Hostage- A WWE/ Shield Story

61

>>A few months later<<
==Roman's Point of View==

Dean and I are making a surprise visit back to Pensacola to see Sam. It's been sixteen months since she left the WWE, and we want to talk to her in person and see if she's ready to come home. We land at the airport and catch a cab home. When we get there, Sam's car isn't in the driveway. We grab our bags and knock on the front door. Tama answers it, greets us, and lets us in. We put our bags in my room.

Me:
Where's Sam, dad?

Tama:
Work.

Dean:
Work?? She has a job?

Tama:
Sure does.

Me:
What does she do?

Tama:
She wrestles.

Dean:
For who??

Tama:
FCW. She works there part-time.

Me:
When did this start?

Tama:
A long time ago. She said if she couldn't wrestle while she was here, she'd go crazy. So, Kevin and Mason talked to Steve Keirn....and he's a fan of The Shield, so....he hired her. (he checks his watch) She should be coming home by now.....don't worry, you'll hear her before you see her.

Dean and I sit and wait. About ten minutes later, we hear music pulsating and laughing with an engine revving. The car shuts off and the voices move towards the door. The doorknob jingles and the door opens, and in comes Sam with two of mine and Dean's FCW friends from back in the day; Mason Ryan and Kevin Hackman. Mason has his arm around her. She doesn't even notice us as she and Mason are playfully shoving one another. There's dried blood on her face.

Mason:
Just admit I kicked your ass.

Sam:
You did....(laughing) that kendo stick fuckin hurt!

Mason:
Well, so did the chair!

Sam:
You hit me with a weapon, it's fair game.

Mason:
I am so glad we have a re-match in two days....ladders included.

Kevin sees us and grins. We wave.

Kevin:
Uh, guys?

Sam:
Oh, me too. Any chance to put your muscular ass in its place I will take! Which I will gladly do, any day of the week. You may have won the battle, but I will win the war....because I'm just that damn good. Because even Steve says I'm the star of the show....which is an accurate statement—given I was trained by the two very epitomes of perfect wrestlers.

Mason:
You better watch that mouth of yours, Anao'i...you're getting to like Ambrose. You're getting to be a cocky smartass.

Sam:
I take that as a compliment. That cocky smartass taught me a lot.

Kevin:
Guys.

Mason:
I'm sure. But your brother didn't teach you about hardcore matches.

Sam:
Oh, that's where you're wrong...they may not have spent as much time on that particular topic....but you must have forgotten about how much Dean likes blood, carnage, and violence. And I take after my brothers—I love that shit too.

Kevin:
Guys....

Mason:
A love for violence ain't gonna help you, Anoa'i. I really should be calling you the Mini-Lunatic Fringe, because the way you wrestled tonight was exactly like Ambrose.