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Chapter 3

December 7th, 4:01 a.m.

"I'm glad that's taken care of..." Yes, those were the first words out of my mouth, not "What are you doing here?" or "Let's fuck." I am drunk, but that's not an excuse, legal or otherwise.

I guess Jeff was expecting another response 'coz we just stare at each other.

"Are you gonna tell me what happened or should I wait for the police to arrive?" I'm trying to make sense of this which in my present state is not easy.

"Adam started ragging on me..."

"What more could he do?" I'm not sure if I want to hear the rest of this.

"He said that fags like us don't deserve to live."

"Okay... then what?"

"Are you sure? I don't want to drag you into this, man."

"Too late. I'm involved now." I usually draw the line at quoting DiCaprio, but this is an extraordinary situation.

"I told him that he didn't feel that way when I was sucking his dick." Jeff smiles

A vibrant image comes to mind. I immediately file it away for later use, like when I'm all alone and can't sleep.

"A lie, I hope."

"Anyway, he didn't take it too well." I'm not sure if that was a denial or not.

"So when did you find the time to, uh,..."

"Take care of business? About the same time you were taking care of Jesse and Festus."

"Gee, thanks. You leave me to get beaten up in the ring while you have all the fun."

"Hey, he jumped me." I don't know why Jeff is defending his actions. I would've done the same. Hell, 99 percent of the locker room thinks Edge was out of line. Anyway, I'm dozing off again.

6:45 a.m.

"Oh boy..." I have just been awakened by several loud bangs on my door, followed by "Open up, police!"

At some point Jeff has taken off. Smart move. But he left me to deal with the cops. Not-so-smart move. Not being entirely sober, I am hoping that I can use this to get rid of the police post-haste.

"Whaddaya want?"

"Can we come in?"

"Shurrrrr..." It's over the top, I know, but I'm drunk for two right now. "What seems to be the problem, officer?" I throw in a few fake hiccups and the cops fall for it.

"May we ask you a few questions, Mr. Stryker?"

"It's Hardy now..." Damn, that slipped out at the wrong time.

Officer A makes a note of this in his incident book.

"Okay, Mister Hardy..." I can tell this may come back to bite me in the ass but right now I don't give a rip. I did nothing wrong, other than not dealing with Edge myself. "Can you account for your actions earlier tonight?"

"Huh?" Normally I'd answer right away, but I'm playing the role of the half-awake lush. Not too much of a stretch, at least that's what half the locker room thinks... Anyhow, I'm digressing.

"Where were you between the hours of ten p.m. and midnight yesterday...?"

"Getting my ass kicked in the ring... what's this all about?"

"How well do you know Adam Copeland?" Officer B inquires... I'm sure they have names but I really don't want to take the time to make friends.

"We were almost friends until he shattered my face with a chair... either tell me what's going on or I'm calling my lawyer!" Sounding indignant, I knock several of the small bottles off the side table in pretending to reach for the phone, conveniently collapsing on the bed. If they call my bluff, I only hope my lawyer doesn't mind being awoken early.

"Some time last night Adam Copeland was attacked."

"Attacked! By who... oh yeah, if you knew you wouldn't be here..." If I can pull this off, I should be up for an Oscar.

"You haven't answered our question?" B is definitely taking charge. It is mildly uncomfortable having a cop lean over you while you are in bed, but I've been in worse situations before. Although this does remind of a porno I watched once...

"We didn't have much of a relationship." I'm trying to seem calm, but the combination of booze and trying to keep my stories straight is really giving me a headache. "At least not after he busted my face with a chair."

"Sounds like a motive to me..." A mutters. Both his partner and I ignore this. Me out of character and I don't think B heard him.

"We have a witness who says you threatened to kill him earlier that night."

So much for locker-room camaraderie. I'm gonna talk to Jericho ASAP...

"Well?"

"We both said stuff..." I'm still trying to remain calm. I know way too much for my own good right now and I'm sure the officers can sense that. If not, they're about as useful as the WWE "security" forces.

"You still haven't accounted for your whereabouts?"

"I went to a club and got drunk... came back here and drank some more and then I probably passed out."

"Hmmm... can anyone vouch for you?"

"Talk to the bouncers... I'm sure they'll remember a wrestler getting blotted... after that, I dunno..."

"One last question, what is your relationship with Jeff Hardy?"

That's the one thing I wish they had not asked.

"We're friends." At least I think we are, but I don't add that part.

"Good friends?" Oh yes, I know where this is going.

"Is my sex life really important to your investigation?" Honestly, I'd tell them that Jeff and I are aliens from the planet Fagola if it would get them out of my hotel room. Especially once I see that Jeff is hiding on my fire escape.

"Just asking..."

"I've told you all I can remember. Unless you have a warrant, this interview is over!"

"Here's my card... if you think of anything else, give me a call!" Mumbling something which could either be an apology or an indication that they think I'm guilty, the Keystone Kops finally leave. Oh, by the way, I could go to jail just for repeating our conversation, but I'm pretty sure the morons won't be able to find my blog... hell, most of the time I can't find it! LOL!!!!!!!

Maybe two minutes pass before Jeff climbs in, visibly shivering. I guess hiding on a fire escape in minus 20 degree weather will do that to some people. I guess only wearing your wrestling gear might have had something to do with it, but I haven't hidden on a fire escape since my college days... remind me to tell you that story sometime.

"Th-th-th-th-..." Jeff is stuttering more than Matt Morgan used to. Stupid gimmick. Whether it's from the cold or the adrenaline leaving his system, I'm not sure.

I grab the quilt from the other bed and wrap it around him. He's still shivering so I wrap myself around him as well.

"Thanks...." Why Jeff didn't go back to his hotel room I don't know. Since we weren't on speaking terms, we both made separate arrangements.

"You're welcome." I'm not letting him go, though. "Do you want to tell me how badly you beat him?" If I'm gonna take the fall for this, which I figure is probably the best solution right bow, I should be able to explain what I did in court.

Jeff looks at the floor. "I don't know... it's all a blur."

"Just play it cool, then... I'll figure a way out of this... I'll call Jericho and see what's going on... we're gonna need some help and since he told the fuzz that I threatened to kill Edge..."

"Huh?"

"Maybe he did, maybe he didn't... that's what I thought the cop said." I better not jump to too many conclusions. I have a hunch we're gonna need him.

Anyway, I think better on a full stomach so we order room service and eventually fall back alseep, Jeff once more locked in my arms... but who knows for how long???

December 8th,. 5:12 p.m.

Jeff, Chris, John Cena, and I are sitting down to dinner and guess what the topic of conversation is... duh!

Usually at this time of year, every one is starting to get into the holiday spirit. I say usually. I'm still trying to figure out what going on in Jeff's head. Since last night he's gone back into his shell. Okay, maybe I will take him on Dr. Phil, but that's only as a last resort... maybe Springer would be better?????????

"What exactly did you tell the cops?" Chris has been very evasive over the subject since I first called him earlier today. I figured he didn't want to tell me over the phone which is why I hunted him out for dinner. And Cena just sort of showed up so I made a split decision to trust him. If the shit hits the fan, he'll keep his mouth shut... I hope.

Chris seems to find his mashed potatoes (I hope that's what it is) very interesting.

"Hey... I ain't mad... but if we're gonna help Jeff, I need all the information I can get."

"I told them what you said..."

"That line about killing him?" If anything that proves that my word is crap. Usually when I say I'm gonna do something, I do it! Although I've never actually considered whether or not I could actually kill someone. Physically, it's no problem, but do I have the mentality to do it... hmmm!

I'm digressing again. Sorry. If the police ever get a hold of this, I'm in real fuckin' trouble. I'm counting on anyone who reads this to keep their mouths shut! I'm not sure if blogs can be used as evidence or not... I guess they might have a hard time proving who submitted it... augh! Sorry, I'm really scattershot today.

Okay, back to the dinner conversation. I'm pretty sure that what we agreed to do is just keep a low profile and hope that via some miracle Jeff did enough of a number on Edge that he doesn't remember exactly what happened... hey it happens on Days of our Lives all the time, doesn't it? (Holy run-on sentence!)

December 15th, 2:46 p.m.

Sorry I've been away for a while, but Vince has been working us like crazy. Let me catch you up on the last week. We got lucky. Adam suffered severe head trauma (I know how bad that sounds, but it's my blog and I'll rat on him if I want to!) and he hasn't remembered anything at all about that night. Vince held the draft early... I think he suspects something is up, but, like the cops, he can't prove anything. So, Edge was drafted to Smackdown in absentia, Jeff and I are still on Raw, but things haven't gotten any better, couple-wise. He's been spending a lot of time with Jericho and I've been hanging around by myself a lot.

Thankfully Chris has been keeping me informed about Jeff. He doesn't have to and I'm sure that if Jeff knew what Chris was telling me, he'd get royally pissed. I won't elaborate out of respect... but I'm sure you can figure out what going on!

I'm writing this while I'm waiting for Vince to ask if I can have the 18th off. He's booked me in a house show in Los Angeles, but I really need to be somewhere else that day. I don't want to do this, but I feel a responsibility. If not to anyone else, to myself.

"You waiting for Vince?" Cena has been the one person I can rely on, though he's smart enough not to force himself on me. I trust him, but that doesn't mean I'm gonna be stupid about it.

"Yeah." I return to my blogging. I really don't want to talk right now. My mind is racing.

"Blogging again?" Some of the guys like to joke about my new-found obsession. Yeah, if they only knew about some of the things I wrote. In case you were wondering, Cena's is eight-and-a-half inches. Maybe some time I'll tell you how I know...

"Yeah." I'm getting repetitive "Just keeping body and soul together."

"You goin' home for Christmas?"

"Dunno. Not like I got a lot of family right now."

"Oh."

"Has Jeff said anything to you about... y'know, us?"

"Naw, man, you should talk to Jericho about that.."

"I have, but Jericho hasn't said squat..." I'll leave it at that.

"You want me to talk to him...?"

"It's cool..." The fuck it is... I feel like I am standing on a cliff with one foot on a banana peel and my neck in a noose all at once.

"Okay... you know where I am if..."

"Thanks for the offer but I am fine!" What a liar... if I were Pinocchio, my nose would be out to Ron Jeremy proportions.

"Sure... Later?" I'm not sure if that's a question, but I'm nodding and returning to my laptop.

December 18, 4:00 p.m.

I got lucky again. When I told Vince what I needed time off for... no matter how hard I try, I can't lie very well to him so I don't bother anymore, he changing my itinerary. So I fly back to NC and wonder of wonders, Jeff is on the same flight as me. I don't know if he expected to see me today or not, but whatever... if this thing is gonna work, I got make it seem like I'm trying. And until he returns the ring, I'm gonna do everything I can!

It's probably not the best thing to follow him around like a lost puppy (or Ryder and Hawkins), but still I wait until he gets his rent-a-car and then I do follow him, in a cab, to the cemetery. Vince let it slip that Jeff had also asked for time off and I put two and two together and guess what... I got four!

I give it five minutes after he pulls in before I follow him. I booked after the service at the church so I don't have any idea where they buried Matt. I just keep him in my line of sight.

4:30 p.m.

Okay, this might be my last entry for a while. I'm typing as fast as I can before all hell breaks loose.

I'll keep it short... I give Jeff his moment in front of the grave. They buried Matt right next to his mother, which I thought was very nice. I know he didn't expect me 'coz the guy jumps when I put my hand on him.

"Eric... I..."

"Don't say anything... We don't have much time..." I know that I've been followed from the airport. "Just remember I love you and I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

"But..." Jeff finally sees the cops...

"Eric Hardy... we have a warrant for your arrest."

Did I say "Oh Boy!" yet?

To Be Continued

Stay tuned for more pricing games and the fabulous showcases coming up on the second half of "The Price is Right"...

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