Always Watching
Prologue
"So, what do you say, Lita? Night out on the town with the guys?" Chris Benoit asked, looking over at his companion. "Come on. You need to have a nice night out-you shouldn't spend so much time holed up in your hotel room."
"I have my reasons," the redhead next to him whispered softly, and shifted the duffel bag on her shoulders. "I'm sorry, Chris, but you guys are just going to have to do without me tonight."
"Lita," Chris said, his voice suddenly firm and bordering on loud. "The police will eventually catch the guy who's been bothering you, but it might not be for a while. You just can't hide in your room and hope it will all go away," he told her.
"I can try," Lita responded, and stopped as they reached her locker room.
"Li, I know you don't want to hear this, but I think you're making too much out of nothing. So maybe a fan's fantasizes went too far. But he's only sent letters and pictures, he's never approached you. And even if he did, you know they posted two round-the-clock cops for you," Chris said. Lita looked straight back at him, and he could see the affect that this person was having on her. Stress was evident on her face by the purple bags slashed beneath her eyes. 'It's not like I'm helping the situation any,' Chris though to himself snidely, but pushed the thought away.
Lita took time to choose her words. "Maybe I am, Benoit. Maybe I am overreacting, but I don't mind telling you that I feel safer in my hotel room then out," she looked away from him. "I don't know if the investigators let you read the letters, but they're…creepy in the least. He keeps referring to me as his china doll, and writes like I'm his," her eyes met his once more. "Every time there's a letter in a manila folder, and some pictures," her shoulders shook, "Pictures of me. In the ring, and out, getting into my car, catching a bite to eat, whatever I've done since the last time he wrote. He writes things on the back: 'When I come for you, we'll eat at nicer places then Burger King', 'surely we'll be able to afford a better car' and stuff like that. Each letter says that he's going to come soon, and that I couldn't avoid him, and shouldn't try."
"Lita—" Chris tried to interrupt, but failed.
"I really don't like the fact that this man knows everything I do as soon as I step foot onto the pavement, Chris," the redhead said earnestly. "I'm afraid that if I go with you guys, I'll put you in danger."
"We're wrestlers, Lita, we deal with threats on a daily basis," Benoit interjected.
"From other wrestlers. Not paranoid stalkers," Lita responded.
"Look, Li—" Chris sighed, running a hand over his brown hair. "I do mean to upset you, Lita, but I'm worried about you."
"I'll be okay, Chris."
"I'm starting to wonder if that's true," he replied seriously, shaking his head. Lita pushed open her locker room door, starting to say something.
She stopped dead one step into her room. Chris walked in behind her, staring at the surroundings.
Four large vases of ornate bouquets sat on the desk, dark rose petals covering the desk so that the wood wasn't visible. The redhead took tentative steps forward until she was standing in front of the vases. Slowly, she reached her hand between the second and third, and pulled a large manila envelope from between them. Her hands shaking, she pulled out a single piece of notebook paper, and read the typed note quickly. As if in a trance, she tilted her hand. Several photos—two dozen in total—tumbled onto the floor. Lita looked at them for only a second, then turned, clamping a hand over her mouth. Her shoulders shook with silent sobs that she tried to control. Chris stepped forward, ignoring the photos and embracing his friend.
"It's going to be alright, Lita… I promise," he whispered as she leaned against him. Over her shoulder, Chris tried to look at the photos.
"Don't make promises you can't keep," Lita whispered in a half-sob, her voice halting and broken. She moved her head the slightest bit, inadvertently giving Benoit a view of the pictures. As he looked at them, Chris's throat tightened.
24 photos, obviously taken in the dark and by an amateur. 24 photos, spelling out the game Lita's stalker was playing.
24 photos of Lita…from inside her hotel room.
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Author's Note: I should really stop writing all of these new stories, but I can't help it! Those damn muses! Anyway, this is a little different then what I usually write, so I hope I didn't do too bad. Please review!
