Chapter Three: The Fighter and the Girl
It was midnight, and Kayla was just moving to close and lock up "Ronny's Gym" for the night when she spotted two familiar figures making their way towards the doors. One of them was limping and leaning against the other man, and with a gasp, Kayla opened the doors and rushed out onto the sidewalk.
"Art! Red!" she gasped, hurrying to Red's side. "What happened?"
"I'm alive and quite well, Kayla. Just had a few stitches and a couple of bruises..." Red started, and she gasped again, holding the door open as Arthur helped Red into the gym.
"A few stitches? Red, you look like you've been run over!" Kayla exclaimed, pulling her chair out from behind her desk and offering it to Red. He smiled appreciatively and then collapsed into the seat, closing his eyes so he couldn't see her concerned look as she studied him.
"You were fighting again," she stated, folding her arms across her chest. "You were fighting again, and Eric kicked your butt."
"A whole lot more than my butt," Red groaned. "Oh, but we did see your boyfriend there."
"My boyfriend?" Kayla frowned, confused and not at all amused.
"Ryan McCarthy," Red chuckled and then gasped when the motion hurt.
"Why on earth did you call him that?" Kayla sighed, reaching into a small refrigerator for a bottle of water and then unscrewing the top before she handed it to Red.
"Only because you've been following him around ever since you watched that fight three years ago. The one between him and Jake what's-his-face."
"Tyler. And I haven't been following him around," Kayla said, rolling her eyes.
"Uh huh. Sure. You know his height, his weight, and what his tattoos are. You are just like your dad when it comes to finding a good fighter. He's here in Miami and he goes to one of your classes. When were you planning on talking to him?" Red asked before taking a sip of water.
"I wasn't planning on talking to him. There isn't any reason for me to."
"Kayla," Arthur spoke calmly. "This is your chance. You've been watching him, hoping that somehow or another he would be able to help you. Don't let it slip through your fingers."
"I do know a lot about McCarthy the fighter," Kayla said, biting her lip as she leaned back against the desk. "I also know that he has anger issues and an ego the size of Texas. He won't want to help. He has no idea who I am and he doesn't care. And I saw something in that last fight that you brought up, Red. McCarthy fights dangerously. He fights to kill. It takes far too many people to pull him off of an opponent. He isn't needed or wanted in this gym. I try to keep everything here friendly and appropriate for anyone who happens to step inside. I don't want him here."
"And seeing him with Eric did nothing to help your previous hopes, did it? He doesn't like Eric, Kay," Red mumbled, starting to nod off to sleep.
"Red, we need to get you home," Arthur grinned, helping Red out of the seat. "We'll see you tomorrow, Kayla. I'll be here in the morning, as always. And hey, you may want to think about giving McCarthy a chance. Red is right. He doesn't like Eric. You also know that Ryan is a good fighter. You should give him a chance."
Kayla watched the men leave and then shook her head before she finished closing up the gym. What the guys said was true. She had been greatly interested in Ryan McCarthy when she had seen him fight Jake three years ago. There was something about his passion for fighting, the fire inside of him, that had drawn her to him. She had been trained to know a good fighter when she saw him, and Ryan was a good one. But he also had severe issues to work through, including anger and aggression. His fighting hadn't stopped with that fight with Jake. He had spent the last three years fighting, whether it was physically with his fists, or emotionally. He had become somewhat of a celebrity, by way of YouTube, and Kayla hadn't like what she had seen of the cursing, mocking, arrogant famous McCarthy. She certainly didn't want to see any of that attitude here.
Three years ago. That's when he should have started college, Ryan thought to himself as he slipped into a seat in Prof. Elder's Algebra class the next day. If he had gone into college straight from high school, he wouldn't have had to be in this class. But no, instead he had to go work for his father, just to show the man that Ryan McCarthy could do more than fight. He had worked in his father's business, a state-of-the-arts hotel business in Orlando, and had then managed to blow a good bit of that money on fights and entertainment so that he was now taking money from his father's pocket again, so he could make something of himself. It was little wonder that Mr. McCarthy constantly harassed and pushed his son. And Algebra was one of the most boring class, to make matters worse, no matter how much Prof. Elder tried to make it interesting. It was a good thing that math came naturally to him.
Not so for the girl in front of him. She was hunched over her papers and textbook, her dirty-blonde hair draping down her back, as she tried to figure out why on earth variables were necessary, and why oh why did they have to be multiplied to this and that power, or even worse, divided? She was chewing on her pencil, something Ryan found both unappealing and yet cute at the same time. He shifted in his seat, about to get up and offer his assistance, but then a familiar red-headed man strode over to the girl and sat down next to her, leaning over her papers with her and murmuring instructions.
Ryan was pleased to see that Red's face didn't look nearly as bad as it had last night, though it still bore marks that spoke of a bad fight. Red didn't seem to notice, however, and helped the girl for a couple of minutes before he sat up straight and turned to look at Ryan.
"Well hello, McCarthy. I didn't know you were taking this class," Red grinned. "I didn't see you here yesterday. Get enough sleep last night?"
"That I did. Bet you did too," Ryan smirked, sitting back comfortably in his chair.
"Yeah. Painkillers and numbing shots seem to help one do that," Red sighed. "Oh, McCarthy, this is my friend, Kayla Fisher. She owns 'Ronny's.' She also has followed all of your fights for quite some time. She's quite the admirer of your fighting strategies."
"Red," the girl hissed, punching him lightly in the shoulder and then turning to face Ryan.
She was the jogger on the beach last night, but last night, he hadn't gotten a good look at her. She had a very pleasant face, with dancing hazel eyes, full lips, and just the faintest of freckles sprinkled across her nose and cheeks.
"How are you enjoying school so far?" she asked, her voice light and cheerful.
"I was never much one for classrooms," Ryan shrugged, letting his eyes glance over her. She had a good form, though it was hard to see beneath her loose polo shirt and plain jeans. If she had been in shorts and a tank top, she would certainly warrant some attention...
"Enjoying the view?" her voice cut into his thoughts, and he could see a spark in her light eyes. "There isn't much to see."
"If you've taken a good amount of time watching my fights, then you've taken time to look over my body. I thought it would only be fair if I returned the favor," Ryan chuckled, and she turned away from him quickly, her cheeks flaming red.
"Ooh, you are good," Red grinned, looking from Kayla's blushing face to Ryan's smirk. "She's really something, isn't she?"
"Hmm. Put her in a dress with a little makeup and you're one lucky man," Ryan mused.
"What about heels?" Red asked. "Think she'd look good in those?"
"I am sitting right here!" Kayla exclaimed, getting the attention of other students.
"Hey, I'm throwing a party at my place tonight. Would you be interested in coming?" Ryan asked, ignoring Kayla's frustration.
"Eh, I think I'll pass. Studying and all," Red shrugged. "But if you really want to have a good party, you'll find a way to get Eric to come. He can hook you up with most of Miami."
"And he won't have any problems with coming," Kayla added, still too embarrassed to look back. "He'll probably supply you with all the beer."
"And you know where to find him," Red nodded. "He'll be at his club tonight."
Prof. Elder walked into the room then, ending all conversation, but Ryan remained amused by the permanent blush on Kayla's face through the rest of the class.
"No one could throw a party like a McCarthy." That was the saying that was passed around from neighbor to neighbor and school to school in Orlando, and it seemed that the saying was going to follow the younger McCarthy all the way to Miami.
By the time 10:30 arrived that night, Ryan's apartment and the Miami beach were covered with partying college students as well as some other guests that happened to come along from Eric's nightclub. It seemed that word had spread through The Vegas that someone at the beach was throwing a party, and whether or not everyone knew who was hosting it, they still went.
Here was a scene that Ryan could feel comfortable with. The classroom was an area that he almost wished were off-limits to him, but the party scenario was a place where he thrived and belonged. He could move quite easily through masses of bikini-clad and bare-chested bodies, never caring if someone just happened to brush against him or send a wink in his direction. A can of beer could drown every possible discomfort in this situation, and the fights that he knew were going to take place on the beach could distract him from whatever troubles of the day happened to be on his mind.
Ryan pressed through his crowded kitchen and stepped out onto his balcony, looking out at the beach, at what he almost considered to be his domain now, what with all the guests who were down there. It was almost too easy to be popular. At least for him it was. It was just a matter of getting in with the right girl or the right crowd. Then once the fights started...Bam! Ryan was a mega superstar in the world of college kids.
"McCarthy, I have to admit, you throw a pretty decent party," Eric commented, stepping up behind Ryan. "I'd actually like to offer you a job, if you'd like it."
"A job?" Ryan asked, an eyebrow arched as he tried not to grin with amusement. "What sort of job?"
"The Vegas needs a few more bouncers to break up fights. I figure you're beef enough to do it, since you aren't interested in fighting and, no offense, but I don't think you'd hold up much to the fellows who do fight in there."
"Ah, but I'd hold up enough to be a bouncer? What do you have against me, Eric? Did my videos scare you off?" Ryan chuckled.
"Maybe you just don't have the guts to be a fighter," Eric scoffed, and Ryan stepped back, his hands up in almost a surrender gesture and feigned shock on his face.
"Whoa there. That's a bit of a blow below the belt," Ryan grinned, more amused than aggravated by Eric's obvious desire to fight. "Looks like we've got a bit of a fight going on down in the sand though," he chuckled, gesturing casually to the beach, successfully changing the conversation.
There were two women, both almost in the water, going at it like their lives depended on it.
"I've heard you were always good at explaining the causes of fights," Eric smirked, watching as the brunette managed to climb atop the blonde and went to town with her fists. "So what's their story?"
"Brunette caught Miss Blonde cheating with Brunette's boyfriend. Our aggressive, retaliating female is now attempting to avenge herself of the most degrading of hurts by beating the stuffing out of her weaker counterpart. Ah, and here comes the guilty boyfriend," Ryan chuckled, opening a can of beer and taking a swig as a tall man stepped into the fight, attempting to pull the girls apart. For his efforts, he was rewarded with an amazing blow to the chin, and then all three of the involved fight members exploded into action.
"Nothing like a three-way fight," Ryan grinned, turning away from the balcony and making his way into the apartment. "Excuse me, Eric, but this balcony only has room for one champ."
Ryan made his way down to the beach, jogging to get to the fight and watch. It was nearly over before he got there, but then another fight started, everyone moving to circle around the occupants and watch with cheers. One fight followed another until finally the guests began to disperse, going to their respective homes to get some sleep before they had to be at school or work.
The beach was deserted in a matter of minutes, leaving Ryan standing alone, looking thoughtfully out at the waves before he turned and made his way back to his apartment. The whole place was trashed when he stepped inside, for empty beer cans, food, and some other items that screamed of drugs were scattered all across the floors. The mess could wait until tomorrow. His bedroom hadn't been touched, and that was all he was concerned with at the moment.
He locked up the apartment doors and then made his way into his bedroom. Moonlight was flooding into the room, but he paid no mind to it as he pulled his shirt off over his head and then towards his bed. He was somewhat startled when he saw the shadows near his closet move, and then he watched as Roxanne, Eric's flirtatious girl, stepped towards him, her dark brown eyes taking in his chiseled upper body and the smirk on his face.
"Doors are locked. That usually means the party's over," Ryan chuckled.
"The way I see it, the party's just begun," Roxanne smiled, moving over to him and putting her hands on his chest with a contented hum.
"Now hold on," Ryan frowned, folding his arms across his chest. "Why so clingy? You and Eric are an item. I don't need you toying around with me, too. And you mocked me," he added. "Something about how Eric is a better fighter than I am?"
"I was only playing a part," Roxanne pouted, pressing her lips to Ryan's shoulder and grinning when he shuddered despite himself. "You are by far a better fighter. I watched your videos. I am not with Eric anymore," Roxanne smiled. "And I want you. Even if you don't much care for me..."
"Because, let's face it, I don't know a thing about you," Ryan interrupted, an eyebrow arched.
"I know you can't resist a free offer for a good time," Roxanne continued. "And I'm giving you that offer, McCarthy. One free night of fun."
"Which means that, on any other night, you'd make me pay," Ryan laughed. Roxanne's face turned a pretty shade of red in the dark lighting, and she spun away from him with a snort.
"You really are as arrogant as they say," she scowled, moving towards the door.
Ryan rolled his eyes and then turned and put a hand out, catching her by her shoulder.
"Listen, if you just want a good night, I'm game. But if I hear anything about Eric, no matter what state of undress you might happen to be in, I will throw you out. Got it?" he asked, and she turned and nodded before flinging herself at him.
It never once troubled Ryan that he could take any random girl and indulge in some pleasure with her without any regrets. He could slide into bed with a girl and come back out without having had any deep emotions at all throughout the entire event. He didn't stop to think about whether or not the girls had any emotions. He was accustomed to women having crushes on him, and he always thought he fulfilled their deepest dreams whenever he gave them what they wanted.
Of course, nothing he had done with them had ever had any lasting or severe consequences, either. This night wasn't going to be any different from any other night, in his mind, and so he gave Roxanne what she wanted, just happening to have a little bit of pleasure in it himself, and he didn't even bother considering the possible repercussions of what he had just done.