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"Yeah... I know," Matt said into his cell phone. He was intense as he spoke with the person on the other end, whom he had called. "I don't think they even remember the roses incident." He laughed sarcastically, rolling his eyes as though the individual with whom he was speaking could see the gesture. "Well, how about something a little more dramatic this time around?" Matt laughed again, no warmth behind it whatsoever. "Yeah, I agree... Something has to be done." He paused again as the person on the other end made a sudden suggestion.
"Yeah, that would be good. Why don't we meet up afterward?" he said. Another pause, and then, "Nah - don't worry about her. She's recovering from surgery on her broken leg." He laughed cruelly. "So it's not like she can *do* anything."
The phone conversation lasted another minute or so until Hardy hung up. He had some preparations, and an important event in Atlanta.
Matt turned around and returned inside his house as he flipped his cell phone to a close. As he made his way into the living room, he could hear Ashley, who'd been laying on the couch with her casted leg propped up, chatting on her own cell phone.
"Yeah, I know!" he heard her say, as she was unwittingly speaking the same three words he'd said into his phone moments earlier. "It's crazy! And I can't wait." She chased those words with a giggle, and then caught sight of Matt entering the room.
"Look, I've gotta go. But I'll talk to you soon, okay?" She laughed softly again as she listened to the person on the other end. "Okay... Bye." The blonde flipped her phone to a close and placed it on the small end table behind her head. She smiled as she eyed her boyfriend. "Hey... What's up?"
Hardy was full of suspicion.
"Who were you talking to?" he asked, his voice taking on a demanding tone.
"A friend," Ashley replied, her smile vanishing as her guard shot way up. She didn't like the look in Matt's eyes, or the inflection in his voice. Although she hadn't been with the WWE during the time when his ex-girlfriend, Amy Dumas, had been cheating on him with his then friend Adam Copeland, she of course knew the details - or at least those Matt had provided to her.
"A friend..." he repeated her, not wording it like a question. Hardy fixed his sharp, hard dark brown eyes on the young woman. Inside, Ashley shuddered at that look. He had definitely grown so cold and harsh over the course of the last couple of months. "... Yeah? Well, another girlfriend of mine was spending all her time injured talking to 'a friend' as well." He continued to glare at her, and Ashley flinched at his statement.
"Okay, first of all, I *was* talking to a friend," she retorted, her voice now angry. "Second, I *resent* your accusations, and I resent being compared to *anyone*! Especially your ex-girlfriend!"
"Is that so?" Matt asked, his eyes widening, upper lip arching in a smirk at the sheer amusement of her reaction.
"Yes, that's so!" the blonde shouted, now actually close to tears. She hated being so weak as to be reduced to crying so quickly and easily, but for some reason, she couldn't help it. "In case you haven't noticed, Matt - I'm not Amy!" Ashley spread her arms in an elaborate gesture inviting him to take a good, long look at her.
Matt's demeanor changed, shifting back and forth so fast that the blonde woman was actually afraid of him. He seemed so unstable, so unpredictable. It was as though she'd never really known him at all.
"I'm gonna ask you again," he said in a dangerously low voice, "and I want an answer... Who were you talking to?"
"Trish - it was *Trish*, okay?!" Ashley answered quickly. She only hoped it wasn't *too* quickly. But after the interrogation she'd just been subjected to, there was no way she was going to tell him she'd in reality been speaking with Carlito.
"Okay," Hardy said, nodding. He kept his gaze on her for a full minute or so before he turned and started for the bedroom.
Ashley bowed her head, trying her best not to exhale a sigh of relief that he'd seemed to buy it. It was ridiculous though - she and Charlie were *friends*. She had every right to talk to him - or any guy friend, for that matter, if she so chose. If she didn't have the damned broken leg, she would have gotten up, gathered her stuff and stormed out of here. She hated this! She wished she could call Carlito back and tell him what had happened. Maybe, if she did that, he would swing by and take her out of here - but should she *dare* do that after the way Matt had just acted?
As these thoughts flitted through her head, the dark-haired man suddenly appeared again. Lucas chased at his heels, but he ignored the dog. Ashley was surprised he was carrying a suitcase.
"Look, I've gotta go. I'm getting a head start to the SmackDown taping. Just stay here as long as you want."
The blonde arched a brow in surprise - not at all *unpleasant*, at that. Yet at the same time, she was suspicious. He'd said nothing before now about leaving early. She decided not to question.
"Okay... I'll see you in a few days, then."
"Yeah," Matt muttered. He gave her a quick, cursory kiss on the lips, still thoroughly ignoring Lucas, and left.
Ashley decided to wait a few minutes before making her phone call.
*
*Six Hours Later*
Amy felt giddy as they strode together down the street in the night. It had been the first of three days off, and Adam had come back to Atlanta with her after the previous night's RAW.
They were heading back to her condo after an evening excursion at a nearby club. There had been good music with a local rock band playing, as well as a bit of alcohol and a little dinner.
"I feel like I can stay up all night!" the redhead practically sang as she nearly danced in front of her boyfriend on the sidewalk. She was definitely feeling buzzed as she took his hand that he reached out to her with, an amused smile on his face. Adam wasn't much of a drinker by any means, and Amy had definitely outdone him in that department. However, he didn't think she was quite so drunk as she was tipsy. In any case, he found her adorable - but when *didn't* he?
"I've got news for you, baby," he said, twirling her around like he often did during their entrance in the WWE. "You probably *will* be staying up all night!" He wiggled his eyebrows provocatively, and she let out melodious, girlish laughter.
"Oh, yes," she said in a low, husky tone, "'cause you're going to get lucky tonight... Again and again and again." She bit her lip, then parted them, her soft pink tongue just poking out, the gesture offering many promises to the blond man.
Adam grinned. They were there, the redhead going directly to her door, her keys already dug out of her small purse. The tall blond man stepped directly up behind her, his hands firm as they went to her waist. He was already excited, as was she, but they were hardly prepared for what they were about to see inside.
"Oh, my God!" The words escaped Amy as she stared in shock at her once lovely living room.
A deep frown came to Adam's face as well as they surveyed the damage... The place had been vandalized. Furniture had been ripped and broken, plants destroyed, books, magazines and other papers scattered and torn and everywhere.
"Fuck - we'd better check the rest of the house," Adam said. He made a dash for the redhead's bedroom as she followed close behind in shock. It was much the same in there.
Amy was practically speechless. Who the hell had done this?
The blond man raged and muttered curses as he surveyed his girlfriend's formerly beautiful home. She'd put so much work into the place, and it sickened him that it had all been trashed, wrecked and trampled like this.
He made a quick dash for the bathroom and nearly growled at what he saw...
... Amy followed him and gasped.
The vanity mirror over the sink had been cracked in a puddle-like design, but that wasn't the worst of it. In a red shade of lipstick, the vandal had scrawled "whore" in capital letters on the mirror. And over on one wall, in similar fashion, was the word, "bitch." Clearly, the culprit was someone who knew her, and *hated* her. And there was only one person Amy could think to be responsible.
"That's it!" Adam shouted, his green eyes wide, handsome face red with anger. He reached both hands up to his head, tearing at his hair. "That bitch is gonna pay for this!"
The redhead was silent as she eyed him balefully. Sure enough, he was thinking of the same person she was as being guilty - Lisa.
"I'm calling the police," the Canadian snarled as he stalked out of the bathroom and back to the bedroom. "Amy, pack some clothes and stuff - you're coming home with me."
She remained silent as she nodded at him. She had no problem with his statement as she sure as hell wasn't going to spend the night here now!
As her boyfriend picked up the phone and dialed, she only hoped her clothing hadn't suffered the same fate as her house.