Chapter Seven
MONDAY NIGHT RAW
Molly walked into the arena, dragging her little suitcase behind her. It had been 3 days since her visit to Dawn and she still was not feeling any better. She tiredly sighed, sleep and pain overcoming her body. Her eyes were weary and her arms felt limp. But she refused to give in and collapse. She was too strong to let them get the best of her, and she would be damned if would before she dropped dead.
"Baby, give me the bag," Chris soothed from the back of her. Molly didn't listen, she just kept walking. Chris frowned and grabbed her by her shoulders. "Honey, give me the bag," he pleaded. Molly opened her mouth to protest, but refused to exert that much energy and just dropped the bag on the floor. "There," she plainly said and walked away from him, heading to her dressing room. Chris looked confused for a moment. Molly had never made such a rude comment before and just dropped something and walk away.
Figuring she was still upset by Dawn, he just dropped it and picked up the bag, following his wife back to the dressing room. When he reached the dressing room, Molly was slowly pacing around, holding something in her hand. He placed their bags neatly on the floor and took a seat on the big black sofa. He yawned, stretching his arms and passing his hand through his long blond hair.
"You and Kurt have a match against Big Show and Brock in the main event," she mumbled. Chris merely nodded, knowing Kurt probably marched in Bischoff's and demanded a match against the 2 assholes. "Good," Chris merely mumbled. "Any specifications?" he asked, knowing that Paul probably had it done. "No holds barred," she added. Chris sighed and nodded, knowing all too well that a normal match was too good to be true.
"What about you?" he asked, hoping that she didn't have a match. Molly continued to look at the shedule for her name, taking a seat on Chris' lap in the process. "Let me see," she said, hoping that she really didn't have a match. "Hm, Victoria has a match against Jazz," she stated. A little glimmer of hope springed in her mind. Vince usually only had one female match a night, the chance was not likely that there were going to be two. Chris was probably thinking the same, as a small smile crossed his face. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer and kissing her left arm softly. But her hope was soon crushed when she read her name on a match.
MOLLY HOLLY VS LITA, STEEL CAGE MATCH.
"What the fuck?" Molly screamed. Chris grabbed the paper from her and his eyes widened when he read what had made her upset. "A steel cage?" he asked in amazement. Molly frowned, her head bowing down. A steel cage, women don't compete in steel cages, hell they hardly even had hardcore matches. And now she had to face Lita in a steel cage. There would be blood, pain and a whole lot of fury. Molly was scared to death, but not for herself.
At this point she could care less about what would happen to her. She was afraid for Lita. Sure, they weren't that close as her and Dawn, but they were friends. And after what happened to Victoria and Dawn, Molly could only imagine what they would do Lita. Surely Lita was not going to walk away unharmed, Molly knew that for sure.
"Honey, its ok," he shushed, trying to think. Molly didn't say anything, she just bowed her head down. She knew she had to go through this. Paul probably went to Bisschof, and surely Eric would enjoy seeing Lita covered with blood and writhing in pain. But could you really blame the man? He and Lita were together for 3 years, and out of the blue she empties his bank account and goes off mating with Goldberg. Eric felt bad for Goldberg, knowing Lita would probably do the same to him.
She tiredly sighed, leaning to the side to rest her head on Chris' shoulder. She needed to be comforted and needed to feel the love from her husband. Chris was probably the only person that was keeping her sane at that point. "I don't like this," Chris muttered through clenched teeth. Molly closed her eyes, knowing that Chris was furious about the fact that he knew Heyman had something to do with this. She placed her hand on his heart and sighed, leaning further into him.
"Don't worry honey, I'll fix it," he assured her, stroking her hair softly and kissed her forehead. Molly seemed confused and pulled away from him, looking deep in his eyes. "What do you mean?" she asked. Chris smiled and hooked her chin, kissing her lips softly. "I'm going to Eric and make him call off the match," Chris simply stated. He pushed Molly off of him and headed to the door. Molly jumped up, her mouth agape.
"What did you say?" she asked. Chris turned to her, a smile on his face. "You heard me, I am going to make Bischoff call off the match," he stated. Molly gasped. "Why would you do that?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. Chris looked confused by her reaction. "Honey, you cant even wrestle in a normal match like this," he said. Molly scoffed, suddenly feeling angry. "Like what?" she asked, sounding very pissed off.
Chris slightly chuckled. "Baby, you are in no state to actually wrestle," he said. Molly snorted, and then licked her lips. "Listen here, I do not need you to look after me. If I have a match then I will wrestle it," she yelled. Chris was slightly taken back by her reaction. "Molly, you are upset," he calmly stated. "I am not!" she yelled, stomping her foot on the floor. Chris took a deep breath and took a step towards her.
"Baby, you are flushed, tired and worn out. Emotionally you are wrecked and I am only looking out for your best interest," he calmly said. He took another step forward and took Molly's hand and kissed it. Molly did not like the affection and yanked her hand away. " I may be upset but I am not crippled!" she yelled. She took a step back, crossing her arms over her chest.
"I never said that," Chris apologized but Molly would have none of it. "Well you want to call off my match and I have no say in this," she yelled. Chris sighed, raking his hand through his long blond hair. "Babe, I don't want you to get hurt," he said. That was it, Molly had had enough. "I'm a fucking wrestler Chris! Or course I am going to get hurt!" she screamed. She raised her hands as if she was shielding herself. "Ok Molly, you need to calm down," he said, sounding a little angry as well.
"I am not some doll that needs protection!" she yelled. He walked passed him and pushed him out of her way. "I have a match," she said, and reached for her bag, ready to go get dressed. Chris quickly yanked the bag from her and throw it in the corner. "I am not going to let you wrestler when you are acting all bitchy and stubborn just to hide your real feelings," Chris yelled. Molly looked shocked and turned to walk away, not wanting him to see her tears.
"Fuck off Chris," she said. Chris grabbed her by her shoulders and spun her around. "What is the matter with you?" he asked. Molly then did the only thing she could think off and pulled her hand back and slapped him hard across his face. Chris' face flew to the side, the slap echoing through the walls. When he turned shocked to look at her, she only had fury in her eyes. "I hate you," she spat before walking away, grabbing her bag and walking out the door.
• Chapter Eight •
|
|