Disclaimer, etc., in part 1.

Thanks to everyone that's reviewed so far... and happy new year! :)

Part Three

When he got to the car, he carefully set her down on the trunk for a moment so he could unlock the vehicle and open the back door, the man careful to make sure that he put her close enough to the edge so that the skin left uncovered by her shorts didn't touch the hot surface of the car. Once the door was open, Punk lifted Eve in his arms again, then lowered her down onto the edge of the bench seat in the back of the car, urging her further into the vehicle.

"You can go ahead and lay down. Be careful of your leg," he told her, gently easing her down so that she was laying on her side. Eve went without complaint, situating herself as best she could, drawing her legs up a bit so that her feet were inside the car, and Punk winced as he saw the blood and dirt that was there. Some of the cuts seemed to still be bleeding a little, though it wasn't too bad. However, this was still a rental car, and he'd have to pay if he fucked up the seats, so he dug around in his duffel bag for a t-shirt, pulling out a couple of other things as well, leaving them on the floor boards as he lifted her feet and put the plain t-shirt beneath them, figuring that would keep the blood and dirt off the seats... The man frowning as he looked down at her injured feet again. Her feet had to hurt like a bitch, but other than her quiet words just before he'd picked her up, the diva hadn't complained at all... And really, she hadn't even been complaining then. She'd just been making a comment, a statement of fact, an obvious truth.

Sighing softly, Punk stepped back, the man shaking his head as he closed the door to the car. He knew he needed to do something about her leg and her feet - clean them up at least, though cleaning and bandaging would be best - but he didn't exactly have a first aid kit in the car with him at the moment. He figured his best bet would be to go down the road a little ways and try to find a drug store or something - a Wal-Mart would work - that carried what he'd need to get her cleaned up, but he wasn't sure how far he'd have to go for that. He had some bottled water in the car with him, so he could try to wash off the cuts, but that would just make a mess because he'd basically have to just pour it over the injuries, and it probably wouldn't do much good. Those cuts needed to be thoroughly washed, and they needed to be cleaned with antiseptic and bandaged.

Damn Jeff Hardy. Damn him to all sorts of hell for what he'd done. Because, despite the fact that Eve hadn't technically named names about who it was that had left her out there in the middle of nowhere injured and without her shoes or cell phone, there was no doubt in his mind that it was the bastard that she managed that had done it. She'd said 'he', and there wasn't any other guy CM Punk could think of that Eve would be traveling with.

And to think, the crowds practically thought Jeff freaking Hardy was a god. They probably wouldn't think so highly of the bastard if they knew how he treated his manager. Or maybe the sheep would just find an excuse for it, try and blame Eve for it or something.

There was no way that the blame for this could be put on Eve.

Taking a deep breath, Punk stood at the back of his car, fighting the urge to scream or punch something, knowing that Eve would hear it if he yelled and feel it if he punched the back of the car. On top of that, hitting the car would hurt his hand, and if he managed to somehow leave a dent, then he'd be paying for the damages since it was a rental. Once he was sure he had control of himself, the man made his way around the back of the car and got in the front seat, quickly turning the key in the ignition and making sure the air was turned on pretty good. Eve had probably gotten pretty damn hot out there; she needed to cool off. He didn't want to turn the air on too high, though. He didn't want to make her cold.

"You okay back there?" he said after a moment, and he was pretty sure he heard her sniffle before she spoke.

"I'm fine."

"No, you're really not," he replied, disputing her claim just as he had less than ten minutes before. "I'm going to try and find a place that has first aid stuff. Take care of those cuts." He put the car in gear, checked to make sure that no one was coming before he eased the vehicle back onto the road. Truth was, the road was pretty damned deserted. He didn't remember seeing a car from the time he'd pulled off the road to go to Eve. After a moment, the man spoke again. "You and Jeff get into a fight?" he asked, careful to keep his voice as neutral as possible, not wanting his anger to bleed through, not wanting Eve to know just how pissed off he was about the situation. He could hear Eve sigh, heard rustling in the back that meant she was shifting around a bit. A hiss through her teeth probably meaning she'd hit her feet or her thigh on something. After several seconds, she finally spoke, her voice carefully neutral, like she was trying to hold back any emotion she felt about the situation.

"We stopped at the rest stop. It was a couple of miles back."

"I saw it."

"He took a long time. When he came back to the car, something seemed off. Once we got on the road... I realized he wasn't driving very well. Erratic. He was weaving around and driving too fast. He went in the other lane, and I grabbed the wheel, pulled on it until we were back in our lane. He pulled off onto the shoulder. By that time, I already knew what was wrong. The speeding, the weaving around the road, the nervous tapping, moving in his seat like he couldn't sit still. He was high."

"Fucking bastard," Punk muttered, unable to stop himself, though he was able to keep his voice low. Hopefully low enough that Eve didn't hear the words. If she did, she didn't seem to care, the diva instead continuing to speak.

"I told him we were switching seats. That I was driving. That I wouldn't let him drive high. He reached across me and opened the door. I thought he was being reasonable. Instead, he shoved me out of the car, threw my purse out, and drove off. I thought there had been an old payphone at the rest stop, and I had change in my purse, so I started to walk back. I don't know how far Jeff and I had gone from the rest stop, and I don't know how far I walked. Then you came. And now. Well, and now," she said, her voice growing quiet again, the diva falling silent and, in truth, there really wasn't much else to say. Not for her, anyway. CM Punk, on the other hand, was desperately fighting the urge to let loose with a particularly nasty string of swear words to describe what he thought of Jeff Hardy at the moment. The worst thing was, he couldn't say he was all that surprised to find out that Hardy had gotten behind the wheel when he was high as a kite. He knew the other man'd had problems with drugs in the past. Hell, everybody knew it. Rumor had it the company had wanted him to get help back in 2002 and he'd quit because of it, and since he'd returned a few years ago, the guy had already gotten two strikes against him. It was sad and pathetic. And so was the fact that people kept making excuses for him.

After several seconds of silence in which Punk tried to force himself to calm down, the man spoke, trying hard to keep his voice even. "I'm sorry, Eve."

"It's not your fault," she said, her voice as soft as his had been, probably softer. She no longer sounded upset. Instead, she just sounded tired. After the shit that had happened today, she probably was.

"I've got a jacket back there. Too damn hot outside for me to need it, but you could use it as a pillow or something. Get some rest." He shifted slightly, reaching back into the floor boards to grope around for the material, finding the hoodie he pulled out of his duffel bag earlier after a few seconds, then holding it out to her. After a moment, he felt her reach out to take it, her fingers brushing over his as she did so. He was pretty sure that she was shaking. "Eve..."

"Thank you," she said when he trailed off, and he could hear her shifting around a little again, probably bunching the jacket up so that it would make as comfortable of a pillow as she could force it to be.

"There's a little cooler back there, too. Near your feet. It's got water and Pepsi in it. Feel free to take whatever you want. I don't know how long you were out there, but if it was awhile, then water would probably do you some good," he said, not sure if she'd been stuck out in the heat long enough to start getting dehydrated or not.

"I'll keep that in mind," Eve said softly, the diva shifting around a bit more, though he didn't hear the cooler open. She probably didn't feel like going through the effort to do so. When they stopped again, he'd have to make sure that he got a drink out for her. "Punk?"

"Yeah?" he replied.

"Thank you. For stopping for me," the diva told him in a voice that wasn't much over a whisper, and he shifted slightly, a little uncomfortable. For some reason, people thanking him always made him feel a bit uncomfortable; he didn't know why.

"Anybody would have done it," he said after a moment, and she gave a soft laugh that held no humor.

"No, they wouldn't have."