OH GOD, please don't hate me for lack of updates recently! This hasn't been the best month so far and the drama coming up in my story is going to match a lot of what I've been going through. This is pretty short but bare with me..I have to post this to keep interest, lol. I am working on Chapter 20 and it's gonna be great but I just wanted to post this, as I said, to keep you all with me. I couldn't bare it without my readers:(

-Em

Chapter Nineteen: "Left In The Dark"

Platinum hair tangled up her trembling fingers as she tugged at the rebellious locks, her chocolate eyes wide open, staring into the darkness that seemed to swallow her up as she lay awake. Trish Stratus' hot tears soaked the satin cloth of her pillow, the salty substance stopping to linger on the soft skin of her lips. She could taste the remorse and the regret as she sobbed aloud, her chest repeatedly rising and falling as she gasped for much needed oxygen. Hours had passed since her encounter with Randy Orton and her head filled with constant thoughts of the agonizing truth that she couldn't resist him. She could still feel his skilled fingers stroking her smoothly, the pressure of his constant pumping pure torture as she awaited a painful orgasm that sent her body into shock for the first time in months. A sad smile tugged at the corners of Trish's chapped lips in spite of her anguish..she could still see that haunting twinkle in his eye as he hovered above her, chewing gently on his bottom lip to conceal the smirk that threatened to reveal itself to her. She let out a soft laugh that was abruptly ended with the continous sobs that were shaking her body forcefully.

"Trish! Honey, what's going on?" Trish jumped up in bed at the sudden words spoken through the door, the calming voice of Amy Dumas sounding from the other side.

"Come in," she squeaked, squinting as the bright hallway lights stung at her eyes that had been comfortly adjusted to the darkness. The fiery redhead flicked on the lamp that sat at Trish's bedside, her eyes narrowed in worry as she studied the mascara that had now stained the pillowcase that was supporting Trish's head.

"Jesus, what is wrong sweetheart?" Bloodshot eyes continued to produce free flowing tears as the redhead made herself comfortable on the bed, eyes still glimmering with question.

"I fucked up..so bad," Trish sobbed, rolling onto her stomach so that she could now hide her face from Amy's view.

"What the hell are you talkin' about?" the redhead asked, wrinkling her nose as she stared at her friend's shaking form. Rememberance hit Amy like a freight train at full speed, her eyes widening in horrified realization. "Oh.." she whispered, her heart sinking down in her chest.

"Yeah, oh! Are you fucking proud of yourself, forcing me to go on that date!" Trish sobbed, sitting up suddenly to stare daggers into the woman who was now bowing her head, guilt shadowing her pretty features. "He fucking fingered me..happy now? You played matchmaker and FUCKED up totally--"

"Whoa, whoa, put the brakes on, sweetie! I don't recall ever takin' away your freewill! You can't blame me for allowing Randy to..uh, do that," Amy hissed, a finger raised as if to tell the blonde Canadian that she wasn't playing around. Trish continued to glare at the redhead, her lips quivering continuosly. "You just don't want to admit that you got caught up..it happens, honey--"

"Well, it shouldn't! What's this hold he has on me?" Amy blinked and silently shook her head, the answers to her friends question unknown. Nobody could really figure that out for her..only herself. "You need to figure that out on your own..I can't help you." Trish wiped helplessly at her tear stained cheeks, wishing with everything she had that they would stop flowing.

"I know..but the answers are never clear.." she whispered, staring down at the sheets and picking at them with nervous habit.

"You'll figure it out..just be strong, it's all you can do."

xxxxx

Stacy fumbled with her skirt for what seemed like the tenth time in the past minute, her lips pursed in annoyance at the rebellious fabric. If only it would stop wrinkling..it would drive her crazy if it wasn't straight. The leggy Diva continued to attempt a win over her clothing, unaware of the dark set of eyes that were lingering on her frazzled features. When she finally got the strange feeling that she was being watched, Stacy looked up quickly to find Dave Batista standing before her, a look of amusement and distress mixed on his handsome face.

"Oh, Dave! Don't ask..just be thankful that you never have to wear a skirt," she smiled, smoothing out the fabric before finally giving up on the impossible task.

"I, er, am quite thankful, now that you mention it," he chuckled, his heavy Title belt hanging comfortablely onto his right shoulder, a half empty bottle of water tightly grasped in the other hand. "But before the show starts, have you by any chance gotten to talk to Trish recently?" Stacy furrowed her brow and shook her head, the honest realization that the Canadian blonde had been so distant settling on the Diva's chest heavily.

"No..she hasn't been herself lately. I've tried to stay away, honestly. When she gets like this, it's not pleasant..why do you ask?" Dave shifted his weight and let out an uneasy breath, closing his eyes tightly for a second before opening them to smile nonchalantly.

"No reason. Thanks anyway, Stace." Mouth agape to protest the now departing Dave Batista, Stacy ran her mind over the many questions swirling in her already stressed mind. Now that he'd mentioned it, Trish hadn't even talked to much of anybody as of late. She just did her thing, worked out and went to bed. It was the same routine every damn day..hardly a word spoken. But Stacy selfishly brushed it aside as a morale swing for the Canadian and decided to leave it at that. Besides..she had John Cena to worry about, speaking of people who weren't acting normal..

xxxxx

Crystal blue orbs flew open suddenly as the feeling of being intently watched began to bring shivers down his spine, John's whole body jumping in shock. He wasn't used to be awoken like this and it was uncomfortable to be stared at while sleeping. Without having to look at who had now joined him in the bed and who was the one watching him, John let out a deep breath and attempted to sound as cool as possible.

"Stacy, what's the problem now?"

"You assume there's something wrong just because I join you in bed?" she asked coldly, eyebrows raised as she continued to gaze at the turned back of her lover.

"Do I really need to answer that?" John sneered, aware of the recent events that took place prior to this current situation. Stacy had insisted that they spend some time together and being as foolish as he was, he had agreed to do so..only to end up in the leggy blonde's bed once again. John took in a sharp intake of air as these unpleasant memories flooded his mind. When was all this shit going to end? How could he act like everything was okay when he was nothing more than a toy?

"What is that supposed to mean?" Stacy squeaked, frowning thoughtfully as she stared down at her lap in question.

"Nothing. Forget it," he whispered, wincing as though he were in extreme pain when cool hands pressed into his hot skin.

"You're just tired, baby.." John wanted to ignore the soft sensations that she caused to run down his body at the massages she was now giving him but he honestly couldn't. No matter how hard he tried, he was always the victim in this sick little game. Anger burned at his insides as Stacy now pressed teasing kisses against his shoulders, her lips holding both his joy and sorrow at their simple touch.

"C'mon, let's just get some rest.." he whispered again, pulling away so that he could seperate himself from the clutches of the woman beside him.

"Why? It's not we have anywhere to be tomorrow," Stacy purred, reaching over to touch his body once again, only to have him jump away and onto his feet so that he was now standing, glaring down at her as though she had murdered his mother. "Wha--"

"Don't..touch me, Stacy. Just go back to your room, get some sleep and leave me alone," John stated firmly, digging his heel into the carpet as he watched her under an intense, icy gaze. Hazel orbs were wide with surprise and genuine hurt as she stared back, her mouth hanging open to protest this sudden outburst from her lover. "I'm not in the mood tonight so go..please." Stacy's eyes narrowed as she studied him silently, chewing her bottom lip as if to hold back urges to question this random dismissal.

"Whatever..I'll just come back tomorrow morning when you've rested," she said, slipping her fuzzy slippers back on before making her way towards the door.

"No..don't come in the morning. I'll see you at lunch when we go out with Trish and Amy." Stacy let out a heavy sigh, resting her hand on the doorframe as she turned to study John once more.

"Tell me why you're acting like this again?"

"I don't want to explain now. We'll talk about this later, okay?" And with that John jumped back into bed, leaving the leggy blonde in the doorway, her eyes filled with unhidden hurt at the strange behavior of the usually loving man before her. She turned slowly on her heel and left the room, letting the door slam shut behind her. Stacy wiped at her eyes, running a few trembling fingers through her soft blonde locks as she distantly ran over reasons for John's strange mood in her mind. What had she done wrong? All she did was come over to be close to him again since sleep wasn't coming easy to her this evening. Usually he loved when she touched him but recently..recently things were odd, things were so strained and awkward. And she hated it..she hated being left in the dark as to what he was truly feeling..