___________________________________________

Jeff did his best to compose Trish. Dear lord, she was shaking ever so slightly, not to mention, she appeared to be on the verge of tears. Something had definitely spooked her.

The young man grabbed hold of the blonde woman's hands, finding them eerily ice cold.

"Sweetheart, what is it? What happened?" He also wondered why on earth she'd been up and wandering around the hotel at this late hour.

Trish peered up into his green eyes sorrowfully, the traces of fear clear within her brown orbs.

"It's Heyman..." she said in a slightly shaky voice. "... He's the one!"

"The one *what*?" Jeff questioned frantically. What was she talking about? But if that slimy Paul Heyman had done something - *anything* - to hurt Trish, well then the man was going to have to answer to *him*.

"He... he cornered me in the stairwell," the little blonde revealed. "Jeff, that guy John who kidnapped and raped Amy... He was Paul Heyman's nephew!"

*

Adam sat up restlessly on the chair halfway across the room. He was still furious, his mind working overtime about the entire situation.

Thank God Amy was asleep. And, from the looks of it, she was *peacefully* asleep. He'd been so reluctant to leave the bed since he'd returned here, fearful she would awaken and cry out for him. What a horrible ordeal this had been - and still was.

The tall blond man himself was exhausted. His eyes felt all grainy and red, but when he tried to fall back asleep, it just wouldn't happen. He was far too wound up, too sick with worry over his fiancee. She truly did seem closer and closer to a mental breakdown - all at the hands of someone playing a sick game...

... But *who*? He honestly didn't know.

However, when - not *if*, because the Canadian knew without a shadow of a doubt that it was only a matter of time - he found out who was responsible, that person would pay dearly. He would make damn sure of that. *No one* would get away with fucking with the mind of the woman he loved.

The redhead suddenly stirred in the bed across the room, a soft moan escaping her as she shifted. Adam's heart thudded quickly in his chest, as though threatening to break free of its confines. He rose and stepped closer, gazing down at her with great concern. God, he loved her. And it killed him to see her so troubled and tormented. she didn't deserve it.

The rapid beat of his heart calmed somewhat as he realized she seemed to be okay. She was quickly settling again, and for that he was vastly relieved.

Adam made the last few steps of the way over to the bed, his heart in his eyes as he knelt down by the bedside and gazed at the woman who would soon become his wife.

She was so precious to him. He reached out tentatively with his right hand, wanting to touch the silky smoothness of her skin but afraid of waking her. Finally, he went ahead with it, the backs of his long fingers gently skimming her cheeks.

He found himself suddenly choked up... He couldn't help it when he thought of all she had endured.

All of a sudden, Adam heard a strange buzzing sound. He glanced around for a beat, disoriented as he wondered as to the source of the sound. And then, he realized it was his cell phone, which he had on vibrate with the ringer off. Hastily, he reached up for it, flipped it open and said hello as quietly as he could manage.

"Adam, it's Jeff... Trish and I need to speak to you right away..."