Uncommon Sense Chapter 25
By Batistafan
Rating - NC-17 for violence
Distribution: If you would like to add this story to
your site that's fine, just let me know.
Main Characters include: Batista, Triple H, Chris Jericho, Christy
Hemme, Nancy Adams (Original Character).
Disclaimer: This is a mature fanfiction intended for mature readers.
This story contains violence, coarse language, as well as mature
sexual situations (some may consider explicit), and these would not
be deemed appropriate for all readers.
I do not own nor claim to have any affiliation with the WWE, its
characters, wrestlers, staff or other affiliates. I do own any
original characters that I have created, as well as scenarios that
ensue throughout the course of this fiction. However, since both my
characters and scenarios are inexorably intertwined with those of
the WWE, my ownership of them is not autonomous.
I do not endorse nor do I discourage the use of any brand-name
products that might be referenced in the fiction and have no claim
to them as they are property of their respective companies of
license. Thank you kindly for not suing.
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"It is remarkable how similar the pattern of love is to the pattern of insanity."
-The Matrix - Revolutions, character Merovingian
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Five hours until Showtime and she lay alone in the dark, curled in the fetal position, the hard hotel bed as her only comfort. Christy had always considered sex a casual endeavor…and now she was paying a hefty price for her lack of discretion. One post-RAW, Diva hopeful party and her exuberance for vodka and cranberry juice had sealed her fate. It wasn't as if she'd ever truly thought that a sexual encounter with Jonathan Coachman would have helped her advance on to the voting stage of the competition, and undoubtedly it hadn't, since the act in question hadn't taken place until after the first round of fan voting had begun. Christy had just been so damned drunk, and he'd given her a ride back to the hotel because she had missed the Diva Van, after having been hunkered over a toilet in the bar's restroom.
Christy remembered little to nothing about the actual act of sex, it had been done more as a way to pass the time, maybe even celebrate that she'd gotten that far…even she couldn't quite put her finger on why. The fact that he'd had such a calloused indiscretion in filming it was beyond her realm of comprehension. Maybe he'd even lain in wait to see whom he would take home that night…maybe it might not have even been her if she had mandated her liquor consumption…taken a cab…any degree of divergence from what she had originally done, might have changed the whole mess. Her tears were little consolation…for she knew that once the tape hit distribution, everything she'd worked for including building a life with Dave Batista would be buried in an instant under a pile of scandalous rubble.
Christy Hemme's hopes were few and her choices fewer…true, her conscience had been plagued for nearly two weeks after having read the reports, newspaper clippings court transcripts…all of the dirt he'd dredged up on Nancy Adams, and more than once she'd felt the conviction to do something to change the whole outcome. But it was too little too late now, if she did anything to upset the Master's plan…both women would be ruined. Her career and any future hopes of career advancement, as well as any dreams she might have had of becoming the wife of a champion would be dust in the wind if she rebelled. And Nancy…her black past would be splattered all over the place…there would be no employment prospects in the near future for her either, along with the fact that the only love she might ever find with a man again would be in a third-world country where they didn't have televisions.
Christy rolled over, arms still wrapped around the envelope that housed the tape. Things would go as planned…they had to…She would do as she was told and then she would keep the secret and take it to her grave. She would console Dave Batista and help him recover from the knee injury she knew Triple H planned to inflict and then she would be the driving force behind his return to the top. Together they could make a life and he would be willing to forget Nancy. Christy would make sure that it happened just that way…because if she had ever considered otherwise…now she had no alternative.
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Nancy leaned forward and swiped her hand across the steam covered bathroom mirror, taking a deep and pensive breath. She sponged excess water from her curls with a towel and then wrapped another around her body as her feet sank into the thick tub-side rug. There was very little time left until the show and her body was a mass of nerves. She hadn't been able to stand still for hours, hadn't been able to eat a full meal in at least a day and certainly hadn't been able to resign herself to the task of a betrayal she was still unclear about. 'You'll help me win a match…the details of which I'll supply you with later…' She remembered his words from the evening in the wardrobe room and closed her eyes trying to block it out. He had not yet come to tell her in what way she was to help him and that meant that she was to expect another confrontation from him. It made her mouth run dry as the blade of fear sliced through her spirit.
Nancy frowned and stared into her own eyes reflecting back at her in the clouded mirror. She saw a mixture of doubt and deceit, conflict and surrender…she was a liar and a conspirator…and her selfish pride and the sheer fear of everyone knowing the details of her past imprisoned her, keeping her tethered to the vindictive will of someone who wanted everything, in spite of his wife's objections and wasn't afraid to covertly destroy everyone around him to have it.
His reflection appeared from behind her, much taller in the mirror than she…the warmth of him against her back hotter even than the air in the steamed up bathroom. She felt his hands on her hips as the front of his body pressed against her back and he leaned his chin on the top of her head staring at the two of them for a moment in the hazed mirror. "Can I borrow you for a few minutes?" Dave asked, sliding his hand into the wet curls and letting them fall between his fingers. His voice was low, his eyes held a determined luminosity.
"You know it never takes just a few minutes…" She insinuated, reaching her arms up behind her to wrap them around his neck.
His throaty laugh, a mix of restraint and humor tickled her ear. "That has to wait until after the show…because if I get started now…we'll never even get there." He cupped her backside, playfully. "I have to show you something…in there, close your eyes."
Nancy let him lead her from the hotel bathroom into the bedroom, and relished the feel of the cooler air on her wet skin even though it created gooseflesh. He brought her to the edge of the bed and then told her softly that she was permitted to look. The large white box on the bed caught her eye and she immediately began to chew her lip nervously. She was afraid to approach it…afraid to take another gift from someone she would soon be leaving on traitorous terms.
"Open it." He said pointing to it.
Nancy took a deep breath, unable to meet his eyes as she slid the white bow aside and lifted the lid, pushing the paper apart. It was wrestling gear…for her, just for her…not borrowed, but made solely with her in mind. Her breath caught in her throat and as she lifted the pieces from the box. She turned to him, her eyes and voice wavering. "You didn't have to do this…it must have cost you a fortune."
He didn't miss the tremble in her voice nor the way her eyes darted uncertainly from him to his gift, as if she somehow felt she didn't deserve it. "I could not in good conscience, let you go in there looking like an amateur." He explained. "Besides, you're worth it."
"You shouldn't have done this." Her eyes rimmed with tears. "You know I'll never use them again after tonight."
"That's okay…you can just frame them…or whatever it is girls do with things they think are special." He smiled as he watched her hold the gear as if it were precious silk. "Then, twenty years from now, you can look back and remember that this was the first major thing we ever did together."
Her eyes swept from the box to his eyes and confusion flickered in them. "The first major thing?" She repeated his words in a whisper to be sure what she heard was what he'd actually said.
"There'll be other major things." Dave said searching her eyes, confirming for her in not so many words, that there was more to come for the two of them.
She was floored by his admission and she leaned into his chest thanking him for his gift. Tempted to tell him the truth and yet terrified to hear his response. Nancy just held fast her position against him, wrapping her arms around his waist, pressing her head against the wall of muscle. Relishing the steady sound of his heart and feel of him and fighting with the knowledge that she would never be here, this way with him again after tonight.
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Max narrowly missed being beheaded by the boom microphone as part of the sound team rushed past him in the corridor, preparing to set up the area for promos. He lugged the last of the heavy machinery into the wardrobe room deciding that he missed Nancy as much for her partnership as he did for her help with unloading their supplies from the bus. After tonight she would be back fulltime as his work partner, but not as his roomy. It was a sacrifice he could make, because he knew she was happy.
He plugged the sewing machine in and draped the cord over the back of the table, humming an off-key version of the 'Love Boat' theme, when a brown alligator skin make-up case caught his eye. He clearly recognized it as Vicki's. He rolled his eyes and let out a frustrated groan, thinking she must have been in here looking for him when he'd gone back out to retrieve the last of his things and had probably left the make-up bag accidentally.
Max had successfully avoided her for almost eighteen full hours and he'd even begun to feel a little better about himself, but now seeing the bag and realizing she probably needed it, caused the black cloud to pop right back up over his head and so he snatched it up and prepared to go track her down.
"Seen Vicki anywhere?" Max asked a random member of the make-up team as he passed.
"I think she went around the corner for something to eat…I know she left the arena though." The young man said, as he restocked a make-up cart, eyeing the bag in Max's hand. "You need me to take that?"
"Nope…I really have to talk to her." It suddenly dawned on Max that instead of just handing the make-up over and sinking into the background…that it was imperative for the preservation of his dignity that he tell her he was through with her…even if she insulted him and she likely would…he would tell her that he wanted nothing more to do with her.
Max traipsed around the corner headed for the arena's back door intent on some fresh air and a moment to prepare his speech before he had to deal with her.
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Dave laid Nancy's bag on the floor by the door just inside the empty wardrobe room. "You sure you wanna dress in here?" He asked. "There's a really nice women's locker room right around the corner."
"I'm fine here." She told him as he held on to her hands.
"I have to go, because there's something that needs my attention, but I will meet you in one hour at the bottom of that ramp." He hitched his thumb over his shoulder, and then smiling, he curved his hand around the back of her neck, allowing his fingers the luxury of her curls. "Just remember everything we worked on and you'll be fine." He kissed her soundly on the mouth and then touched her lip with his forefinger. "The ramp…one hour." He reminded her firmly and arched his brow. "Don't be late."
She watched him go and then sank into the chair ready to cry…but she didn't, there was no time for that. Nancy was again tempted to leave, ready to bolt out through the back door and run for the fields the way she had when she was younger. And she was fast…she could probably run all the way to the bus station and be on a Greyhound bound for God knows where by the time the match started, but she couldn't leave because even if she hadn't been afraid of everyone knowing about her past, there was Max to think about too. The thought that Vicki was prepared to go to the police and accuse Max of a rape that he'd never committed was more than she could bear. Nancy was definitely stuck between a rock and a hard place and that was where she was going to stay. She felt her ire rise as she set about the task of preparing for the match, opening her bag and discovering that her purse was gone.
Prepared to go find Dave and get the keys to the rental car so she could scour it for her purse, she stood and spun around only to come face to face with a smiling former heavyweight champion. Again he had locked the door behind himself, and again he emanated the same threatening aura.
"What do you want?" Nancy snapped, zipping her bag shut with unnecessary force.
He laughed and nudged her bag to the side with his shoe. "My, aren't we ill-tempered this evening?" He was holding another envelope addressed to a major publication. "Aren't you gonna welcome me into your dressing room? We are, after all…partners in crime."
Nancy stood up and planted both hands on her hips, her eyes flashing darkly. "I'd sooner welcome a seizure."
Another laugh erupted from him as he rounded on her, holding the envelope up so she could see it. "I like your audacity, Nancy…it must have served you well in the days following your…unfortunate…abuse." He reached out without warning and grasped her chin between his fingers, tugging her forward. "But, that kind of false bravado will not serve you well in the ring tonight…I don't like the look on your face or the tone of your voice, so I'm gonna make it perfectly clear what you're to do and you will do it!" His voice was harsh as he pushed her back away from him.
Humiliated, Nancy fell into the chair behind her as soon as the back of her knees made contact with it. "Just make your point and get out." She said weakly, staring at the floor.
"The last person you should be pissing off is me." He leaned down and braced his hands on the arms of the chair on either side of her. "Now…I need you as clear headed as possible so that we can coincide on this plan."
She wouldn't look him in the eye of her own accord, but was forced to do so when he tilted the chair back with a violence that nearly tipped it completely over. He held the chair at its awkward slope and he reveled in the look of terror on her face that now overshadowed her erstwhile air of rebellion. "Look at me, dammit!" He hissed. "If you're getting any ideas about becoming a hero, then don't…because I will mail this envelope to the newspaper and any major magazine I can think of and watch as your name gets plastered all over the news. I'll create a scandal for the WWE, so big that they'll have no choice but to let you go…and then I'll remind you once more about Max and his imminent arrest, should Vicki grow a wild hair and go to the cops."
"You're depraved." She hissed through clenched teeth and then cringed when he shook the chair again aggressively.
"You will take a fall tonight, understood?" He said watching tears spring to her eyes when his face came within inches of hers. "I'm gonna take Dave out at the knee, and then you're gonna take a fall and allow Christy to get the belt."
Realization dawned on Nancy and she stared wide-eyed as Triple H let the chair fall into its original stable position on the floor. "You're gonna injure him?" Her heart began to thump erratically. "If I take a fall…you don't have to hurt him…you'll still win the match." She insisted.
"It has to be done this way, or else the title will just revert back to him in some dumb assed rematch clause or some technicality that WWE Creative will come up with as a reason to please the fans and put the belt back around his waist."
"Please, don't do that…" She asked, swallowing and standing to her feet. "I told you I'd do whatever you asked…"
"You'll do whatever I ask, period." He cut her off, leaning down to look her in the face.
Nancy put one trembling hand to her forehead and looked at the floor as if to stifle an oncoming headache. "You don't have to hurt him…there's another way" She stuttered. "You're married to Stephanie McMahon, if you talked to her I'm sure she'd---"
"This is how it gets done." He interjected dangerously. "If all I had to do was talk to my wife, then do you think I would be holding your past over your head? Smarten up!" He ignored the fresh tears that were falling down her face. "Now, when you see me take the chair to Dave's knee, you be prepared, because right after that, Christy plans to do a flying clothesline off the top rope…very simple, you just take the bump and lie there like a log…she'll get the belt and it'll all be over…easy as that."
Nancy shook her head. "I can't." She whispered, pleading with him to change his mind.
"Think of Dave…and his little girls…think of Max." He played on her weakness. "Think of how embarrassing it would be for everyone involved…Nancy, think of how sad Max's mother will be when she has to visit her baby boy behind a wall of glass." He stepped behind her and pulled from his pocket the very small portable wireless monitor that he had borrowed from one of the stage hands. "And now here's the best reason for you not to go off track tonight."
He flipped the screen up and reached his arms around from behind her so that she could see the screen and so that she couldn't make a move to get away from him. "That's the press box…high above the ring. I'm sure you recognize the woman in the front row." He laughed when he heard her swift release of breath. "She's so drunk she doesn't even know why she's here…all she knows is that some nice, rich man visited her and put her on a plane, in a limo and up in a posh hotel room with the promise of possibly seeing her daughter…all of it fueled by a steady stream of Jim Beam." He taunted her. "It's so funny, you know…she can't even remember what you look like, because my friend showed her a completely anonymous photo when he lured her out here and she thought it was you. So if you cooperate tonight and do what I ask, the young lady I've hired will pretend to be you, take Mommy out to a nice dinner afterward and then send her back home to die in peace, knowing her daughter didn't hate her…that's a favor I'm willing to do for you…but if you nut up against me in any way whatsoever, I'll make sure that the tabloids have unlimited access to Mommy Dearest the minute your story breaks…and I'll make damn sure that she knows exactly where you are and how she can keep in touch with you."
Seeing the woman in the press box brought back every hidden emotion from her childhood, the fear, anger and despair all swirling throughout her body was as real and fresh as it had been every time she'd experienced it in the past. Familiar and easy to recall were the fists and the kicks, the spewed curses…the promises that she'd burn in hell for her father's death…the ridiculous accusations and the insults that had scarred her innocent heart and made her afraid to give herself wholly to anyone. And she was there…large as life, the same hardened hands…the same stringy hair, only resembling something phantom-like and a hundred years past her expiration date.
"I'll do it." Nancy said, her hand pressed against her stomach, deciding that she wasn't far from facing the indignity of vomiting.
"Good girl…" He said softly, as he smelled her hair. "And after…I'll hand over everything to you, and make sure that Mommy is swept back home without ever knowing where you are. Then you'll be right as rain, and Max will be fine…and Dave will be out of commission for a time, but he'll be better off without you, without that embarrassment…you'll realize that one day…and you'll thank me."
"I doubt that." She whispered.
"Dry your eyes and get ready. You have half an hour." He closed the monitor and palmed the envelope, headed toward the door.
"You must really hate me." Nancy said before his hand reached the knob, unsure why she even said it…perhaps it was the feeling inside of her that told her she might be able to accept his violence or justify his depravity if she knew that he hated her.
"On the contrary…I don't hate you at all…in fact if I wasn't married and things were different I might have found you as entertaining to pass the time with as Dave does…It's just business, Nancy…there's no hate involved." He unlocked the door and walked out, leaving her to herself.
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The feeling of taking a shotgun blast dead-on in the chest was the only way he could describe his current state…he slipped back away from the locked wardrobe door and back around the corner in a less populated area of the arena. Dave Batista had returned to the rental car only moments prior to retrieve his PDA so he could remind his girls to watch the match, when he'd discovered Nancy's small beaded handbag wedged between the seat and the center console. He had been making an attempt to return it to her when he'd come upon the locked door and a harsh argument apparently trying to be masked on the other side of the door. He'd been prepared to kick the door in off of its hinges when he recognized the voice and his intuition prompted him to listen.
In the few minutes he had leaned against that door, he'd caught an earful of things he hadn't wanted to hear. Nancy's betrayal was being orchestrated on the other side of the door by Triple H who evidently had something of substance to hold over her head. She had done something in her past and was willing to bargain for his silence by offering up Dave as the sacrificial lamb. He had heard the plan to injure him, to put him out of commission, had heard the threat to mail copies of something horrific to a newspaper columnist…he had even heard her try to needle her way out of helping Triple H, he'd heard her beg and after some crafty persuasion he'd heard her submit. He knew the exact terms of her betrayal, when and how…but not why. He felt a physical pain where he had just moments ago felt elation.
All the hope of making future memories with this woman, were fast fading, and as he watched Triple H saunter down the hall, despite the sudden urge to rip his throat out, he knew he had to do something and he turned the corner and decided to march right in there and confront her. He opened the door of the wardrobe room silently and as soon as he got a glimpse of her, his resolution failed him. She was standing up, using the table for support, palms flat on the table's surface with her head down. Utterly defeated.
"Nancy." He said her name and she jumped, quickly regaining her composure. "I have to talk to you." He placed her handbag on top of her duffel, and grasped her hand, searching her eyes for some regret, some remorse…but then how could she be remorseful when she wasn't even aware that he knew what she planned to do. "We can't talk here." He pulled her toward the doorway as she tried to protest and tell him she had to get ready. "We have plenty of time." He told her, a firm snatch grip on her wrist.
The heat of his hand and the firm insistence as he nearly dragged her down the hallway and around the corner, worried her…how could she ever do what was required of her if he kept touching her, looking at her? Dave looked both ways as he stopped in front of a utility closet he'd seen moments ago when he'd backed around into this little used area of the arena, opening it, he shoved her inside and stepped in after her, closing the door and twisting the tiny lock on the knob.
"Why are we in here?" She asked, nervously.
Dave couldn't quite determine the answer to that one himself…maybe his original intention had been to bring her in here so that he could confront her without fear of interruption…maybe to shake some sense into her addled brain…scare the truth out of her, maybe…but he couldn't do it. His hand was on the back of her neck before he could stop it, drawing her closer to him, as he walked her backward toward the wall.
"We can't do this in here." She whispered…they couldn't do it anywhere, because she was a coward and a liar and he deserved better.
"Hush!" He whispered fiercely, pushing her back against the wall.
"Dave." She tried to speak, but was cut off by the violent pressure of his lips on her mouth. Insistent, forceful, paralyzing…he wasn't playing games.
"Quiet…" He said as his hands roamed over the front of her body. "No noise, or they'll catch us." He spun her around and leaned his own back against the wall, wrapping his hands around the front of her body and cupping her breasts. He pressed her back against him and breathed in her scent. He wanted to tear the clothing from her body and show her again why they were meant to be together…why she shouldn't betray him, but he knew that if he made love to her again, he wouldn't have the strength to walk away from her even after she handed him over to the wolves.
No, tonight was for her…he wouldn't torture himself by taking what he would never be able to forget, but he would give her something…something she would take with her forever, a reminder of what she had lost because of her lies. His hands drew her skirts up past her hips, wedging them between her lower back and his pelvis and then with a swift rending of fabric he tore her panties from her body and slipped them into his pocket. Her gasp and the sudden stiffening of her body was quickly replaced by a near moan, when his hand inched around her hip to her thigh, a silent urging for her to part her legs. "Hush!" He demanded fiercely in her ear again as the steel band of his arm clamped over her chest and his hand pressed over her mouth. With his free hand he grazed the juncture of her thighs, feeling her stiffen in anticipation…his own body ached to rid himself of the clothing and take her fully, but he wouldn't…he pressed his hand against her core and felt her tremble…venturing a finger inside he felt her moist and throbbing.
It was then as he touched her that he began to whisper to her, holding her there against him covering her mouth so she could not speak, could not respond…she was forced to listen and feel. Words he hadn't known that he knew came out of his mouth as he told her his fantasy of a future even though he silently knew in his heart that it was a future they would no longer have. His fingers were gentle and consistent, sliding inside of her as he caressed her. He could hear the small stifled moans and feel her breathing increase as he whispered to her, telling her how much he wanted her, how he wouldn't let her go…promises he secretly, painfully knew he couldn't keep, not after tonight.
He felt her body react familiarly to his touch, and knew from his own experience that she was blessedly close to release. She was clinging to the arm that held her when he felt her break, her body shuddering in his tight embrace, her cries blocked by the hand over her mouth. And he knew it…that moment…every moment before…from the very moment he'd seen her watching him from the rafters…and he had to tell her. "I love you…" He whispered it into her ear, even as her body was still racked by the orgasm. He felt her fall slack in his embrace and listened to her breathe heavily against him. He didn't know whether it would make a difference to her, but it had to him. He wouldn't tell her what he knew, what he had heard. He let her skirts fall back down and spun her around to face him.
The light from under the door showed him little more than her silhouette but his thumbs on her cheeks, grazing her tears told him that she was crying. He wanted her remorse, wanted her to come clean and tell him, but at the same time…he knew that he couldn't trust her words, actions were the only things that interested him, now.
"Dave." She said his name softly through her tears, her voice quivering. "I have to tell you something." She knew that it was now or never, and if he chose to walk away, then at least she had done the right thing. Hearing how he felt was all it took for her to know that she couldn't do what she was being forced to do.
"No." He put a finger on her lips to halt her. "Later."
"Please." She pushed his hand away, determined to tell him the truth.
And he couldn't hear what she had to tell him, he knew if she returned his feelings, if she could stand there in the midst of her lie and tell him that she loved him it would kill him…he wasn't altogether sure that he might not go on a violent rampage at the thought of her in cahoots with Triple H and claiming to be in love with him at the same time, and so he clamped his hand over her mouth again to shut her up. "Not now…" he told her. "After the match, we'll go back to the hotel and I'll make love to you until you can't move and then you can tell me whatever you wanna tell me, but not right now." It was a lie, an empty promise and he knew it…after the match he would likely be in a hospital exam room with an injury inflicted as a result of her betrayal and she would have her precious past, intact. Whatever it was that she had done to warrant such fierce secrecy and such cruel duplicity, he hoped that it was worth it because she was about to lose him.
He pressed his lips against hers with demanding, ignoring her tears. It was as if he had branded her, right there in that closet…no matter what she ever did after tonight and with whom, he would always be the one she remembered…and that's the way he wanted it.
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She tugged her elbow pads on and rolled her head from side to side, working a kink out of her neck, when she heard the voice from behind her. Christy Hemme turned to confirm who it was, and ducked her head slightly, when she saw Nancy standing in the doorway of the women's locker room, empty now, save for the two of them.
"You're not dressed for the match." Christy observed.
Nancy stepped further into the locker room and perched on the edge of a bench. "I can't do it." She told Christy.
"Brave all of a sudden, huh." Christy smirked, despite the fact that she had been thinking the same thing.
"I came to ask for your help." Nancy said, biting her bottom lip. "I might have thought I could go through with this whole thing, but not after knowing that he plans on putting Dave out of commission."
"Doesn't look like you have much choice." Christy appeared conflicted and nervous. "The man knows everything about everyone and he'll use it to his advantage."
"Christy, you could help me put a stop to this whole thing." Nancy said standing up and edging around the bench so she could talk face to face. "Please…if you care about Dave at all, even a little…"
"I can't help you." Christy insisted, her lashes sparkling with unshed tears. "I can't stand up against him."
"Then I was right to think he has something on you too." Nancy said, feeling very sorry for the pretty red-head.
"What, are you happy? That you're not the only one that has a bad past?" Christy spat, tears falling down her cheeks. "I made one mistake…one! And my whole career will be ruined if someone finds out…So no, Nancy I cannot help you and my advice is that if you wanna keep the world from finding out what you did, then you had better follow suite."
"I'm not saying you have to do it alone." Nancy pressed, "Look I know that after tonight, no matter whether we wrestle and I take a fall or whether I don't and he shreds my reputation…I'll never be with Dave Batista, ever again…and I can live with that…" She continued, knowing that it was a lie…she couldn't live with it, she felt as if her chest had been pried open as it was. "But watching someone tank his career through an injury that might ruin his entire future, is something I can't live with…and you shouldn't be able to either."
Christy shook her head fiercely letting the tears fall. "You love him…" She sputtered…She could see it in the way that Nancy spoke, she knew it and yet she was ready to fly into a fit of rage should Nancy actually admit it. "Don't you understand, you're strong, you'll survive if you lose everything. I won't." Her admission was heart rending and despite the angst that had been brewing between the two, Nancy felt fear and disquiet on Christy's behalf.
"We could go to Stephanie right now, or Vince." Nancy tried one last ditch effort and placed her hand on Christy's shoulder. "If we both go and tell them what we know, we could stop this whole thing!"
Christy shrugged off the hand. "No way…He has all the control, he's just too powerful…he even resurrected your slovenly mother from that trailer park and put her in the press box…if he can do that…than he can do anything."
Nancy pulled her hand away as if she'd been scorched and then her face contorted into a mask of misery. "You knew?…" She whispered angrily as hot tears spilled over her lashes. "You knew exactly what he was holding against me and you played along? For Dave? Because you wanted him and that's the only way you could get him?" Nancy had the sudden urge to pound the red-haired Diva, who at present would not even make eye contact.
"He's too powerful." Christy stated, drying her eyes and putting on her bravest face.
Nancy had no choices now other than to take things into her own hands, no one would believe her if Christy didn't back her. "He doesn't have any power unless we give it to him." Nancy reminded angrily and she turned and exited the locker room.