Chapter 3
I hurried into the arena, glancing at my watch and cursing under my breath.
My flight had been delayed for weather concerns, and that had caused me to be 4
hours later than I had planned. It was all wrong; I had wanted to get to
the arena early so I could have plenty of time to talk to Paul before the show.
Now I didn't know if I'd get to talk to him at all until RAW was over. Thank
God I'm still on the list, I thought, or I might not have even gotten in.
The security guard in the parking lot had
told me how to get to the locker rooms, so I rushed in that direction. The
show had already started and I wasn't sure when Paul was slotted to be on.
Hopefully I could catch him when he had time to talk. Hopefully he'll
listen to me, I thought, but pushed that out of my head. I had to
think positively. My sanity depended on it.
Suddenly, I came to a fork in the hallway.
"Dammit!" I muttered. I had been so scared and upset when I was
talking to the security guard that I hadn't heard him mention a split in the
corridor. I looked down both directions, but they looked basically
identical. How do I figure this out fast? I asked myself with
a sigh.
Just then I realized one of the doors
nearby had a small sign that read "Dressing Room". I knew it had
to be one of the private rooms, but I figured whoever was in it could tell me
which way to go. I knocked politely, preparing myself to have to apologize
to a McMahon. But nothing could have prepared me for who opened the door.
I felt my face go deathly pale and I tried to scream, but my voice refused to
work. I had been so intent on talking to Paul that I had forgotten about
Dwayne. And there he was, three feet from me, and grinning that sickening
grin. I turned to bolt in any direction, but I never got the chance.
Dwayne grabbed my arm, sending pain shooting up it.
"Well, well, well," he said
slowly, a sarcastic tone of surprise in his voice, "look who's paying me a
visit. Miss me, Gabby?" When he raised that eyebrow, I wanted
to rip it off his face, skin and all.
"Let me go, you bastard!" I
screamed, tears already flooding my eyes. I struggled and tried to pry his
hand off of me, but it was like being squeezed in a vise.
He chuckled darkly as he replied, "Let
you go? Oh, I don't think so. Your little boyfriend saw fit to
threaten me today. He needs to learn a bit of a lesson, Gabby, and you're
going to be it." With that, he started to drag me into his room.
I screamed at him, at anyone, as I clawed at the doorway to no avail. He
pulled me in and my shouts were unheard as he locked the door. Or so I
thought.
Trish Stratus was fuming. She had
been getting threatening messages on her cell from Dwayne all day and she
couldn't take it anymore. She was headed to his dressing room to tell him
to knock it off and leave her alone. Prick can't take no for an answer,
she grumbled inwardly. As if I wasn't having enough trouble
worrying about Paul.
As she neared his dressing room, something
sounded wrong. Trish slowed to a tiptoe and peeked around the corner,
half-hidden by equipment chests. Her eyes widened as she saw Dwayne
arguing with Gabrielle. What the HELL is she doing here? Trish
thought. She didn't know what to do, whether she should go and try to help
her or not. When she saw the obvious pain Gabrielle was in from Dwayne's
death-grip, Trish knew she wouldn't be able to do anything on her own. The
bastard would kill me, she thought.
She watched, torn completely, until she saw
Gab shriek as Dwayne yanked her in and slammed the door. Then quick as a
flash of lightning, she ran straight for Paul.
The last strains of "Time To Play The
Game" faded as Paul walked off the stage. He had just delivered one
hell of a monologue, calling out Jericho for the next Pay Per View. If he
had been in a better mood, he would have enjoyed watching Chris film his
response. As it was, he just wanted to go back to the locker room and get
ready to film a couple vignettes with Stephanie before changing and going back
to the hotel.
But just as he walked through the curtain,
Paul felt a small hand grab his wrist and turn him around. "Dammit,
Paul, I've been looking for you everywhere!" Trish yelled
frantically.
Paul narrowed his eyes and pulled his arm
from her grasp. "Get the fuck away from me, Trish," he said,
"I told you not to co-"
"Paul, just shut up. For once,
YOU shut up!!" she screamed, and he looked at her in shock. She had
never talked to him like that, and he knew something was wrong.
"What the hell is going on?" he
asked, incredulous.
"It's Gabrielle, she's here, I don't
know why or how, but she's here, and Dwayne has her in his room!!!"
Her words were gushing out almost too fast to follow, but Paul understood way
too clearly.
"WHAT?!?" he roared, already
moving away from the curtain and towards the dressing rooms. "You're
sure??"
"I saw it myself," Trish said as
she ran to keep up with him, "He had her arm and wouldn't let her go, and
she was screaming, but I couldn't do anything, he'd fucking kill me, I'm no
match for him!! Then he pulled her into his room and shut the door!
Paul, he's liable to do anything to her now that he knows the game is up.
You have to help her!!" The sound of tears was obvious in her
strained voice.
Paul started down the hallway, about to
break into a run when he stopped and looked intently at Trish.
"Trish… Thank you."
"Don't thank me, just GO!!" she
yelled.
He turned and ran at full speed, not saying
another word. He knew what he would have to do.
back to Chapter 2
