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Trish Stratus blinked as she suddenly awoke, the blanket tangled between her and her sleeping boyfriend, who lay beside her.
The little blonde groaned a bit as she sat up in the hotel bed.
"Rock...Wake up, honey..." she said softly. She placed one small hand on his chisled bare chest, shaking him in an attempt to rouse him.
The Rock slowly opened his eyes, a soft smile crossing his handsome features as he stared up into her face.
"Mmm...Trish...baby, what's up? You want some strudel?"
The petite blonde smiled at her boyfriend, enjoying his friskiness - and his silly usage of the name of a pastry to refer to a particular bodily organ of his.
"Maybe later...I just...Well, there's something on my mind..." She sat up, back against the pillows at the headboard.
What is it, baby?" Rock asked, one brow arched. He propped himself on one elbow, reaching one hand over to caress her arm.
"I'm worried about Lita..." the blonde woman confessed in a single breath. She turned her head to meet his gaze.
"Ah..."
"She's just seemed so unhappy lately. I think Christian may be..." Trish allowed her speech to trail off.
"Trish, what do you think he's doing?" The Rock questioned, his expression turning serious. "If that candyass-"
"I'm not sure," the diva admitted, interrupting him. "I mean, she's never actually told me he's been abusing her, but..." She gestured almost helplessly with both hands, the expression on her face looking helpless.
"But your instincts tell you otherwise..."
Trish turned to fully face her boyfriend, and, almost reluctantly, she nodded.
"I just get the feeling-"
Just then, a knock sounded on the door. The rapping was almost weak, feeble, and had an ominous feel to it.
"Trish..."
The little blonde and the muscular man exchanged glances, surprised. The person who'd just spoken the Canadian diva's name from just outside the door was none other than Lita... The voice was unmistakenly hers...
"Oh, God..." Trish practically bolted up out of the bed, not caring that she was dressed only in a pair of panties and a tank top - or that Rock was clad only in a pair of boxers. And as she ran for the door, he picked up the pair of blue jeans he'd left on the back of the desk chair the night before, then slipped into them.
Trish unlocked the door, then yanked it open, her brown eyes going wide as she took in her best friend's appearance.
Lita's otherwise pretty face was streaked with tears, and the blonde noticed a darkening bruise on her jaw - it looked like it was swelling as well.
"Oh, my God..." She quickly ushered the redhead into the room. "He hit you...the bastard actually hit you!"
The Rock slowly approached the two women, a look of concern on his face as he surveyed the damage that had been done to his girlfriend's best friend. It made him want to find the little piece of shit and beat him senseless.
"Get her into the bathroom, Trish..." he instructed, pointing with his right hand. "Clean her up..."
"Right..." Trish said, her worried gaze, traveling from The Rock and back to Lita...