The Bully

Chapter Four

"Now some of the boys might look a bit scary, Angelina but don't let em bother you. Anyone gives you any shit you report back to me, ok?" Stu said, as he led me to the ring where I was going to do the photo shoot. I nodded, nervously. I'd never done this before and though I'd been excited before now I was a little terrified. What if I screwed it up? What if he didn't like the pictures I took? But as soon as the first wrestler came into the ring and started to pose I found my confidence from behind the lens of the camera. There were big men and small men, some all muscle and some more girth than muscle but I treated them all the same, shyly asking them to move to where I wanted them to be so I could take their picture. One of them came out, turned away briefly and then turned back with blood dripping down his head. I gave a gasp of horror but he grinned at me.

"Just take my picture, miss," he said in broken English. I did as he said and was grateful when he left the ring. Stu watched with amusement but drifted away while I finished up with his own sons. Bret was the last to come out. He looked as uncomfortable as I felt when he climbed in the ring, but he recovered quicker than I did.

"So you seeing any fat on me, Angel?" he asked as I lifted the camera to take my shot.

"I need you to turn your head a little to the left and lift your chin," I said, ignoring his question, which had made me blush. He did as I instructed. I snapped several pictures of him in various poses around the ring but the best was one of him leaning on the ropes with his arms folded, staring into the camera. I knew that I'd be making two copies of that one. As I packed my camera into its case and set it down so that I could get out of the ring he stopped me.

"You working tomorrow?" he asked. I considered his question and steeled myself.

"You shouldn't keep coming in," I said. "Wasting your money so you can torment me."

"Torment you?" he echoed. "I've been going in there for years. Ask Bill."

"Oh ok," I said, rolling my eyes. He crossed the ring quickly, invading my personal space as he looked down at me. Unsure where to look as his bare chest filled my gaze, I resorted to looking at his boots.

"You should be grateful for having loyal customers," he said.

"Maybe you should be concentrating on your fake sport," I replied, glancing up at him. Bret's face immediately changed and he glared at me.

"What did you say?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

"You heard me," I said, again going to step away, but this time he grabbed my arm and I suddenly found myself face down on the mat, all the wind knocked out of me  with my arm pulled up behind me and pain shooting through my shoulder, as he dug a knee into my side.

"This feel fake to you?" he snarled in my ear.

"Bret! You let that girl up now! Both of you, my office!" Stu's furious voice made Bret release me quickly and then he slid out of the ring, a moody expression on his face. I got shakily to my feet, grabbed my camera and followed him to his dad's office. We stood in front of Stu's desk like a pair of naughty school children and he glared at both of us. "What the hell were you playing at? You are here to take photographs and you know better than to put a move on someone who hasn't trained!" He pointed to each of us in turn as he spoke.

"Sorry sir," Bret said immediately and I knew he was scared. I could have got him in so much shit I knew at that moment.

"Did you do that to hurt her?" Stu asked his son, furiously. "Because if you did I'm gonna take you in the Dungeon and stretch you like an elastic band until you snap! You hear me?"

"Yes sir, I hear you." Bret's voice was a little faint now and I cleared my throat.

"It was my fault sir. I asked Bret to show me a wrestling move. I'm very sorry. It won't happen again." I glanced at Stu's furious face. "Please don't stretch me."