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*Later That Week*
Adam raked a hand through his hair, practically tearing at it. In fact, it took just about every shred of his willpower not to do that.
His mind was consumed by the events from earlier in the week. He could hardly believe it. His ex-wife had threatened him. She had actually threatened to *blackmail* him! The nerve of that bitch!
The blond man knew he had gotten control of the situation. Torrie wouldn't do or say anything... She couldn't *possibly* - not when she had looked so thoroughly cowed when he'd thrown her out of the house that day...
... But then, if that were truly the case, why was he feeling so unsettled?
Sighing, he rose from where he'd been seated in catering. Somehow, he had to go find her, talk with her as soon as humanly possible.
Adam made his way down the arena hallway warily, and his gaze suddenly swept over ajar locker room doors as he walked... Trish... He needed to speak to her. She would help himout - he knew she would.
He made his way to the women's locker room, actually dreading it if Amy happened to be there. No one else but Trish knew about the two of them, but the divas tended to be damn perceptive. He guessed it was probably women's intuition, but regardless of that, one look at his and Amy's faces, should their gazes meet, would tell it all.
As it was, he didn't have to worry about any of that. After the locker room door was opened when he knocked, he discovered the redhead wasn't even there. Trish just so happened to be the one to answer his knock.
"Oh, hi, Adam... What can I do for you?" she said.
"Actually," he said softly, "I need to talk to you... It's important," he stressed.
The little blonde nodded.
"Okay... Give me just a minute and I'll be right out."
"Okay."
The door closed, and Adam stood there in the hall, trying his best to appear composed and calm. He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest as he waited for his friend, eyeing other people as they passed by.
Finally, after what seemed like at least twenty minutes but in reality took about two, the door to the women's locker room opened again and Trish emerged.
"What's up, Adam?" the blonde asked. She grew concerned as she caught the expression on his face.
"Not here," he muttered.
They continued down the hallway to his locker room. Once inside, the blonde diva sat down and eyed her friend with anticipation.
Adam shut the door and sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair as he sat as well. Then, looking up and facing her, he began.
"I'm in trouble... That is, Amy and I are in trouble."
Trish arched an eyebrow. That statement could be interpreted in a myriad of ways.
"What kind of 'trouble?'" she asked.
"Torrie knows about us," the tall Canadian blurted. "I don't know how she found out, but she knows, and... Well, she showed up on my doorstep last week." He noted Trish's eyes widen at his words. "She was trying to blackmail me," he went on. "Threatened to tell Jay."
"Oh, God. Adam, I'm-" Trish cut off her own speech, not exactly knowing what to say. It was such a sticky situation, and three of her close friends were involved. "Do you really think she'll tell him?"
"I don't know," the tall blond man admitted. "She was yapping about what she could get for the information, but I threw her out. I don't know if she would still tell or not... I told her if she did, I would make her wish she was never born."
The blonde woman sat silently, her heart going out to her friend.
"Would you do me a favor?" Adam asked, reaching out and placing a hand on her shoulder. "Please tell Amy I need to speak to her in private."
Trish bit down on her lower lip, figuring that the blond man didn't want to risk his best friend's suspicion in going to Amy's and his locker room on his own. Although Jay knew they were friends, he would probably wonder why his best friend would request to speak with *his* wife privately.
"Okay," she reponded. "I will."