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Chapter One
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"Welcome to the very first edition of the Raw Lingerie Fashion Show!" Randy said into the mic, a grin spreading over his handsome features. The five women standing to the left of him gasped, looking at one another with a mixture of shock and amusement on their faces.
"We'll do it!" They all offered before lining up against the ropes.
"Can we get some music?" Randy asked. Some very bad porn music started, and the newest Divas went first.
Christy had a nervous, sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She knew what would happen to her back at the hotel tonight because of this impromptu gig. She held her head high, though, and kept firm determination to make the fans happy at all costs necessary...even if that cost was herself.
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"You fucking cunt!" Yelled Dylan, his strong hand flying over her cheek. His blow was so hard it knocked her to the ground from a standing position.
"Stop it," Christy pleaded pitifully, shielding herself from her boyfriend's crushing blows.
"Stop it?" He said, barely above a whisper as he inched closer and closer to her. "Stop it? Fuck you! I wish I could have told YOU stop it when you were stripping in the middle of a damned wrestling ring and strutting your skanky fat ass around!" He screamed before kicking her hard in the ribs. "I'll show you sorry!" He kept kicking the tiny girl, and she let very little sound escape her.
"What, bitch, you don't have anything to say now?" He yelled before kicking her hard in the head. He watched as her eyes rolled back in her head, and a tiny trickle of blood escaped from a cut right above her eyebrow.
"Christy?" He said after a moment, worry setting in. He shook her a bit. "Christy! Wake up!" He realized that she wasn't stirring. "Oh, fuck..." He said to himself out loud, thinking he had killed her. "This is bullshit." He muttered before gathering his bags and leaving the room, nothing more to it. He left her there to die...although he already thought she was dead.
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"Hey, have you seen Christy tonight?" Randy looked over at his good friend David. Most of the roster had joined the two in the hotel bar that night for a celebration of the good Raw, and he hadn't seen the fiesty redhead since the Lingerie Fashion Show.
"Nope. Why don't you go get her room number and get her to come down with us?" Davod suggested. Randy nodded.
"Alright man, I'll be back in like fifteen minutes." Randy stood up and walked to the front desk. He asked for Christy's room number, and the clerk told him. He took the elevator up three stories, and just as he was getting out of the elevator, who he thought looked awfully like Christy's boyfriend smashed into him, muttered a 'sorry', and kept walking, his suitcase in hand. He had dropped a key card when he bumped into Randy, so he bent down and picked it up, gazing over the room number.
'I was right,' He thought, looking at the number. 'That was Christy's boyfriend. I wonder where he's going.' Shrugging it off, he walked to the door, and figuring he should use it since he now had it, ran the key card through the reader. The door unlocked and he entered the hotel room to find it completely dark.
'Christy wouldn't have gone anywhere with him for more than a few hours...' He thought as he reached over, flicking on a light. His gaze was instantly drawn to the floor, and he saw a sight that made his stomach turn upside down. Christy was laying unconcious in a small pool of blood. She had bruises forming on her face and her exposed stomach. Gently, he bent down next to her, shaking her slightly. She was unresponsive for a moment, before she blinked her eyes open. They were at first glazed over, and as she saw Randy, she jerked back.
"Please don't hurt me," She whispered, tears filling her eyes. Randy looked at her, feeling helpless.
"I wouldn't...I couldn't." Randy said, gently taking her in his arms, trying his very best to comfort her. She clung onto him, beginning to cry. He picked her up and reached into his pocket, digging out his cell phone. He called an ambulance and held the redhead carefully until it arrived.
Paramedics arrived at the room with stretchers. They loaded Christy onto it and took her down to the parking lot where the ambulance was waiting. Most of the roster were watching in the lobby as they took her out, Randy following.
"What happened, man?" David asked, walking up to the distraught man.
"I dunno. But I have to go with her." David just nodded as Randy climbed into the back of the ambulance, where he took Christy's hand, holding it as they tended to her wounds.
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Christy's next memory was of waking up in a dingy white room. She was hooked up to an IV and numerous moniters, and when she looked over to her left, she saw Randy, nodding off in a chair directly beside the hospital bed.
The moment she saw him, memories came flooding back to her. The attack by Dylan, Randy finding her, comforting her, holding her...Randy talking to her, calming her down.
'It's funny,' She thought. 'Randy cares so much...or at least seems to...and I never realized it.' She shook her head.
"Ms. Hemme," A stern doctor said, walking into the room. "I'm Dr. Richardson." At that moment, Christy noticed Randy's eyes flutter open. She looked at him, and he sent her a sleepy yet peaceful smile. Reaching over, he took her hand in his gently.
"I have some good and some bad news." Dr. Richardson said. "You haven't sustained any injuries that can affect your wrestling career. The bad news, though, is that through an MRI, we've discoverd an Epidural Hematoma on the right front side of your brain. It's fairly large, and we need to go in and remove it."
"I have to have surgery?" Christy asked a bit fearfully.
"Yes, but it isn't anything to worry heavily about. It's just a simple proceedure." Christy nodded.
"Do whatever you need to do, Doc." Dr. Richardson wrote something on her chart, then left.
Randy and Christy sat in silence for a moment, before Randy got the guts to ask her what had happened.
Sighing, Christy began to relive the story.
"I've been dating Dylan since my senior year in high school." She began. "He was my first everything. We dated into college, and afterwards...obviously. I thought that we would get married one day. But during our sophomore year in college, he began going out all night, partying all the time, getting drunk, then coming home...that's also when he began getting jealous of everything, and 'protective' over me. But if I screwed up, I got hit. This has been going on for nearly two years now." She spilled her heart out.
Randy stared foreward, a not-so-happy expression on his face.
"I'll kill him." He stated.
"No, Randy, you can't tell anyone," Christy whimpered. Randy looked at her, confusion in his eyes. "He'll kill me..."
Shaking his head, Randy took the small girl in his arms, whispering comforting words to her. "He won't touch you," Randy promised. "He won't."
Christy clung to him, hanging onto him as if he were her only life support. It shocked him to see her like this; completely polar opposite of her normal self.
And to think, her normal self was all an act to keep them from knowing the truth...