A Rose Without a Thorn


Amy Dumas finally felt her heartbeat slowing to a more steady pace, her breathing returning to normal.

She crept closer to the locked bathroom door, listening for any sounds.  It had been silent in the hotel room for at least the last hour or so.  Before that, he'd kept yelling at her, issuing cruel threats which she knew he'd try to turn into promises.  And then he'd finally given up, telling her to rot in here.  Then, after a couple more obscenties hurled her way, he'd stormed out of the room, slamming the door loudly behind him.

Amy swallowed hard, a cold knot of fear in her belly as she fiddled with the lock on the door.  Then, holding her breath, she turned the knob, her eyes closing as she pushed the door open slowly.

The redhead's eyes snapped open as she realized the room was enveloped in complete darkness.  He'd shut the light off when he'd left.

Oh, God... What if he was here, hiding out in wait for her?  What if he was crouched behind the bed, where she couldn't see him, waiting to pounce on her?

Oh, my God... She had to get out of here.  She felt like an animal trapped in a cage.

She stepped out of the bathroom in a hurry, crying out as she felt the myriad of aches and pains from the abuse he'd dished out to her earlier.  The worst of them was when the gash in her side pulled painfully.  There hadn't been any salve or anything in the lavatory that she could have used, so she'd merely cleaned the wound with a wet washcloth and soap.  Amazingly, despite the size of the bruise, she'd gotten it to stop bleeding pretty quickly.

She didn't bother with the lights, as her only intention was getting the hell out of there in a hurry.  By now, it was obvious he wasn't here.

The redhead gritted her teeth as she blindly felt around on the floor near the bed for her bag.  She was glad it was zippered, and she let out a gasp of pain as she lifted the valise, putting the strap up on her shoulder.

Amy counted her lucky stars that, somehow, the lashing belt hadn't made contact with either one of her shoulders - hence the reason she was pretty much all right to carry her bag.

She walked briskly over to the door, feeling her way around in the darkness.  Although she knew she was leaving behind a few of her garments and other stuff like toiletries, she didn't care - all she wanted to do was get the hell out of this room.  She dreaded him coming back to find her making an escape.  If that happened, he would make her hurt ten times worse than he already had.

Stepping out into the hallway, the diva glanced around furtively, cautiously making certain that he didn't just so happen to be lurking around.  He was nowhere in sight, not that she could see, at least.  She guessed he was probably out at some bar somewhere.

Amy made a near-mad dash down the hallway, wanting to get as far from her own hotel room as possible.  She stopped at a door, realizing this was a room that one of her friends was staying in, and she knew it contained two beds.  She didn't have to think long about what she was going to do...

The redhead raised a hand to knock, rapping firmly on the door five times with her knuckles.  Come on...Please answer, please be awake! she thought.

Within a minute or so, she heard the lock being turned on the other side of the door, and her heart nearly stopped with relief as it suddenly opened.

"Hey!  Amy, what are you doing out here so late?" Stacy Keibler asked as she gazed out at her.  Her smile faded as she took note of the worry etched on the other woman's face, the bag she clutched over one shoulder.  Without asking any questions, she reached out and put an arm around her other shoulder, quickly ushering the redhead inside her room, closing and locking the door behind her.

Neither woman noticed the man watching them, concern crossing his handsome features as he neared his own hotel room from just a few feet down the hallway.











Part 3

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