PART 41

There was a painfully obvious limp in Trish's step, her pace having slowed down considerably since she had escaped from the hotel room. She had definitely done some damage to her tailbone. And unlike any other injury she had experienced recently, the pain did not dwindle with time. In fact, the sharp, piercing sensation in her lower back got agonizingly worse by the second.

Tossing a glance over her shoulder, she kept moving down the hall, forcing herself to speed up. She leaned her weight towards the wall, using it as a support to help her move along. She suddenly recalled why she was in such a hurry in the first place. She needed to find help.

Increasing her pace even more, Trish bit her lip, a look of anguish on her face as a fresh tear slid down her cheek. She had to find help for Randy... but her body seemed to be giving up on her...

Coming to an abrupt stop, Trish fell to her knees, a soft cry escaping her lips. She fell to the floor; one hand gripping the wall, the other at the small of her back. Her chest heaved in and out as she fought for breath, and her mind was screaming at her to get up, to ignore the pain and to press on.

She blinked, and then turned her head. As if her luck could get any worse...

Somehow, Paul had managed to stall Randy long enough to get away, and now the bastard was following her!

"Shit!" she cried to herself as he placed a foot in front of the other, stepping towards her.

He continued to do so, moving quicker and quicker till Trish finally k to reality and realized he was coming after her. Once again, frantic overpowered pain and she hopped up off the floor, running off again. Paul was not far in tow. This couldn't really be happening. The events leading up to this moment had her feeling like she had become part of a horror movie.

He was gaining on her, she could sense it. Hell, she could practically feel him breathing behind her. If that didn't put an extra bounce in her step, nothing would. She hung a left around a corner, and in doing so got a terrible cramp in her left side. Clutching her hip in pain, she bent down, having no choice but to stop. Paul easily caught up with her, grabbing one of her arms and holding her to the wall.

"You can't escape me, Trish," he told her through pants. "And with your little boyfriend out of the way, I'm thinking no one is going to save your pretty little behind now."

"Think again..."

Paul's jaw dropped slightly at the sound of the familiar voice. He loosened his grip on Trish's arm, slowly turning to his side, where he was met with a pair of cold eyes. He should have known.

"Now Dave," he began, his voice reasoning with Batista, "think about what you're doing. You don't want to turn your back on me."

Trish's eyes widened upon seeing Dave Batista, who was only a few steps away. She didn't know whether to be relieved he was there, or scared out of her wits.

Apparently, Dave sensed Trish's uneasiness - which he had no doubt was a result of his presence - and he made a conscious effort to make his intentions clear.

"Before I think about doing anything, Paul, I highly suggest you let the lady go," he said, narrowing his eyes at his former leader.

Paul snorted at his comment, tossing his nose in the air. Nobody gave him orders.

"Who do you think you're talking to?" he challenged, his icy glare matching the one he received from Batista.

"I'm talking to a man whose fingers will be severed from his hand if he doesn't let go of the woman he's holding on to," Dave threatened, his tone more than a little serious.

Once again, Paul laughed his comment off. Most people would be scared by such a threat coming from such a large man, but not him. He wasn't afraid of Dave, no matter how frightening he could be. After all, he had created the monster in him.

"Don't try to scare me, Dave. Your threats mean nothing to me. Don't forget, you wouldn't have it in you to 'sever' any fingers without me. I made you, and I sure as hell can break you," Paul warned, pointing a finger at him.

Dave's gaze remained steady, and he a took in step toward him. It bothered him to see Trish jump upon sensing his movement, but he didn't let it show. He came right up to Levesque, pressing his forehead to his.

"You don't intimidate me," he said dangerously, his tone a bit chilling even to Paul. "Maybe you did give me the power to raise hell, but I'm no longer your monkey. I have the ability to do with my strength whatever I want... and I'm thinking I want to tear you apart."

Suddenly feeling threatened, Paul gave Dave a good shove, catching the larger man off balance and sending him backwards. He let go of Trish, diving towards Batista and taking him down with a spear. Another rumble ensued; only this time, Paul lost control of the battle a lot more quickly. In a matter of moments, Batista was on top of him, nailing him with rights.

Trish remained where she was, watching with wide eyes as the scene unfolded before her. She couldn't believe that the commotion hadn't drawn anyone out of their hotel rooms by now. The two men struggled to their feet, locking arms as they began to scream in each other's faces.

At some point Paul got a good control over what he was doing, and he gave Dave a hard shove. The larger back stumbled backwards, inadvertantly bumping into Trish. The Canadian diva dropped to the floor, gasping as the big man began to topple over. Luckily, Dave caught himself with his arms, most of his weight falling onto them and not Trish's torso.

Still, tripping had left Dave prone to attack, and Paul seized the opportunity to kick him in the stomach. Batista groaned, grabbing his midsection with a pained grimace. Trish slid away from them as best she could, brushing the hair out of her face as she tried to think of what to do. Fortunately, she didn't have to come up with a conclusion.

Seemingly out of nowhere, a fourth person entered the hall, diving onto Levesque and knocking him to the floor. Trish's stomach dropped with relief as she noticed that Randy had caught up with them, joining in the fight with his best friend.

While Paul had been stronger than Randy, and an equal match for Dave, there was no way he could compete with both men. Trish watched as her boyfriend pummeled the man who had raped her, a distinct sense of pride bubbling within her with each blow he delivered. Soon enough, Dave was to his feet and helping Randy, and not long after the two had him pinned to the floor, gasping for air.

What could be conceived as a smile turned Trish's lips up, her gaze locked on Dave and Randy, who were more or less beating the shit out of Paul.

"Hey, Randy, let up on him," Dave warned, watching as Levesque's eyes began to roll back in his head. "You're going to kill him."

Randy paused, taking a moment to glance up at Dave. He shook his hand, laughter emitting from the bottom of his throat.

"Good..." he muttered, taking another swing at him.

The way he saw things, Paul would be lucky to die. He didn't want to sound like a killer, though; he was not out to kill Paul. He simply wanted to beat him within an inch of his life, allow him to regain some of his strength, and then to do it all over again. After what he did to Trish, all the suffering he caused his poor angel, he deserved nothing less.

"Randy... Randy, just stop..."

Trish twirled her head around, the sound of a new voice coming from behind her drawing her attention away from the fight. For the umpteenth time, her eyes widened, this time in relief.

Stephanie McMahon had emerged from her hotel room, her cell phone in hand. She had apparently been listening to the entire event go down, as her eyes immediately narrowed on her ex-fiance. She boldly walked over to the pile of men, gesturing for Randy to back off. Dave pulled his friend up, holding him steady as the brunette dropped to her knees, coming to rest before Paul's fallen body.

"I called the police, Paul," she said, having great satisfaction in being the bearer of such news. "It's all over..."