Here's Part 2 of my return to this story.

So Lucas forced himself on Stacy but he passed out before he could do anything REALLY serious. Randy's mind is going crazy - is it the drugs or is it the memories of Sofia haunting his brain?

People were packed like sardines in the tiny club. The electro-pop was blasting in the speakers and girls dressed in Herve Leger exchanged knowing glances every time a pseudo-celebrity stepped into the club. It was still early but Randy's date – if that's what they call a one-night-stand nowadays – was insistent they go to that particular club so he would meet her friends. They were on time and her friends were late.

Ashley was the daughter of a front man for an eighties rock band. She had a killer pair of legs, flaming red hair, and an undisclosed amount of piercings. The night before, he had let thoughts of Sofia destroy his chances of having sex. It wasn't like he was a sex addict. Sex and drugs were just ways for him to distract himself. With wrestling out of the picture for two months, these were the pastimes he was left with. Tonight, he promised himself he would get back into the swing of things and stop letting Sofia control his life.

"Randy," she whispered into his ear before she nibbled on his earlobe, "my friends are here."

He looked up and instantly recognized the blonde man of the group. It was Stacy's friend from that tabloid-worthy night at the club. Randy rolled his eyes and turned to Ashley. He was going to comment on her choice in friends, but looking at her he wasn't surprised. Sure, she was gorgeous but she lived off her dad's royalties. She didn't go to school, she didn't work, and she wasn't passionate about anything. At that point, it didn't really Randy that Ashley was friends with a guy known for being the club promoting son of a congressman.

"This motherfucker, your date?" asked Lucas, clearly drunk.

"Yes, Luc," Ashley narrowed her eyes, "Meet Randy Orton. Randy, meet Lucas 'asshole' Colwell."

The two didn't shake hands; instead they stared each other down before Lucas spoke. He liked to talk and nothing annoyed Randy more than a guy who only spewed bullshit and didn't know how to shut his mouth.

"Haven't you seen inTouch, Ash?" asked Lucas, "It said I kicked Randy Orton out of The Mink."

Randy raised his eyebrows. He couldn't believe the bullshit coming from this guy.

"Oh, nothing to say again, Orton?" Lucas scoffed, "Unlike your little Stacy last night. I believe she was screaming my name as I fucked her senseless."

Randy's blood rose immediately and he could feel his hands curl into fists and his legs ready to rise.

"Orton, I don't think it's a good idea for you to get violent with me. We both know what happened last time."

Ash held onto Randy's arm but she couldn't stop him from standing up and facing Lucas. Randy cocked his head to the side to suppress his anger. He wasn't ready to hit Lucas right away.

"I dare you to hit me," hissed Randy.

"I don't stoop down to your level,"

"You scared?"

"Fuck, no."

"You should be," smirked Randy as he looked at the colour wash out from Lucas' face.

"I don't have to deal with this shit," he growled, "I already have Stacy."

Randy shook his head. He didn't punch this guy in the face, and he wasn't daring this guy to punch him because of Stacy. He wasn't fighting for her. Lucas was being a little bitch and it infuriated him to have to be in the same room. Now, he kept bringing up Stacy like she was some sort of prize. He was so oblivious.

"I don't give a fuck about Stacy. By all means, fuck her senseless. Just get out of my way." Randy shoved him to the side and walked towards the door. He was outside trying to light up a cigarette when he heard Lucas' exasperating voice.

"Bro," he called dryly, "I didn't fuck her..."

Randy didn't care about Lucas' or Stacy's sex life. Randy didn't even know why Lucas assumed he was fighting for the former diva.

"In fact," he trailed off, "she screamed my name and told me to stop. That bitch!" Lucas raised his beer bottle in the air and stumbled his steps before he caught his balance. "But you know what, Randy Orton, I didn't stop. I didn't listen to that bitch say 'no'. Not to me. I'm not a little bitch. I'm not scared."

At this point, Randy didn't try to suppress his anger and he didn't try to keep his arms hung loosely on his sides. With a hard strike to his left cheek, Lucas fell to the floor. A few cameras flashed before Randy pushed his way to his car. He left the scene, but the photographs were going to catch up quickly.

As he drove along the freeway, he had one particular destination in mind but he wasn't quite sure where she lived. He debated his options. He could've called one of Stacy's friends; perhaps they knew her address. Then again, they probably wouldn't want to speak with him. He could call John. He recalled John visiting Stacy a few months ago. He hadn't spoken to John since the day of his suspension, and kind words and friendly hugs weren't exactly exchanged the last time they had seen each other. Randy had no other options though.

"John," said Randy, as he heard a muffled sound on the other line.

"What do you need, Randy?"

"I need Stacy's address."

A pause.

"Stacy's address?"

"Look, John, I don't have a lot of time to explain what's going on, but I just know Stacy's in a lot of trouble."

"What trouble?" asked John with genuine concern in his voice.

"I'm not really sure," said Randy, "I have to go see her."

"Why?"

"Just give me her address." He was so exasperated. The night and all the recent events since arriving in Los Angeles was taking a serious toll on him. Randy tried to get away from feeling anything, but the city had a way of bringing the past back into his present.

"Wait," John paused, "247 Bellevue Avenue. She lives in apartment 3. It's the first one on the left when you enter through the front gate."

"Thanks."

"Randy, what's going on? You have to tell me."

"I really don't know," his voice was weak and scared, "I think Stacy might have been raped."

Randy knocked on her door and waited for an answer. He stood there for five minutes but there was no answer in spite of the lights turned on and music playing from the stereo. He was going to go back to the hotel, but Lucas' drunken spiel reverberated in his head and he couldn't stand the thought of the douchebag forcing himself onto Stacy.

"Stacy, I'm worried about you. I saw Lucas tonight and he –"

Just then, the door opened and Stacy pulled him inside. Dressed in sweat pants and a tank top, Stacy looked scared out of her mind. She had dry tears staining her pretty face and her brown eyes were enclosed by dark, puffy circles. Intuitively, he pulled the trembling girl into a warm embrace. She warmed up into his hug and broke into sobs. He held onto her tighter as his eyes glazed with fire. He was going to get revenge.

When Stacy had settled down, the pair moved to the couch to talk. Randy asked her what happened, and although it wasn't as bad as Randy had thought, he was still angry at Lucas.

"He forced himself onto me but he passed out before he could ever go through with it."

"So he didn't rape you."

"Well, no, not yet. He kissed me and touched me... but no, he didn't rape me."

"It's still sexual assault. Did you call the police?" asked Randy.

Stacy shook her head.

"You should! Call them right now, Stace. What are you waiting for?"

"I don't know, Randy. He was drunk –"

"Oh my god, Stacy. Don't be stupid. That's not an excuse."

"He's my friend..."

"Are you serious right now?" he asked incredulously, "This guy nearly rapes you and you still think he's your friend."

"We were dating..."

"It doesn't matter. You weren't ready to have sex with him. You told him 'no'. He should have fucking listened and you should have fucking called the cops as soon as you got home."

"Randy, please. I don't need you to tell me I'm stupid," she said raising a hand to his face.

He raised his voice, "I don't care. Don't you understand what just happened to you?"

Stacy simply nodded as a tear fell down her cheek. Randy lifted her chin and wiped the tear away with his thumb. "Look, Stace. I don't know what kind of rumours you heard about me and the divas backstage, but I would never lay a finger on any of them unless they consented. Never."

"I know."

"Exactly, and that's why I can't let some asshole like him hurt you. In spite of everything, you still mean a lot to me."

Stacy bit her lip. She tried to control the tears from flowing. She knew Randy was right and it was stupid of her to try to defend Lucas' actions and pretend like she wasn't as big of a victim as she actually was.

"I can't help it, Stace," said Randy in a low whisper, "I promised to protect you."

As always please read & review! I really want to write this story and I seem to be getting quite a number of hits, but no reviews. What's up with that? :(