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Adam gritted his teeth, his good hand clenching instintively as he walked. Inside of him, a rage had been building up ever since he'd left the hospital.
He had to know. He *had* to. His brisk, even pace was deliberate as he approached the auto body shop. He could feel a snarl building up inside of him, and only when he was inside the place, springing to grab the man did he release it.
"You son of a bitch! You knew, didn't you? You *knew*!"
"Wha...? Ah-" Shawn Michaels could hardly breathe as he stared up at Adam, the bigger, taller man looking furious enough to kill him as his large hand clutched him by the throat. His windpipe was steadily being deprived of precious oxygen.
"Don't lie to me, Michaels!" the enraged blond man shouted. His green eyes were wide and wild. "You knew her car was gonna explode, didn't you?"
Shawn began to instantly, frantically shake his head, as he could barely get out the simple word of 'no.' His blue eyes widened, and the younger man wasn't sure it was due to his air supply being cut off or shock over such an accusation. Maybe it was a combination of both.
"No!" he managed to just croak out. "P-Please, Adam... Let me go!"
The taller man reluctantly did so, and Michaels instantly began to cough and sputter, blessed air finally entering his lungs again.
At that moment, another man suddenly ran over.
"You okay, boss?" he asked, his eyes taking in the scene, eyeing Adam suspiciously.
The tall blond man recognized the employee as Johnny Nitro. The young man had only started working for Michaels a couple of weeks earlier and would definitely be no match for him if he started something... Not that Adam was looking for a fight; he only wanted answers... And if Shawn was lying, then he would do something.
"Yeah," the older man replied. "It's fine, Johnny... Get back to work." He waved the young man back with a gesture of his left hand.
Nitro nodded as he backed off but kept his gaze on Adam. And once he was out of earshot, the tall blond man turned back to Michaels, his stance menacing.
"You're going to tell me the truth, and *now*. Amy Dumas' car blew up this morning. And you had nothing to do with that?"
"No," Shawn sputtered. "I mean, I probably *did* have something to do with it... But I swear," he went on, raising both hands before him in a defensive manner, "I didn't intend for that to happen. I tried to fix her car, nothing more. I *swear* it."
Adam stared at the older man, unmoved by both his words and gesture. As gingerly as he could manage due to his injured hand, he crossed his arms over his chest.
"The police told Amy they found explosive materials under the hood of her car. How in hell do you explain that, Shawn?" He asked the question in a surprisingly calm tone of voice. So calm, in fact, that it gave Michaels the chills.
"My God... I..." Shawn shook his head, which was practically spinning by now. This was all simply insane! "I can't," he said. "I swear, Adam - I had absolutely nothing to do with that. All I did was tinker with the engine with some tools I had on me and that was it. You saw me when I came into the diner this morning."
The blond man blinked as the memory of that morning came back to him. Michaels was right. He'd been wearing a toolbelt with a few small tools on it, but there was definitely no room for anything like explosives. For that, he probably would have needed at least a duffel bag. He exhaled deeply, filled with regret for how he had approached the man.
"Shit." He ran his good hand through his shoulder-length blond hair, suddenly barely able to look the other man in the eyes. "Shawn, I'm really sorry."
Michaels' breathing was by now fully back to normal. He nodded.
"It's okay, Adam."
"No, I... Jeez, I thought you-" He cut off his speech, changing directions. "I hope we're still friends. I just got this vision of her getting in the car and-"
"I know," Shawn said gently, "it's okay, Adam. We're still friends."
"Damn it!" the taller man spat. He was still angry, but with himself now. "Why didn't a vision of the person responsible come to me?" He was speaking openly about his visions because Shawn knew all about them. Ever since he'd had the one about the kids in the school bus nearly two years earlier, he'd known. Adam had been at the garage for work on his car when that one had hit. Michaels had been there to witness it and hadn't bought the flimsy excuse he'd given of having an epileptic seizure. Due to that, the blond man had confessed the truth.
"Who did it, then?" he asked, more to himself than to Shawn. His gaze cast down at the floor as he was tortured by the thought. "Who the hell did it?"
"I don't know," Michaels replied. "But I *do* know that one way or another, you're going to find out."
Adam raised his head to meet his friend's eyes. He nodded, knowing Shawn was right. He *would* get to the
bottom of this mystery.