CJ's worried mind confirmed itself when, as he was preparing to leave, he heard Paul and Sean outside of the locker room talking to Jesse, who was obviously out of it and very upset. Chris was ready to bolt out the back door, but something other than common sense was telling him to stay and listen, and this something other kept him glued by the door.
"So what the fuck was that?" This was Paul's angry growl. "You shoot, he shoots back?"
"The fucker has balls," Jesse replied in a low tone, tired and ready to call it a night, his voice almost pleading in comparison to Paul Levesque's. "Didn't expect him to come at me so soon."
"But he did," Waltman answered. "What are we gonna do about it?"
"You *know* he's got to pay for this shit." CJ could just see Paul authoritatively folding his arms while barking directions and orders, like now. There was a pause and Chris seemed to lean toward the door more to catch any word. Finally, Paul spoke again. "We'll do what we need to do. Find him and..talk to him."
Well, Our Hero didn't need to hear much more. It was go-time. They were looking for him and he sure as hell didn't need to "talk" to them in the pain that he was in right now.
So he ran. Not literally, but he grabbed his gear and walked pretty damn quickly out of the locker room's back door, taking him to the deserted hallways on the other side of the arena and out the side-door exit. His head was swirling and his knees were ready to buckle. Surely he wasn't in fit condition to drive, but he had to get out of Dodge before they found him. He found his way to the reserved parking level without much trouble, and breathed a sigh of relief when he actually remembered where the car was.
"Fuck, where did I put the keys?" CJ fished around in the gym bag for a bit, looking over his shoulder every few seconds. No one was there, save a squatty security guard about 100 feet away stationed at his little post, flipping absorbedly through a magazine. Safe enough. Chris felt his hand brush against the car keys, and quickly he yanked them out of the gym bag...so quickly they dropped to the ground with a mischevous little jingle.
"Damn!" As he stooped over to get them, he jumped when he heard a loud and boisterous voice.
"Hey, bud!"
CJ almost jumped up with a yelp. Strangely enough, his fears didn't subside when he realized it was Andrew Martin calling after him.
"Sorry if I made you piss your pants," chuckled Andrew the Mind Reader. "I've been looking for you. Adam told me to take you back to the hotel, he said to make sure you don't go by yourself."
CJ's mind searched for some excuse to not have Andrew drive him anywhere, but then he remembered his circumstances and realized he would have had Andrew Martin drive him straight into a firey building with gasoline rags in the trunk, so long as Paul Levesque and Sean Waltman were nowhere near a 3-mile radius.
"Ok," was Our Hero's near-breathless reply.
"Calm down, man. Come on, I'll buy you a drink when we get there."
CJ didn't think his condition was best suited for any kind of alcohol, but anything was better than staying in or near the arena with his "friends" hanging around.
****************************
If Chris Jericho's brain was foggy enough when he left the arena that night after the pay-per-view, it was twice as mixed up more than two hours later.
Andrew Martin had made good on his drink offer, and Our Hero decided to down maybe one or two beers just to take his mind off his troubles. One beer turned to three and so on at Andrew's insistence, and soon enough, Chris was good and tipsy. CJ hadn't really learned from his previous experience with Joanie that drinking really does nothing for thought patterns. Ah well, at least he was nowhere near a steering wheel.
After 11:00, he was nowhere near Andrew Martin, either. The two of them separated as the afterparty crowd came in and Chris recieved the usual how-do's and pats on the back from the crew and workers. Andrew slipped off somewhere else, somewhere far off, and CJ was left at the bar to fend for himself. Only after he realized that he was by himself did he remember that he was a marked man. And at this recognizance, who better to show up at the hotel bar than Joanie Laurer and Sean Waltman? There they were, walking in almost slow-motion through the door, greeting pals and slapping hands.
Ohhh hell.
CJ wasn't drunk enough to be brave, yet he wasn't sober enough to leave on his own. As he tried to stay hidden from everyone that wanted to kick his ass, he looked for someone to assist him back to his room. Where the hell were Jason and Adam when you needed them??
Chris half-stepped, half-stumbled away from the bar and quietly went through an exit-door towards the back of the restaurant. He was getting pretty good at finding these getaways. This exit in particular put him out into the hotel lobby, where he was sure fans would gather soon and find a soused Chris Jericho to sign their autographs.
He had to get out of here. Jericho, alcohol, and hotel lobbies weren't a pretty mix, as we all know.
Oh God whattammIgonnado, whattammIgonnado...he thought this as he looked around for someone that wasn't out to get him. No one. No one but bellboys and various tourists that hadn't noticed him yet. There had to be someone that could help him at least get back to his room. Then he saw that someone come in with her mother.
The Lord really does work in mysterious ways, doesn't He?
And boy, does He make *you* work in return. CJ saw Stephanie McMahon come in, and he tried his best to trail her, but she and Linda made it into an elevator before he could catch them. In the meantime, they were oblivious of his presence. Once again, he noted, when he was trying to catch up to Stephanie, an elevator was there to bite him on the ass in his hot pursuit.
Well, there was no way in hell he'd be able to take the stairs this time. As a matter of fact, there'd be no way in hell he'd be able to get into his room anyway. CJ remembered, while standing there like an idiot, he'd taken the car keys in with him, but convinently left his room key in the gym bag, which was snugly nestled in the trunk of said car.
Ohhh hell.
He wasn't going back outside. He wasn't going anywhere that he could get his ass kicked, actually. Chris just wanted to stand there and cry. What else could hap...
A glimmer of sense hit Our Hero's addled brain. He looked up at the elevator numbers through bleary eyes and waited for Stephanie to get off at her floor. It stopped, and with abandon he rapidly pressed the "up" button, as if pressing it more than once would make it come back down any faster.
"Come on, come on, come on..." He almost sobbed this through clenched teeth. "Pllleeeeeeeease..."
Ding. Home free.
The Initiated - 42 "Gimme Shelter"
After she'd bid a loving goodnight to her mother, Stephanie McMahon didn't expect to be startled in the hallway by a very fidgety and very tipsy Chris Jericho. But there he was, staggering towards her and pausing halfway down the hall to lean up against a wall for support. Stephanie stared at him, room key in hand, blue eyes wide open and fixated on this poor guy.
He spoke after catching his breath a little. "Sorry if this is kind of odd." He shrugged slightly, giving the impression that she was the only person he could turn to at the moment.
"That's the understatement of the year," she said, surprisingly in a calm voice. "What's the matter?"
"Ten million things." CJ knew his speech was slurring, and he fought to make some sort of sense. "I'm..I'm drunk, Stephie."
She nodded, looking him over. "So I see."
"I'm hurt, too. And they..they really want to get back at me for what I did tonight, and..I'm drunk...and I don't have my key to get back in my room, and.." He tried to think of something else to say but the words weren't coming out easily. Oh no..no..no..don't cry, please don't cry.
Too late. There he went, blubbering like a little kid. He didn't care how stupid he looked, though. It was all true. Better this than passing out dead cold in front of her.
Stephanie's feminine instinct came into play then, and of course she couldn't just turn him away. Time to play mommy for this pitiful thing that wept openly in front of her. She took him by the hand. "Okay, then. I understand. Come on in, just for a little while." Once he sobered up she'd send him back from whence he came. Stephanie couldn't help but wonder where he'd lost his key.
CJ felt a little better once inside and with a closed and locked door. He sniffled and murmured apologies as he followed Stephanie into the hotel room. She tried hard to stifle a giggle. He was such a child sometimes.
"It's all right, Chris. Sit down." She motioned towards a chair and quickly remembered when she'd been a guest in his hotel room not quite long ago and it was CJ who had to soothe her own tears. Irony, however, was lost for the moment on Chris Jericho, who sank into the seat and looked up at her.
"Of course you know you can't stay here all night," she said softly, looking down at him with a smile. "Once you get a little sober I'll help you back to your room."
"Thanks," he mumbled. "I just don't, you know, don't want to be caught alone where they can catch up with me."
"Mmhm," Stephanie took a seat on the bed across from him and took his hand, trying her best to comfort CJ. "I'm sure when you're all sobered up and healed you'll be more than willing to get at them again." She cocked her head a little, noticing the cut above his eye. "Where does it hurt?"
"Everywhere."
"Have you talked to a doctor?"
"No. Well, not really. I don't know."
"You could have broken bones."
"I really don't want to leave right now if it's okay with you."
"Whatever." Stephanie wasn't about to argue with an inebriate. Instead, she got up to put on some coffee, finding one of the little complimentary instant packets. It wasn't the best kind, but it would do for someone that needed quick sobering.
"I'm making you some coffee," she said, serious about getting him out of here as soon as possible. What would her mother think if she knew that Stephanie had a drunk guy in here?
"I don't want any."
"It's not a question of *want*," she said, becoming quickly exasperated as she walked into the bathroom to retrieve hot water. "You need it."
CJ pouted as she left him. Here he was, all hurt and in pain. The least Stephanie could do is be a little nicer to him. But then again she's so nice right now, though, right? She took him in, after all. He thought about this momentarily.
I should thank her more for this, he thought. She needs a hug. A great big hug.
Our Hero got up and limped after Stephanie, ready to repay kindness with kindness. He poked his head in the door. "Steph? Stephy?"
"It's almost ready, go sit down." Stephanie tried hard not to treat him like her puppy, but maybe she'd have to. Sit. Stay!
"I just wanna thank you." CJ leaned up against the doorway, reaching a hand out to touch her shoulder. She pulled away.
"Don't. Just go sit, that's how you can thank me."
"Steph..." He reached out again, this time fondling her hair. Soft, as always.
She pushed his hand away then, and this time faced him. "I said don't do that. Go on, go sit down, now."
He pouted again. "I just wanted to hug you." Actually now that he'd caressed that soft hair, he wanted to do a little more. "Just let me hug you."
Stephanie drew a harried breath. "I *know* where you're going with this, Chris. Now just go sit down, I'm not going there." With that, she turned back around to check on the coffeepot, hoping that having her back to him would make him get the point.
It didn't, of course. CJ was one of those really relentless drunks, as Stephanie would find out soon. He stepped in the little bathroom all the way now, and boldly, from behind, wrapped his arms around her waist.
"Oh what the *hell* are you doing?" Stephanie was more than agitated now. "Stop it, let me go and stop acting like an idiot..."
He turned her around and put his mouth over hers. It can't actually be called a kiss, since it was very sloppy and not very romantic. Just his mouth over hers, a lot of slobber, and a tongue. And his hands. Everywhere. Grabbing at her breats, going over her butt, even up her skirt a little. Stephanie struggled and finally broke free.
"QUIT!" To exclamate this, she accompanied her shout with a slap to his face. Somehow, CJ had overstayed his welcome, but he wasn't really getting the point. Well, really, at this point, he wasn't really getting or feeling anything, not even all the pain. And he was feeling really, *really* ornery all of a sudden.
Instead of paying any attention to her, Our Hero grabbed Stephanie again and repeated the mouth-to-mouth attempt. She struggled again, yet this time he had her hands held tightly in his own. That's when she began to search for that panic button. There was really no way CJ could have hurt her, though, for he was way too intoxicated, but to say the least, Stephanie was smaller than him and the odds were against her. After a minute he came up for air.
"Chris..." Stephanie looked up at him, trying to ease her fear, trying to regain control. "Don't. Please."
He paused then, breathless, realizing what he was doing. This really didn't go like he planned it, did it?
"Oh God. I-I'm sorry.." He pulled away from her then, shocked at himself. "I'm sorry." With that, he stumbled away, again in tears. He collapsed on the bed and sobbed while Stephanie tried to slow her heartbeat. He was harmless, really, but damn that could have been scary. After a few minutes she composed herself and went back into the room. Our Hero lay facedown on the bed, now quiet. Problably pouting again.
"Chris, I think it'd be best if you left now," she said. "I'll help you back to your room. Come on." She shook his shoulder. No response.
"Chris, come on. Time to go."
He was asleep. Right there on the bed. Stephanie moaned softly and shook her head with a chuckle. "Just goes from bad to worse," she sighed to herself, sitting down beside him and staring at the heap of Chris Jericho that she just couldn't seem to shake herself away from.
The Initiated - 43 "Ultimatum"
"Fucking COCKSUCKER!"
One more punch to the gut. CJ felt the wind gush out of him and didn't even have time to realize what'd happened when his neck snapped backwards after a solid right hook. He could taste the blood already, running down his lip onto his chin. Oh God, please, end this!
No such luck. Paul Levesque continued the assault as Sean and Joanie held Our Hero fo him. Blinding shots to the head and eyes. Chris closed his eyes one more time and felt himself swirling around in the dark.
"Like that, bitch?" Paul followed the last syllable with a tough kick to the ribs. "LIKE IT???"
CJ attempted to open his eyes again and realized he couldn't fully open his left eye, which was swelling shut now. He tried to look Paul in the face but couldn't see him. Hell, for all he knew, he looked like...Andrew Martin.
Was it Andrew Martin kicking his ass, anyway? Oh hell, it didn't matter anymore. What mattered was the pain and the blood.
CJ tried to focus as he felt his hair being grabbed, pulling his face closer to a someone he couldn't even see. The someone looked a lot like Andrew Martin but sounded like Paul Levesque.
"Yeah, I knew you liked that, punk. What, you gonna pass out on me?" CJ's head swirled again and he tilted forward, about to vomit on this person's shoes. "Wake up, then. You hear? Get UP!"
His eyes opened again and he saw nothing but intense light that hurt his head even worse. He managed a slight whimper.
"Are you up?" This time the voice was softer, and, yes, kind. "Get up, now. You can't sleep forever, even though I know it'd be nice." He felt a hand, a gentle one, stroking his hair. CJ rolled over and through a dreamy blur, he saw Stephanie.
"Do you even remember where you are?" She looked down at him with a smile playing on her lips.
"Light..." he groaned. Ugh, cottonmouth. "Please."
Stephanie turned toward the window and realized what he meant. "Ohh. Sorry." She went for the curtains and shut them. Instantly the room went from glaring, burning bright to a sweeter and cooler darkness. Bliss for a hangover.
He looked back up at her now, trying to collect his thoughts. There was a pay-per-view last night, he remembered that much. So that meant today was...Monday? Oh Lord.
"Stephanie.."
"Yes?"
"Was I here all night?"
"Hmmhumm." She nodded. "You were soused."
CJ then realized that it was a bed he was lying on, and she was there. Huh?
"What are you doing in my room?" CJ's eyes widened a little.
Stephanie chuckled, two steps ahead of him. "Slow down, big boy. This is my room. You came here because you couldn't find your room key. But of course you wouldn't remember any of that."
Chris shook his head, trying to make sense of the whole thing. "We didn't...did we?"
"No," she answered matter-of-factly. "We didn't make love."
He didn't know how to take that, really.
Stephanie got up. "I slept on the other bed," she said, motioning towards the neat and tidy, already-made bed not 2 feet away from his. Well, at least they'd been that close.
Chris sat up a little, trying to clear his head. "You weren't afraid? I mean..you trusted me?"
She was at the mirror, brushing her hair, yet then turned to face him after he asked this. With a condescending smile, she laid out the cold truth. "You were a little too tipsy to maintain an erection, if that's what you mean. I wasn't afraid."
"Oh," he said, a little crestfallen for no real reason. He tried to shake off the cobwebs again. "Sorry if I was a burden."
"No," she said, "you weren't trouble. After you passed out on the bed I just went off to sleep myself. No big deal."
"But I mean it could have been," he said. "I mean I don't want you to think that's something I do all the time."
"We all have our weak points," she said, continuing to brush her hair.
"Because I don't," he continued. "I don't drink all the time. Just when...I...don't know."
"You had a pretty rough night. You told me that 'they' were after you. Is that true?"
He remembered the dream and felt a little twinge of nausea. "It was true. They are."
"Don't worry about it. I've talked to Shane about them, you know."
The twinge turned into a full-blown knot in his stomach. "Oh God..."
"What?" She turned back around to face him.
"Tell me you didn't."
"I had to. Chris, they have no right to..."
"Stephanie, you don't understand..." CJ stumbled off the bed and over to her, kneeling before her as if to beg. "Shane's told me NOT to get you involved."
She was quiet for a second, looking thoughtful and a little worried, then she looked down at him. "Well I guess that's why he wants to see you."
Strike three. Our Hero stood, almost feeling the color leave his face.
"Chris...I'm sorry..."
He barely heard her. Stephanie watched him as he staggered over to the bathroom and almost fell upon the sink, trying to keep aim as he vomited everything inside.
Stephanie really didn't have the heart to tell CJ that she'd previously confronted Joanie about what she was doing and the lies she was spreading about Our Hero. That could wait. For now, this poor guy was suffering. The least she could do was hold his hair for him while he upchucked in the sink.
And thus our little nursemaid did so, pulling his hair out of his face while he moaned, rubbing his back when he went down for another hurl. It wasn't like Stephanie wasn't used to caring for a hangover victim. She had that Irish in her and she also had the last name 'McMahon'. Thus, Stephanie had spent many an early morning having to hide Shane from her parents after a night of his carousing. Therefore now she held her ground and stood out of the line of fire, having been here many times before.
"Done?" She patted his back after he'd come back up.
"Yeah." CJ couldn't thank this rather brave girl enough as he watched her rinse out the sink, then hold a wet washcloth to his face. This was the closest they'd been yet. Leave it to drunken binges and throw-up to bring people together.
"Do you have any idea where you left your key? You're going to need a shower and a change of clothes."
He certainly remembered that. He was an idiot enough to leave it in the car. But he wasn't about to tell Stephanie that. "I remember now."
"Good. I'll let you go get it then."
CJ paused a little and winced. "When..when does Shane want to see me? What did he tell you?"
Stephanie looked away a little and shrugged. "I don't know. I guess whenever he sees you." She patted his hand. "I'll back you up though. If you want me there when he gets to you I'll be there."
He managed a slight smile. "Thank you. For everything."
"I can't say you're welcome, since I don't want you thinking you can come stumble-drunk into my arms every time," she laughed, "but I want to help any way I can."
CJ nodded, then closed his eyes against another wave of pain flooding his head. "Before I go...you wouldn't happen to have some aspirin..?"
***********************************
CJ didn't really want to look at the mirror when he got back into his room {safely, for what it's worth}. He knew what he'd see but he surely didn't want to see it. But he looked anyway. And he didn't like what he saw. The cut above his eye was still fresh and very visible. His eyes were red and bleary. The long blonde hair was tousled and needed washing. He needed a shave. The bruises that he was adorned with the night before were still dark and pretty tender. Such a lovely sight.
Ah well. No matter how bad things looked on the outside, he felt much worse on the inside. His head was throbbing and his mind was racing a mile a minute. Per usual, he felt as if the world was out to get him. For the millionth time CJ wondered why he even bothered to continue with this company. Still, as Our Hero stripped down and slipped into the very soothing warm shower, he remembered why he was staying. At least one reason why, that is.
And that reason was Stephanie McMahon. Good God, had she been more than accomodating to him or what? Any other girl would have surely thrown him out on his ass had he shown up at their door in a drunken haze, but she put up with him. Maybe it was only because she felt sorry for him, but hell. At least she felt something. Plus, she reminded him of what it used to be like. How it felt to have a girlfriend. As CJ rested himself under the shower head, he remembered much more happier times back home in Florida. He remembered that cozy little home, the beach, the sun, the general satisfaction he'd felt. Now, however, as he stood here under a steady stream of warm water trying to nurse a hangover and other assorted pains, those days could have been a thousand years ago.
In the here and now, CJ was positioned right on the edge of what could be a very steep downward spiral. He had Shane McMahon out to rip him a new asshole, he knew that much. Not only that, but he had at least 4 very upset buddies that were problably going to get him before Shane even came near him. It was only a matter of time before someone got him. And for obvious reasons, CJ would have much more preferred at this moment that Joanie, Paul, and company got him before Shane did.
As CJ turned these thoughts around in his mind, he was startled by a knock on the door, hearing it faintly through the bathroom door. Ohhh shit, it was one of the two. Right when he needed them *least*.
But he was a trooper. He dragged himself out of the shower, threw a towel around himself, and went to the door to meet his fate. CJ girded himself up and prepared to answer the call of duty. He didn't necessarily WANT to, but this was a call he knew he needed to answer.
Whoosh. "Dude, how come you didn't answer any of our calls?" Adam Copeland brushed past him and made his way into the room. CJ closed his eyes and leaned against the wall. Deja vu all over again, really.
"Uhm.." He turned around to face Adam, who had his back to him, opening the curtains with gusto. Ohh God, no.
"No seriously, we were worried about you. You left the bar like, alone."
"Ummhmm." CJ covered his eyes. "I..."
"You were drunk off your ass, you don't have to tell me." Adam laughed and playfully punched at Our Hero, who wished he had something inside himself to vomit back up at his friend so he'd get the point. "But we called you here, we didn't know if you were coming to breakfast or not. I guess not, since we've eaten already."
The last thought on Chris' mind was food. "I'm not hungry."
"Sure you're not, because you're SHITFACED!" Adam jokingly screamed this in CJ's ear, who saw at least seven shades of red for about 10 seconds afterwards.
I'm going to kill him, he thought. I'm going to kill him. I'm going to kill him. I'm going to kill him, I'm going to kill him, I'm going to kill him, I'm going to...
"Oh yeah, did you hear about Shane?" Adam was all seriousness now. "Dude, he really wants to see you."
CJ finally spoke, albeit mighty weakly. "How come I'm always the last person to know?"
"Because you're too busy being tanked, maybe?" Adam grinned. CJ could have slapped the grin off his face and shoved it up his ass. "You still haven't answered my question, how come you didn't answer our calls?"
CJ gritted his teeth. "I wasn't here last night."
"Where were you?" Adam was genuinely curious, along with being naturally playful. "Did you fuck Joanie again?"
"No."
"Well then where were you?"
"In Stephanie's room."
Adam was quiet, as if looking for something to say, then came up with the very original "WHAT??" Here we go again.
"I didn't do what you think." CJ pushed past him and fell face forward on the bed.
"You don't HAVE to do what I think you did, dude! Just being there with her just to..I don't know, borrow a pillow is like taboo or something!"
"I've done worse."
"You've got a bad habit of fucking with the wrong girls!"
"I'm doing my time." CJ's voice was muffled but firm.
"Well yeah but you better hope Shane doesn't find out."
"I'm already in it with Shane. One more thing is just one more thing."
Adam shook his head and sat on the bed next to Chris. "Look, man. I'm your friend. I wouldn't tell you this if I didn't care. Don't get in over your head."
CJ had to laugh. "Right on time with that friendly advice."
"Well if you'd kept your pants on you wouldn't be in this to start with." Adam patted him on the back as if this little statement was a cure-all.
"Ummhmm."
"I'm just saying. Anyway, I'm gone. Call me when you want to go to the gym."
Adam left before Chris could tell him that he could take the gym and fuck it harder than he fucked Joanie Lee Laurer.
****************************
It was Our Hero's decision to lay low until later in the day when he'd have to drive an hour into the next town for the show. He remained in the room, recuperating in the dark, resting peacefully, enjoying a dreamless sleep. His head finally slowed its steady throb. The bruises became less tender as the day passed. He still hurt, but not as badly. CJ really needed this time for himself, but he also wanted to stay the hell away from Shane McMahon as long as he could. Eventually Chris knew he'd have to face up with him, but not if he could help it.
5:00 PM rolled around and CJ rolled out of bed, ignoring the slight pain his ribcage was giving him. Safe so far, Shane hadn't come looking for him. Hell, maybe he'd forgotten he needed to talk to Our Hero.
Heh. And maybe Hell has a need for a snowplow, CJ thought this to himself as he threw his gear together and left the peace of the dark little hotel room for much more murky waters.
The storm was already brewing on the ocean as CJ arrived at the parking lot. As he'd just put the key in the car door, his mouth dropped when he saw Shane not five feet away from him. What was worse, Shane saw *him*. Shane was looking right at him, as a matter of fact. As if he'd been waiting for him.
"Hey, just the man I wanted to see," Shane said, acting genuinely surprised and...yes, happy.
"Hey." CJ was a little less than thrilled, slightly looking to see if there was someplace to run. No such luck; Shane had Chris where he wanted him. And he was planning on using this position.
"Since you're here, let's ride together, huh?" Shane was almost instantly at the passenger side of the car, still smiling that disarming smile. CJ's hands were tied. As if he could say no?
"Sure." CJ unlocked Shane's side and felt as if he'd just signed his death certificate. The boy wonder slid in the car, followed by Chris gingerly sitting inside, then fumbling for the key. At length, they finally pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road. Confident that CJ was pretty much captive and not going anywhere for the next hour, Shane decided to spend the cozy little trip in deep conversation. After a few minutes, he turned towards Our Hero. The friendly buddy-buddy smile wasn't there anymore.
"So what the fuck's going on?"
CJ anticipated this. "I didn't know she would come to you about this."
"She did. And I told you I didn't want her doing anything like that, remember?" Shane continued to stare. CJ could feel the heat from the stare and tried not to crack under pressure.
"I remember." He tried to speak in a controlled tone even though he wanted to scream at the moment.
"So why did she go to Joanie?"
Chris almost swerved into the path of a semi coming their way. Mass confusion all over again. Try to find something to say. He opened his mouth and at first a sound didn't come out, and then more of a gasped "Huh??"
"Don't play dumb." Shane shook his head and chuckled. "Just don't do that. You know, I'm not the smartest guy in the world, but you can't shit a shitter, bud."
"Shane, I really did NOT know that she..."
"So what'd you say to Steph anyway? What was it? Did you get her all vulnerable and weepy? She's easy to control. I know that's what you did."
"I swear to you. Whatever she did, it was on her own.."
"You and I both know that's a crock of bullshit."
Maybe Shane was right. Maybe CJ pretty much *had* put Stephanie in a position to run and try to defend him. But he wasn't out to get her to do that. All he wanted was her to just be "on his side," really. He didn't mean for her to go and avenge all the wrongs that had been done. But she had.
"I honestly didn't think she would go to Joanie." His mind went a mile a minute. "She wasn't hurt, was she?"
"Yeah, like you give a damn." Shane chuckled again. "You know, they were right about you. You're a damn good actor."
"Surprising as it may be, Shane, I actually do give a damn about your sister." CJ was looking at Shane now, returning the hard stare. "If she lost her friendship with Joanie over me, I feel more than terrible about that. But I'm not gonna sit here and take your shit. You're making it sound like I played her against them."
"Oh, didn't you though?" Shane was unfazed. His voice was rising. "You may not have meant to do it, but you severed a damn fine relationship. And I don't give a shit if you're sorry. You weren't careful."
CJ couldn't respond to that. It was true, he *hadn't* been careful at all. He'd opened himself up to Stephanie, and in turn she did what any other caring soul would do, she tried to do the right thing. Poor Steph. He could only imagine what that bitch Joanie told her. For what seemed like the hundredth time, he was pissed enough at Joanie to kill...
"Slow down." Shane nodded towards the spedometer. CJ was way over the speed limit and didn't even notice.
"Sorry."
Shane continued his tirade. "I'm finding out that you just may be more trouble than you're worth."
So fire me,thought CJ, without really meaning it. He didn't want to leave. Not just yet, anyway.
"Do you think you're worth all the trouble you're giving me? I mean hell, my sister is coming to me with stuff that you should have handled on your own."
CJ was quiet for a moment, then spoke. "You went to her when you were in my place."
Shane grew quiet. Oh shit. Was that a mad quiet or a thinking quiet? CJ visualized the boy wonder getting pissed and flying out at him, causing them both to run into another car and causing their firey death. Actually that would have been better than sitting here next to a very quiet Shane McMahon after having said something that really should have remained unsaid.
Shane finally replied. "I'll tell you what." His voice was calm, so that was good. Hey, maybe Our Hero made a breakthrough. CJ didn't respond, only glancing over at Shane as if to ask "what?"
"I'm going to lay it down, and you don't have any choice but to go with this. Understood?"
"Yes."
"If you tell anyone I'm behind this, I'll say you're lying. Got it?"
"Yes."
"You're going to shootfight Levesque. Just you and him. You call him out to it. Soon. Very soon." Shane sighed then, wistfully, to himself. "God, the box office for this would be great. But no. We're not doing this in front of a crowd. We can't. It'll be somewhere, I don't know where. But you *will* do this."
CJ nodded. Was that all? Whew.
"That's not all," said Shane, as if reading his mind. "If you get the shit knocked out of you, or if in other words he beats you, you're gone." Shane let his words linger, then repeated them because he liked the sound of them. "If he beats you, you are gone."
"What if I win?" Chris felt the knots in his stomach return.
Shane smiled a little, this time genuinely. "You stay." He paused to think. "And you get two weeks off to heal up. You're gonna need it either way."