and second on Monday Night Raw, also in front of a live audience and broadcast on live television! I was petrified, and I thought, I knew I should’ve brought a third dress!

  Watching his speech from the monitor backstage was a special moment. When I saw him hug Uncle Arn in the ring, it brought me right back to the days of hugging them on our deck, the backyard explorations during Easter egg hunts, and vacations with both our families.

  When Batista came to the ring, I thought of how much fun we had with him at my dad and Tiffany’s wedding. I’ll always have a sentimental feeling about Ricky Steamboat and the time we spent with his family as children. I heard so many great stories about my dad and Harley Race and knew that Reider trained at his wrestling school. My dad was closely linked to Greg Valentine and his dad, Johnny, early in his career. Seeing Dean Malenko backstage before he went to the ring reminded me of all the great times Reider and I had with him when we were kids in WCW. And my dad became good friends with Chris Jericho and John Cena during this time in WWE. And yes, what my dad said at the Hall of Fame was true—Megan and I did think Chris looked like Jon Bon Jovi, but we never thought my dad would say that!

  When it was our turn to walk through the curtain, once again, my legs trembled and I had goose bumps. To walk to the ring on Raw in some ways was more terrifying because the night before, we walked to a point on the stage and waved to the crowd. On Raw, we walked down the ramp and into the ring. I asked myself, How is this happening two nights in a row?

  And then Shawn Michaels came out, followed by the entire WWE locker room. I felt like my dad was not just my hero, he was everyone else’s too.

  We knew to exit the ring once we heard the Undertaker’s music. To be so close to the ring during that entrance was an indescribable experience. I know my brother David worked with Undertaker and could speak to that experience firsthand. For Reider, I considered this to be another moment that made his drive to become a wrestler and carry on the Flair name even stronger.

  I couldn’t believe that Mr. McMahon also came out to honor our father. I knew he was always very supportive of my dad and treated him extremely well. As the show came to an end, which I found out later, it ended for people on TV before the Undertaker came out. Seeing my dad smiling in the ring with his children was the perfect way to end the night.

  * * *

  As we prepared to return to our own lives on Tuesday morning, I felt such love from and for my dad. I believed that WrestleMania weekend reunited him with me and my siblings, and me with them. We were always so close. All my memories are of us doing things together and always being there for each other. For example, after my sister, Megan, graduated from college, she moved from Minnesota to Charlotte to be closer to Reider and me. She came to all our sports functions and special events. When I was in high school, if I wasn’t home, you could find me at Megan’s with her family.

  Thanks to my dad and siblings, for that weekend in Orlando, I returned to who I was.

  Over the past few years, I’ve said a lot of hurtful things to my dad. I was hurt, I was angry, and I was immature. I felt lost without my family and didn’t know how to deal with the uncertainty of what life would be like without all of us being together.

  My dad always forgave me after I said those things. That weekend, it was time that I forgave him. We had to rebuild our relationship. This trip was an incredible way to start us on our path. Seeing how happy he was with us from the moment we arrived in Orlando to the time we said goodbye in the hotel, that process began and I didn’t even realize it. The hug we shared in the hotel lobby before we went our separate ways was one of the strongest we’d had in a long time. Wrestling kept him away from his family more than he wanted, but it was wrestling that brought us back together.

  People commented to me during the weekend how much they enjoyed meeting and speaking with Riki. I couldn’t understand why he couldn’t be that way all the time and, even more so, why he could be that way with everyone except for me. Why was there this level of hostility toward me?

  One of the things I looked forward to that fall was my dad visiting us in Chapel Hill. Riki’s sister was also in town that weekend. I always tried to have a good relationship with her. For some reason, I wanted her approval. She did everything but give it. She kept in touch with his ex-girlfriends and always brought them up in conversation. She’d make a point to say how “perfect” a certain girl was and went to great lengths to make me feel like an outsider. I found her to be moody and manipulative.

  When my dad came into town, I thought it would be nice for Riki’s sister to join us at dinner. After we came back to our apartment, the fun mood from the restaurant suddenly changed.

  Riki’s substance abuse worsened in previous months, and it was to the point where it was beyond doing things at parties. After everyone went to bed, he wanted to call someone to get things that would “keep the night going.”

  We started arguing because he knew I did not want anything like that in the apartment. My dad had zero tolerance for drugs. The more I insisted, the more Riki persisted, and we were in the midst of another heated exchange.

  My dad woke up and came into the room. He tried to calm things down. He and Riki had words, and I thought that was going to be it. All of a sudden, Riki threw punches at my dad. I became hysterical. The neighbors called the police. When the police arrived, I was in a frantic state of mind. I was not drunk. In the emotion of what had just occurred, I was not thinking clearly. I couldn’t believe what I had just seen. I was also worried because I was afraid that if Riki had something illegal in the apartment and the police found it, we could be in serious trouble, on top of the fact that my dad would then know what went on. All this happening at once made me feel like the ceiling was slowly caving in on me.

  When the officer asked me to put my hands behind my back, I was hysterical and did not do what I was asked. I told the officer to get his hands off me. I know I shouldn’t have done that. I know how it looked. The reality was I wasn’t purposely disobeying his request; I was showing that as a twenty-two-year-old, I couldn’t handle what was going on and I made a mistake. I wanted to make sure that Riki and my dad did not get into trouble. I also was worried about how Riki would treat me the next day and what myriad of mysterious factors would play a part in that.6

  The story was reported in the media, and it turned into something it wasn’t. Since this was the only time I had gotten into any type of trouble, there was a fine and community service.

  These scenarios grew worse and worse. Issues with members of my family became more prevalent because now, this showed there was “something” to what people may have feared. If there was an argument between Riki and one of my siblings or my parents, I took Riki’s side or ignored the situation, and I avoided conversations with anyone after the occurrence.

  By this point, the trend was that after something happened, things would calm down. And when things were going well, I loved Riki, and I thought it signified a turning point in our relationship, especially with what happened at Christmastime.

  We were a few weeks removed from Reider’s in-ring debut at an independent wrestling event in Charlotte. He and my brother David worked as a tag team. My dad was in their corner. It was a special night. We all sat in the front row, and my dad addressed the crowd. We were so proud of Reider and David. Riki was there too. After the incident at our apartment, he apologized to my dad, who focused on moving on.

  My entire family was set to go to my dad’s house for Christmas Eve dinner. Before Riki and I went there, we were at my Piper Glen house with my mom. Riki asked me to come talk to him in my bedroom.

  I walked in and saw a huge wrapped gift box and a decorative present bag next to it. He told me to open the bag first. I pulled out a blue bathrobe with my favorite face mask. He s
aid this was for relaxation. I put the robe on and enjoyed the moment with him. I opened the box to another box to another box to another box to the tiniest box and saw “Fink’s.” If you lived in Charlotte, especially if you were a member of the Fliehr family, you knew that Fink’s was a jewelry store my dad had gone to for years for all the women in the family!

  When I opened the box, Riki got down on one knee and proposed. The ring’s diamond was from an old setting my mother had from a “Past, Present, Future” necklace my dad gave her. It gleamed with a timeless beauty. I thought this could be it. This could be things turning around, and the symbolism of asking for my hand in marriage with a rare piece of jewelry from my mother’s collection was all I needed to say, “Yes.”

  I ran downstairs to my mom. She was smiling from ear to ear. She was so proud to see me wearing her diamond. I didn’t sense she was proud that I accepted it from Riki, but she didn’t know, like anyone else, for sure, about the darker side of our relationship. She was happy that I was happy.

  We had Christmas Eve dinner at my dad’s house. By this point, his relationship with Tiffany was over, and he was seeing a woman named Jackie. Jackie and my mom got along, so my mom being there for Christmas Eve dinner was a nice surprise, especially given the added reason to celebrate. We had the traditional Fliehr family Christmas Eve dinner: shrimp cocktail, salad, filet mignon, and baked potato.

  My mom and dad made the occasion extra special with getting a cake and serving champagne.

  Whether my dad liked the idea or not, he was happy for me. We all had a wonderful time together with two people who would become new members of the Fliehr family.

  When Riki proposed, I had a feeling it was coming, but I wasn’t exactly sure how he was going to do it. In looking back that day, I should’ve known something was up when my mom said out of the blue, “You should get your nails done today, honey. Why don’t you get a French manicure?”

  I thought the good times we had meant “good” and that I was in love. Riki and I had talked about getting married. I was a full-time student at the time. He was finishing his degree at UNC–Chapel Hill and worked part-time jobs. We were not in any stable situation, financial or otherwise, to get engaged. But we did.

  I don’t know how happy my family was that I said yes to marrying Riki, but they were happy that I was happy. As I looked ahead to planning a wedding, I thought that the bad times were behind us and it was time for my “happily ever after.”

  13

  I THOUGHT IT WAS JUST DINNER

  I had nothing to lose but my life.

  June 2010

  Riki graduated from college a semester before I did. During my senior year, we lived in an apartment in Raleigh. Riki worked six days a week at the animal hospital down the road from our place. Most of his time during the day consisted of cleaning the animal crates and taking care of the animals.

  My remaining classes at NC State were split between taking them on campus and online. I wish that online had been possible when we lived in Chapel Hill so I could have saved that commute time. A part of me loved the flexibility of splitting up my classes. At the same time, taking classes online added to my isolation. I didn’t leave the apartment unless it was for school or to go running, go grocery shopping, or take Riki somewhere. I never hung out with friends or did things just for fun. Over the last two years, running became an escape for me. Rain or shine, I ran every day to songs by Lady Gaga and Kings of Leon that shuffled on my iPod.

  I didn’t realize it at the time, but everything I did had a purpose. I cleaned the apartment, did the laundry, walked and fed the dogs. Riki’s hospital scrubs were washed and folded on the seam every night. I woke up with him at 5:00 a.m. and made him breakfast even though I didn’t have to be up for anything myself. We still had our dogs from when we met: Riki’s bloodhound, Yonder, and my Cavalier King Charles, Louis. We got a third one together: a chocolate Labrador named Captain Junuh. They were like my children.

  When I think about it now, Riki and I lived like we were fifty-year-olds who’d been married for thirty years. I acted like a 1950s TV housewife except that I was in my early twenties in the 2000s. I had my whole life ahead of me. I became a servant to my fiancé. There was never anything done with me in mind. My needs were never a concern. How did I end up in this environment filled with physical, emotional, and verbal abuse? Why did I think that was okay? I was in such need of help.

  * * *

  A highlight of my senior year was when my mom, Reider, Megan, and her daughter, Morgan, stayed with us for Thanksgiving. Reider’s battle with addiction became more known the year before when he was pulled over and drugs were found in his car. My parents sent him to rehab. He wanted to get better. When my brother was doing well, he looked great, sounded great, and was completely focused on pursuing his dream of a wrestling career. Our family, like many with a loved one battling addiction, learned that the challenge escalated when attempted recovery turned to relapse. Often when an addict relapses, it raises the level of substance abuse to a more severe level than before.

  I went to the grocery store to get everything for our holiday dinner. I passed a box of Keebler Club crackers in one of the aisles. When I saw the green box, it reminded me of when I was a kid and helped Grandmommy crumble up the crackers as part of her casserole recipe. I stumbled on things like that every now and then. It reminded me of how my life used to be so different.

  At home, when I looked at myself in the mirror, I felt like I wasn’t there. I was lost without my family, without my friends, without sports. Where was I? Who had I become? I couldn’t wait to see everyone, especially my brother.

  Things between Riki and me had been relatively calm in the couple of months that led up to our wedding. I was focused on graduating from NC State and looked ahead to our May 24 wedding day, but I was still sure that I was to blame for the violence that defined my life. During our relationship, I went through periods when I believed that my fiancé was seeing another woman. In the beginning of 2010, the thought that Riki was cheating on me triggered our most frightening confrontation.

  It was Sunday night. I was watching the Grammy Awards in the living room. Riki was nodding off in bed watching TV. I took his phone from the charger and brought it into the living room to go through his text messages and emails—searching for evidence—to prove that my suspicions of his infidelity were true. That night, I was determined to find out. One would think I already had every reason to leave. I was always looking for something. Maybe I wanted to uncover some kind of proof and it could be my way out. Then I couldn’t be blamed for anything. If I did discover something, though, what would I do?

  I sat on the couch and scrolled through the text messages on his phone. I tapped Inbox on his email. I scrolled. I tapped Sent and scrolled. Then I went to his deleted messages—then I went through that folder again—there it was. It was a message thread with an ex-girlfriend. I looked at the date of the message and put the pieces together. My heart raced as I connected the dots and realized that these messages were sent on his birthday—after we went out. When we got home that night, I went to sleep. Riki stayed up. I wondered, Did this girl come to the apartment? Did he go out and meet her somewhere while I was asleep? What happened that night? No matter how much Riki insisted that I was delusional for thinking like that, I always believed there was someone else. I just didn’t know how steady it was and if there was more than one girl.

  I walked into the bedroom and shook his shoulder. When he woke up, I showed him the phone and asked, “What is this?” Right away, he started shouting at me. He launched himself out of bed and then did something I never imagined, even during my most disturbing thoughts of what was going to happen during our next fight. He pulled out the gun he kept in our bedroom that had been given to him by a childhood friend.

  I ran as fast as I could. I made it out the front door and into my truck. Thankfully, I had my car keys with me. I locked the doors and started the engine. The radio came on, and I turned it of
f right away. My eyes were filled with tears. I couldn’t see past the steering wheel. It was difficult to breathe. Was Riki going to come after me? Was he going to shoot me in my vehicle? Was this how my life was going to end? I didn’t know what to do. Where could I go? My first instinct was to call Brittany. But that night, North Carolina was hit with one of those severe ice storms that tore its way through the area about every five years. That wasn’t an option.

  Hours later, I went back into the apartment. I felt a chill in my body as I walked through the door. I curled up on the couch and lay there in the dark, trying to make sense of it all. The fear of what would happen once the sun rose kept me awake. I couldn’t wonder anymore. I eventually fell asleep.

  The next morning, Riki told me that our relationship was over. He continued to insist that my actions set him off and made him do something this terrible. According to Riki, all this was my fault. My heart sank. I felt like the ground underneath me had crumbled and my world had ended. By searching through his phone, I had found concrete evidence of his infidelity. Of that I was certain. Now I was listening to him rant and rave, saying that I had driven him to this kind of vicious behavior.

  That morning, the violence continued. I remember being pushed and feeling my arms above my elbows being squeezed. The episode ended when I apologized and begged him not to end our relationship. During this period, everyone in my family knew that Reider battled addiction. At one point, we had a family intervention. He was determined to get better. What no one knew, with the exception one or two people, was that I was just as sick. In a different way, I was surrounded by darkness with no light in sight.