A/N: I'm so sorry it's taken so long since the last update. I just started school about 2 weeks ago, and I've been swamped with work, so I haven't gotten to write anything lately. But, I hope to get the next chapter up quicker than this one, so keep an eye out!
Paul had begun to circle around Trish, staring her down as he paced around her like a vulture. Still frozen, the Canadian diva hadn't so much as moved a muscle. She wasn't even sure she could move, she certainly hadn't dared to try.
"Paul, I... you..." she stopped speaking abruptly, suddenly realizing that no words were forming in her head.
It was like her entire body - brain, nerves, muscles and all - had gone into shock, and as a result it was shutting down. The terror in Trish's eyes, and the scent of fear that practically dripped off of her delighted Levesque all the more. He paused behind her, dipping his head down so that it was just short of resting on her shoulder. He placed his hand on her other arm, snickering as her muscles jumped and then grew tight as a result of his touch."What's the matter, Trish?" he asked, his tone showing anything but concern. "Scared?"
She bit her lip, knowing full well she would scream if she didn't. The daily pains she still had in her midsection reminded her all too well of what would happen if she screamed. Still, a small whimper slipped through her pursed lips as he spoke to her, his hot breath warming her neck, and not in a comforting fashion.
Sliding out of his grasp, Trish turned to face him. Unable to look him in the eye, her gaze locked directly ahead of her, level with his chest. She became aware of the fact that they had switched places, with him being the one nearer to the door, and she moaned. How had she managed to get herself in this situation again?
"Come on now, honey, I asked you a question," he said, stepping towards her. "Are you scared?"
Yes, she thought to herself. Oh God, yes. She hated herself at the moment, and at the fact that she was so terrified. And what was worse, she knew that Paul could sense it on her. He picked up fear on others as though it were a heavy perfume.
Holding herself steady, Trish forced her gaze up, freezing when she caught a glimpse of his face. Her eyes narrowed as she stared into his, the cruel, sadistic orbs bringing out a new emotion in her. She placed a hand over her stomach, and she came to the conclusion that, above all else, she was angry. As she stood before her attacker, staring him dead in the eye, rage coursed through her body.
All the pain, all the grief she had experienced as of late was because of him. He was the reason she was afraid to be alone at night, the reason she was plagued by nightmares. The only reason why she was afraid to be touched, afraid to be even glanced at, was because of this rotten individual. With each passing second, fright drained from her body and was replaced with an even more intense amount of rage.
What could almost be conceived as a half smile curled up her lips. Her eyes still locked on him, Trish took a page right out of her boyfriend's in-ring playbook, mustering up all the saliva she could manage and releasing it, spitting right in his smug face.
It was uncharacteristic of her, and unladylike no less, but he didn't deserve a lady. As far as Trish was concerned, the bastard didn't even deserve her spit. A satisfied smirk spread across her face, the young woman experiencing a distinct feeling of pride for herself. Somehow, she had put her fear behind her and taken control of the situation.
However, she wasn't counting on Paul to react, and react he did. A deep growl was released from within him, the sound bellowing up from the bottom of his throat. In a movement to rapid for her to see, let alone react to, he grabbed both of her hands, his own clenched tightly around her wrists. He pushed forward, forcing the much smaller blonde woman backwards.
"You little brat..." he grumbled at her, his breathing becoming heavy with the amount of anger coursing through him. "Didn't anyone teach you any fucking manners?"
His eyes narrowed viciously at Trish, his blood seething. He didn't believe she'd have the audacity to speak, much less spit in his face. He didn't think the bitch had it in her.
Though she couldn't deny that some of the uneasiness had worked its way back into her system, Trish stood her ground.
"I could ask you the same question, you little prick," she spoke through clenched teeth.
Backing away from her slightly, Paul narrowed his gaze at her. Her personality had changed so much since he last saw her, even in the past few minutes, it had him in a state of shock. Did he no longer intimidate her? If that was the case, his entire plan would be in ruins. He was counting on her to be afraid...
Wait a minute, what was he thinking? He could read Trish Stratus like a book. She was acting exactly as she had the night he raped her. She could talk tough all she wanted, make wise remarks till she turned purple - it was all a facade, nothing but a damn act. In fact, one more step in her direction and she'd be shaking all over again.
Without another moment of hesitation, Paul lunged at her. As he grabbed onto her, Trish screamed, though her shriek was moreso out of shock then fear. She was knocked completely off balance by the force with which he collided with her, and the pair fell to the floor, her tailbone roughly bumping off the ground. She let out another yelp, this time in pain. Paul landed directly on top of her, his weight nearly crushing the tiny blonde.
Trish gasped for air, the wind having been knocked from her both by hitting the floor and from having Paul's weight crash down on her. He laughed sadistically as she writhed and fought from beneath him, clawing desperately at his face as she scrambled to get away.
Face to face, when things were still in conversation, Trish knew she could handle Paul. He didn't have the brain power to outwit her. But when things turned physical, the story changed completely. Now she was no match for him.
"Somebody help!" she cried breathlessly, relentlessly pounding at his chest.
Paul still did nothing, simply smiled down at her as she continued to swing at him, her blows having little to no effect on him. He debated how long he would humor himself on this, before he attacked.
Before he got a chance to contemplate, the door - which she had unconsciously left open - swung wide open. In a flash, the person who had charged into it drew their foot in the air, delivering a swift kick to the back of Paul's head before he could even turn around. The large man groaned, his weight dropping atop of Trish, who in turn looked up at her savior in amazement.
"Randy!" she cried, her eyes widening as she gazed up at her boyfriend. She had never been so happy to see him in her life.
Randy burst to her side, giving Levesque a good shove and knocking the burly man off of her. He dropped to his knees at her side, taking her hand in his as he frantically looked her over.
"Shit, Trish... are you okay? Did he hurt you?" he questioned her immediately, his blue eyes full of worry.
"I'm fine, I'm fine!" she assured him, squeezing his hand tightly. Truth was, she may have broken her tailbone, but at this point, she didn't want to stall him any further. "Just help me up so we can get out of here!"
Nodding, Randy took her other hand as well, propping himself up on his knees. However, in the time he had taken to check on Trish, Paul had shaken off the cobwebs placed in his brain by Randy's swift kick, and he was to his feet. He dove at the younger man, sailing right over Trish and practically landing in Randy's lap. The two men began brawling right away, and it was apparently after only a few moments that Paul had the upper hand. He was just too strong.
With a few gasps of pain, she managed to slide over to the door, leaning against the wall as she watched helplessly. Tears slid down her cheeks as she watched Paul Levesque mercilessly beat into the man she loved. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen...
Trish placed a hand in front of her face, shielding her eyes from the horrible sight before her. As she heard the groans of pain coming from Randy, she squeezed her eyes shut, placing her hands over her ears. She kept them that way for what felt like an eternity, removing the hands she clamped tightly around her head only when she heard him speak.
"Go get help!" he screamed. He may have been ballsy enough to burst into the room, but he was no idiot. He could not overpower Paul alone.
Trish's eyes snapped open, and she noticed with relief that Randy had begun to fight back. Momentarily forgetting about her pain, she sprung up from the floor, flinging the door open and speeding out into the hall.