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The man was utterly silent as he stood just outside the hotel room door. His curiosity had gotten the better of him as he'd witnessed the blonde so overworked and distraught as she'd run here.
Randy Orton's brow furrowed as he edged closer to Lita and Edge's hotel room door. He could barely hear them, but the distinctive sound of Trish Stratus' voice came to his ears, and she sounded frantic. What in hell's name was going on?
The self-proclaimed Legend Killer wasn't quite sure he even wanted to guess as to the answer to that. However, one thing was for sure, and he knew it with absolute startling clarity - he would make certain to find out.
His features going neutral, the young man walked away. He had important business to attend to at the moment.
*
"Oh, my God... Oh, my God," Trish cried in a mantra. She was still gathered on the chair, rocking back and forth a bit. Her teeth were also beginning to chatter.
"Trish, what happened?" Lita inquired as she knelt before her. She gently rubbed her friend's arm, concern pouring through her. "Please tell me." She exchanged glances with Edge, who also looked concerned and confused at the same time.
"She's cracking up," the tall blond man assessed. His remark only earned him a smack on the thigh from his girlfriend.
"He drugged me!" the blonde exclaimed. Her eyes went wide, then alternately narrowed as the horrifying knowledge gripped her. She could see it all so much more clearly now.
"What?" Edge boomed, his face filling with sudden rage. He stooped down to the diva's level, making direct eye contact with her. "Who, Trish, who? Who drugged you?!" he demanded. He would go after the culprit, no matter who they were, and beat the living hell out of them!
She shook her head, tears leaking from her brown eyes as she squeezed them tightly shut. She could see herself clear as day, straddling the man as they had mad, passionate sex... The video camera... There was a video camera. But she couldn't see his face.
"He... He took advantage of me!" she wailed.
Lita looked helpless as she shifted her hazel gaze from Trish to Edge. She was completely lost. She wanted to help her friend, wanted to help her in the worst way, and in any way possible.
"Who, Trish? Who did?"
The little blonde's shoulders shook as her body became wracked with sobs. She bowed her head, lowering it onto her updrawn knees, hugging herself tightly in her position, as though for dear life.
"He raped me... and videotaped it!" she moaned.
Edge's green eyes widened in a combination of shocked horror and fury. By now, his hands were clenched so tightly, if his nails were any longer, he would have been drawing blood from his palms.
"I know who did it," he snarled. The way he saw it, there could be only one culprit, and one culprit only...
... Chris Jericho. The cocky blond man had bragged on live national television mere weeks earlier that he was going to videotape himself and Trish having sex when he made good on the little bet he and Christian had had going.
"I'm gonna kill him." The sentence was spoken in the softed yet most deadly tone of voice, and he stalked toward the door. However, Edge was stopped by the voice of Lita, who questioned him as to the identity of the guy he suspected. He told her in an instant, and her eyes widened, while Trish, meanwhile, didn't react in any different way and continued crying.
The redhead jumped up and chased after him before he could slip out the door.
"Edge, wait!" Lita cried, grabbing hold of his arm.
He turned back, toward her and saw begging written in her hazel orbs. She shook her head, and it seemed there was still a hint of confusion on her face.
"We don't know that it was Chris," she reasoned. "Trish hasn't given us a name." She stared at him pleadingly, tugging on him to go back to their friend's side. He complied.
Slowly, the redhead faced the blonde again. She reached out tentatively, touching Trish's knee and patting it. Grateful the Canadian woman didn't recoil at her touch, she issued the question that needed answering.
"Trish... Was Chris Jericho the one who... did this to you?"
The blonde raised her head to stare into her friend's eyes, her face streaked with tears. She shook her head, her lower lip quivering.
"I... I don't know."
Lita and Edge exchanged glances again. It seemed a foreign concept to both of them that Trish would respond in that way.
"Trish?" the redhead began, patting her knee again, ever so gently. She leaned in a big closer to her. "Was it Christian who attacked you?"
Trish began to sob a bit more loudly, and her shoulders shook like crazy. She cried so hard, and her nose was beginning to run. She tried to meet Lita's eyes as she raised a hand, wiping at her nose with the back of it. She tried desperately to find her voice again but couldn't manage it. So, she said nothing.
But her demeanor was enough to convince Edge. Without a word, the tall Canadian turned and rushed to the door,
letting himself out of the hotel room. He had a so-called brother to decimate.