Disclaimer, etc., in part 1.

Part Seven

The last thing that Eve wanted to do was deal with Jeff Hardy. Unfortunately, she was listed as his manager for his match that night, which meant she had a choice... To either face him prior to the match and deal with what had happened, or to wait until it was time for the match and try to pretend that everything was okay while she was out there with him... Well, she had a third choice, too: to refuse to walk him out, but she had a feeling that would get her in trouble with the SmackDown GM and, as a diva that only wrestled on occasion, she couldn't really afford to do that. She needed to have someone to manage to keep things going with her WWE career when the matches were fewer and further between. Unfortunately, that meant that, at least for tonight, she couldn't really rock the boat and just ditch Jeff. Maybe by next week she'd have something else figured out...

Heaving out a sigh, the diva forced herself to push open the door to Jeff's locker room, not bothering to knock, because she didn't really care if she pissed him off. Not after what he'd done. Not after the lies he'd told the others.

He smirked when he saw her. "So, you did make it to the show."

"No thanks to you, asshole. And on top of that, you're a fucking liar, too," Eve snapped out before she could stop herself, the diva furious beyond belief at the sight of him... So calm and self-assured. He didn't give a damn what he'd done to her. Who knows... Maybe he'd managed to rationalize it to himself and convince himself that what he'd done wasn't that bad or that somehow she'd deserved it.

"I have no idea what you mean."

"You lied to Maria. You told her I messed up the car and that I ditched you-"

"Yeah... And you're lucky I'm such a nice guy, Eve. I mean... I paid for the damage myself. I really should have made you pay for it," Jeff said simply, as if he was actually telling the truth, and she thought the fact that he was saying it so casually, with so little malice, as if he actually believed what he was saying... She thought that made it all even worse.

"You did the damage. You tossed me out of the fucking car and drove off... and apparently hit something along the way if you've got damage you have to pay for," Eve shot back, and Jeff shrugged.

"That's what you say. See, I say you did it... And since I'm Jeff Hardy, and you're just lowly Eve Torres... Well, I wonder who they're going to believe? Maria and Kelly believe me," the younger of the Hardy brothers said, and Eve had to bite her lip to keep from blurting out that he shouldn't be so sure about that. Because while Maria was apparently ready to believe anything Jeff said, it was obvious to Eve that Kelly didn't believe him in the least. And while the urge to tell him that he didn't have people as snowed as he thought he did was strong, something stopped her. After all, he was already spreading lies about her. If he knew Kelly didn't believe what he was saying, maybe he would spread lies about the blonde, too, and the last thing Eve wanted to do was alienate someone that believed her over Jeff.

"You're an asshole. I don't know why I didn't see it before, but you're just as much of an asshole as your brother is. Maybe worse. And maybe you just hide it better. At least when you're not high, anyway," Eve said, stepping closer to her, forcing herself to meet his green eyes... Shaking her head when she saw that his eyes were dilated. A glance at his hand told her that it was shaking slightly. "You're still high, aren't you? Or you're coming down from it... Or took something else recently. You have a match tonight, Jeff-"

"So? It's not like I'm the first guy to step into the ring with a little pick-me-up going on. And it's not like anyone's going to believe you-"

"All they have to do is take a good look at you to realize you're on something," Eve spat back at him, the diva shaking her head and turning to leave the room, forcing herself not to limp as she walked, not caring about the pain, just not wanting Jeff to know that she was injured.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" he demanded, and she sent a sneer over her shoulder at him.

"Where do you think I'm going? To get an official to prove you can't be out there tonight!" she shot back, reaching for the door, then nearly screaming when he reached out and grabbed her arm, yanking her around and slamming her against the wall. He put his arm across her throat, pressing hard enough that it was difficult to breathe, much less get the breath she would need to scream for help. Her eyes widened in shock at his actions because even now, even after what he'd done before, she still had trouble believing he was putting his hands on her like this. How had she not seen this before? This side of him? Had she simply been lucky? Had it just been by happy accident that she'd managed to stay out of his way when he was on a rampage? Or had she been so worried about her position as his manager for so long that she'd tiptoed around him so much that he'd just never gotten pissed at her before? She'd seen him high before, yes... But never like this. Maybe it was because she'd always tried to avoid being around very much when he was high... Mostly, she'd just made sure he got to bed and didn't end up dying because he'd choked on his own vomit. Before today, she'd always been able to get away when he was high or drunk or stoned, but today in the car, she hadn't been able to escape, hadn't had anyone else there as a buffer. And now, all she could think was that she couldn't believe that it had come to this. That somehow, in the past twenty-four hours, any illusions she'd still had that Jeff Hardy was a decent guy that just liked to party too much had been completely shattered.

"You're not telling anybody anything, Eve. You're going to keep your mouth shut if you want to keep your job, because I can and will get you fired. You're just a diva. I'm Jeff fucking Hardy, and I'm going to be the champion in a few weeks. Edge will lose, I will win, and the fans will love every minute of it. Because the fans love me. And they won't believe a word you say if you try to claim anything about me."

Eve reached up, managing to get her hands on his chest and shoving him back a few steps. Glaring at him, she rubbed at her throat. "Are you so sure they won't believe me if I say you're trashed? You have been suspended twice, you know."

"Maybe. But everyone makes mistakes, and I'm sorry for it now. I keep my nose clean."

"By snorting stuff up it?" Eve couldn't help but ask, the diva taking a step back from him and actually running into the wall when she saw the look he sent her way for that remark. Clearly, he didn't appreciate her words.

"I'm the good guy, Eve. Everyone likes a good story. Guy cleans up his act, becomes champion. They'd hate you for ruining it. Not that they would believe you-"

"How do you pass the drug tests? You're clearly high right now. You've probably gotten into the ring high. The drug tests are random... How do you not get caught?"

He shrugged. "I have my ways. Maybe I just know better people than you do," the man said. He shook his head, smirking as he stepped back from her, no longer crowding her personal space. "How'd you get here, anyway?" he wanted to know, and Eve snorted.

"Like you care."

"I guess I don't. But you're here. Since I had your cell phone delivered to you with the rest of your stuff this afternoon - thoughtful, I know - I'm sure you didn't call someone to come and get you. So how'd you get to the hotel and, well... Here?" he asked, and something told Eve not to tell him the truth. Something told her that, all in all, it would be best if she kept the fact that CM Punk had come to her rescue a secret. She didn't know why she felt that way... Maybe she just liked having a secret from Jeff Hardy. Maybe she liked knowing that there was at least one other person in the company that knew what a complete bastard he was. Maybe two other people if Kelly ended up believing her story as well. Maybe she liked the idea that, at some point, CM Punk may just get pissed off and go after Jeff Hardy and Jeff wouldn't have any idea as to the reason why. Whatever the reason, she didn't tell the truth about what had happened that day after he'd driven off without her.

"I walked back to the rest stop. You know... The one we were at when you decided you just couldn't wait to get high. It had a payphone, and I had money. I called information, then managed to get a cab to come and get me. I paid a fortune, but I got here. I also took a cab to the arena," Eve informed him, keeping her expression neutral, wondering what he'd say if he knew that the only honest thing in her explanation was actually her final sentence. Sure, her plan had been to walk back to the rest stop and make a few phone calls, but she hadn't actually been planning to call a cab; she'd been planning to call a friend. But he didn't need to know that, just like he didn't need to know about her injured leg or feet or the daze she'd been in when Punk had basically rescued her. A tattooed knight driving a slightly battered car.

Jeff smirked. "Too embarrassed to call a friend and tell the truth? Good. Keep it that way. No one would believe if you tried to tell the truth now anyway. Now... I suggest you go and find something decent to wear to walk me out. Those shoes are awful-"

"What makes you think I'm walking you out tonight-"

"Because you have two choices... Act like everything's fine and walk me out... Or don't and try to tell people the truth, and I make your life in the WWE miserable. Your choice. I'm sure you'll make the right one."