still hadn’t grown into his ears. She had learnt the
best way to deal with a problem such as this was to nip it in the bud. She was
in charge and Carrot-top needed to accept and accede to her authority.
The small gaggle of men separated
as she walked across the mats toward them. Carrot-top’s grin grew wider, his
stance almost offensive as he anticipated the confrontation. Over six-feet
tall, he towered over her easily. His body, however, was all limbs and joints,
his face under his unusually bright orange hair, wide and smug. His eyes were
mean and hard.
Rose felt her resolve strengthen.
She could see the bully in his eyes, the thug he must have been. The guy needed
a smack down and she was the one to deliver it. She stopped a few feet in
front of him, her hands loose and unthreatening at her sides, putting him at
ease.
“Derek isn’t it?” she asked.
“Yeah, that’s my name don’t wear it
out.” He bobbed his head, shooting sidelong glances at his comrades who hid
their smiles behind their hands.
Rose valiantly resisted the urge to
roll her eyes at the infantile greeting. God, they were taking this regression
thing too far! Instead, she smiled her most innocuous smile.
“You seem to really be having fun.
I heard you laughing. Is it a private party or can anyone join in?”
Derek snorted. “You can join in
anytime you want, Rose.” He drew her name out, turning it into a crude caress.
Rose bit her lip to stop herself
from laughing. He reminded her of the young boys who hung around outside the
pubs and clubs at home, catcalling and making crude remarks. She wondered if
he had wife and two-point-four children at home.
She leant forward slightly as if
conferring. “So what’s the joke?”
There was a shift in the corner of
her vision as his companion, a dark-haired man with a neatly trimmed goatee,
cleared his throat. “Um…nothing really, Miss. I mean, Rose.” His voice shook
slightly.
Derek shot him a venomous look and
his other companion, a mousy weasel look-alike, snorted into his hand, which
seemed to embolden Derek further.
Pulling himself to his full height,
he looked down his nose at her. “We were just wondering how you maintain your
balance with those puppies?” He shrugged. ”I mean, isn’t this class all about
using your body as a weapon? What do you do, poke out your assailants eyes?” He
smirked, looking to his posse for encouragement.
The dark-haired man, Simon, stepped
back slightly as if trying to physically disassociate himself from the larger
man, but Weasel Boy stood firm, his eyes shining with amusement.
Rose tapped her chin thoughtfully
with her index finger. “I was just about to give a demo actually.” She fixed
her eyes on his, her lips curving in a sadistic smile. “Thank you so much for
volunteering.”
Two minutes later, a very
disgruntled and embarrassed Derek limped off the practice mat.
“So that’s how we do it, everyone.
I hope you were paying attention because we’ll be practicing that move next
time, and, Derek?” She smiled her sweetest smile. “You’ve been so great. You
get to be my demo partner from now on.”
“In other words punching bag.” It
was Daryn’s turn to snigger.
Derek shot him a lethal look but
made no further move.
The class ended and the group
dispersed– Derek oddly quiet and the first to exit the room.
The gym, Heat, was relatively new.
It had only been open a couple of months and the décor was still bright and
fresh. The colour scheme was all vibrant reds and yellows and the effect was
very modern with a strong minimal theme. The actual gym room, which housed all
the equipment, faced a wall-to-wall window of tinted glass, allowing the people
working out to look out but remain unobserved themselves. Two fifty-two-inch High Definition plasma screens were fixed to the walls, tuned permanently to one of
the MTV channels that actually played music videos. Surround sound speakers
blared out music