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Adam exchanged glances with Amy, noting that his wife looked just as concerned as *he* felt.
Both their gazes returned to the nearby window, where Jay was standing. The short-haired blond man was staring out into the night, dread continuously coursing through him as he wondered where Nora could be. Things couldn't be any worse, it seemed.
"Jay," Amy said softly, knowing her next words would be hard for him to swallow, "you really should get some rest."
"'Rest?!'" he said, his tone increasing as he turned sharply around to eye the redhead angrily. "And how do you suppose I do *that*, Amy? Huh? How am I supposed to do that while my wife is out there, held captive by some fucking maniac? How am I supposed to do that when I don't know if the bastard has raped her again, or if she's-"
"Enough..." Adam interjected, standing up from the hotel bed. "That's enough!" His green eyes darted toward his wife. Damn it, Jay didn't have to be so harsh with Amy. But somehow, the redhead appeared to be taking it all in stride. She was the epitome of a pillar of strength... That was his angel, all right.
"Look, Jay," he went on, making his voice softer, "I know how you feel. And we're all worried about Nora. But taking your anger out on Amy isn't the answer... And it's not going to sit well with me."
His best friend looked over to meet his eyes, a glum expression on his face. Still, he knew the taller man was right. He sighed.
"I know... You're right. I'm sorry, Amy," he said, looking past Adam and at the redhead. "I didn't mean to snap at you."
"I know," she replied evenly. "It's okay." She shifted her gaze from Jay to her husband, one of Adam's strong, large yet gentle, hands coming to rest on her shoulder. The truth was, she was terrified for Nora. And as she sat there appearing so composed, inside she was trembling and uncertain. After all, she knew what Paul Levesque was all about. The madman had already gotten to Nora and Torrie three years earlier and had seemed proud of himself for having victimized those two women. She knew that he'd been damn close to getting Stephanie but had failed due thanks to the brunette's boyfriend, Kurt. However, Levesque, being the calculating son of a bitch that he was, had been planning on grabbing both Stephanie and herself, as they were the two he hadn't gotten the opportunity to rape - unlike Nora and Torrie.
"You really *should* try and get some rest," Adam told Jay, the tall blond man's beloved voice penetrating her dark thoughts. She wanted to get back to her own hotel room, wanted Adam to hold her securely in his arms and make her feel safe - promise her he'd never let anything horrible happen to her. Lately, she felt he was the stronger of the two of them, when, in the past, she knew that had been *her* role.
"Yeah," Jay agreed, nodding his head. He wore a somber look on his face. "You're right. I should at least *try* to get some rest."
Adam nodded, clapping a hand to his best friend's back. He reached his other down to Amy, and the redhead rose from the edge of the bed and took hold of it.
"We'll be right next door if you need us - you know that."
The shorter man nodded.
"Okay... Come on, angel."
Wordlessly, the redhead went along with her husband, issuing a silent goodnight to their friend. She clung tightly to his warm hand, desperate to draw strength from him.
Once they were in their own hotel room, she was still reluctant to let go of his hand. Adam eyed her worriedly as he led her to the bed - and that was when the redhead's shaking began.
"Angel?" he said softly. His wife looked about two seconds from completely losing it.
"He's gonna come for me, too," the redhead wailed. The tears finally broke free, scalding in their hot trails. She shook her head frantically. "He's gonna rape me - and I'd rather die than-"
Adam silenced her by pulling Amy flush against him, his fingers burrowing in her long hair. He stroked her tenderly, lovingly.
"It's not gonna happen," he promised. "Shh..." He kissed the top of her head. "I'd sooner kill him with my bare hands than let that happen." He stroked her soft, long red hair, his long fingers gentle.
Amy clung onto her husband as though for dear life, her face buried into his chest. She took solace in his words and in the affection he poured onto her with his hands and lips.
Adam kissed the redhead's tears away, his lips slowly seeking hers. As they kissed, he
held her tightly, mentally acknowledging that he meant every single word he'd just said to her.
He *would* kill Paul Levesque if he got to Amy and hurt her in any way.