22. Having told Chris Irvine that he would drop in when he returned to prove he hadn't done something stupid and with Shannon's leather jacket resting on the passenger seat of his rented car, Chris Benoit headed for the address he had been given, all the while asking himself if this was such a good idea. He knew that Irvine didn't think it was, but that was only because he was convinced his sole objective was to inflict some serious pain on Billy.

"And wouldn't I love to?" he thought with a quick grin, "But HE won't be there. And anyway, I'm just doing a favour for a friend. I suppose it is really late though - she's gonna think it's weird I didn't just wait 'til a decent hour."

Then another thought hit him, making him scowl and grip the steering wheel tightly. "Maybe she IS with HIM, maybe he will be there. Maybe he's not normally so ..... so what? Arrogant, jealous, selfish, domineering, obnoxious .....? Maybe she ..... loves him? NO! Not after everything she said; it's not like they've been together for months; and anyway, he barely acknowledges her at times - bastard! How could he treat someone like Shannon the way he does? I wish ...... ah, forget it - there's no point going down that road again. I'll just go give her the jacket and get out of there."

By this time, he had almost reached the block of apartments where Shannon lived and, resisting a sudden urge to just turn the car around, he instead indicated in order to pull into the small car park. As he did so, he heard a sudden squeal of tyres and saw the headlights of a car heading straight for him at a ridiculous speed. Instinctively, he jerked the steering wheel and somehow managed to avoid a collision by a mere matter of inches.

"Watch it, asshole!" he yelled, even though he knew he would not be heard, "Where's the fire?"

Putting the incident out of his mind with a shake of his head, he parked the car and grabbed Shannon's jacket, taking a deep breath before locking the car and striding towards the building. Surprised, and a little annoyed, by how nervous he felt, he took the elevator to the seventh floor and then began looking for the correct number. When he found it, he merely stood looking at the door for a moment as if psyching himself up and then he knocked. When there was no answer, he tried again, shifting impatiently.

"Maybe she's not home yet - car could have broken down or anything." he thought reasonably, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach. "Or maybe they went to HIS place" his mind added unwillingly.

With a frustrated sigh, Chris happened to try the handle, not for a second expecting the result which was rendered by his action. The handle turned in his grasp and the door swung open. After a moment's hesitation, Chris silently apologised to Shannon for the intrusion and then stepped inside.

"Shannon?" he called, his voice tinged with concern, "Shan, you home?"

Glancing around, something in the back of his mind registered the two coffee mugs on the table, but it was another fact which fully drew his attention - the bedroom door had been knocked off its hinges and the shattered remains of a tape recorder lay just outside the doorway.

As icy fingers brushed his heart, Chris hurried across the living room and stepped over the fallen door. Looking around quickly, the sight which greeted him, managing to somehow be both dreaded and unexpected, made him recoil as if from a blow and his blood ran cold.

"Holy shit - Shannon!" he gasped, running to drop to his knees beside her prone body.

She was lying face down on the floor beside her bed, her wavy blonde locks now red and matted with blood at the back of her head. Horrified, Chris reached out, scared to even touch her at first but then lightly nudging her shoulder, praying she would wake up. When she didn't, he carefully turned her onto her back, worried that he was aggravating any injuries she might have but also realising there was a very real possibility that she might have stopped breathing. Although he could still hardly believe this was happening, he checked both her breathing and her pulse, noting the blood and bruising on her cheek as he did so.

"Shan? Honey, it's Chris - can you hear me?" he called into her ear desperately, "C'mon, you gotta wake up - please, Shannon, wake up!"

While he found that she was still breathing and that she had a pulse, the latter was worryingly weak and Chris gave up trying to wake her in favour of jumping up and grabbing the phone. Finding it useless, he hurled it down in frustration and searched impatiently in his pockets for his cell phone.

"DAMN!" he swore angrily, "Stupid thing must be in the goddamn car!"

Torn between staying with Shannon and going to find a phone, Chris realised that he couldn't waste any time. Bending down, he scooped her limp body into his arms, resting her head against his shoulder.

"It's gonna be okay," he whispered, not sure if she could hear him but needing to hear it himself, "Everything's gonna be okay."

*****

Moving as quickly as he could with the unconscious Shannon in his arms, Chris headed for the door. It was only when it closed behind him that he thought about having to leave the apartment without locking the door, but he quickly dismissed the problem.

"She's more important." he thought, continuing to the elevator without a backwards glance.

He made his way out of the building and across the dark carpark to his car, struggling to open the back door while still holding Shannon. Not without some difficulty, he got the door open and gently laid her on the back seat. Covering her with the jacket he had intended to return, he closed the door and jogged round to the front of the car, jumping into the driver's seat. Turning the key in the ignition, he thought for one painful moment that the car was not going to start but it then roared to life. Throwing it into gear, he floored the accelerator and sped out of the carpark, going as fast as he could without sending his passenger flying. As soon as they were on a straight stretch of the road, he fished around for his phone and, to his relief, he found it. Keeping one hand firmly on the steering wheel, he dialled the number of Chris Irvine's mobile and waited impatiently for him to pick up.

"Come on, answer the phone!" he muttered.

"It's three in the morning," came the complaint from the other end of the line, "Whoever you are, I'm warning you - someone better be dead!"

"Careful what you wish for." Chris warned in return as he rolled his eyes, having long since grown accustomed to his friend's lack of tact. "It's me and ....."

"Oh, hey, man! Where are you?" asked Irvine, before continuing with renewed enthusiasm. "Hey, wait a minute! Are you with Shannon? Is there something I should know?"

"Yeah on both counts, so shut up and listen!" barked Chris impatiently, "I'm on my way to the hospital ......"

"What!?! Tell me you didn't beat the shit out of Billy!" exclaimed Irvine.

"I didn't, but if what I suspect is true, it's definitely on my 'To Do' list! It's Shannon, she's been beaten up." he explained grimly.

"Jesus! Is it bad?"

"It's not good." Chris confirmed, "I'm gonna get her to hospital and stay with her - I can't leave her on her own - so, can you go over to her place? I had no way of locking it up ....."

"Sure, sure, whatever needs doing." Irvine agreed immediately, "I hope she's okay - you stay with her, man, and call me if there's any news."

"Sure. Thanks, Chris. Talk to you later."

"Later." said Irvine, hanging up.

Chris threw the phone onto the passenger's seat and glanced round at Shannon. She still hadn't stirred and he was relieved to see the hospital come in view.

"Nearly there, Shan." he said, "Just hang on."

*****