The Clinch

Chapter Two:

Chapter Two

When I spot Sid coming out of class- how can I not, his ginger hair is practically a freaking beacon in the summer sun, and personally I’m surprised he hasn’t brought a plane down for landing or something- I immediately begin my stride across the playground towards him and the twerp who’s currently tugging at my brother’s collar.

“Hey” I holler, flicking the little toe rag away from my brother who is rather red in the face and looks close to tears; seeing Sid upset is not a remedy to my temper at all. “You think you’re funny kid, picking on my brother huh? Do you know who I am?”

The kid’s sudden blush of humiliation says it all; he has no clue about who we are and what kind of family protection Sid has over him. Go figure, he is the new kid after all.

“You here alone, punk? Who’s picking you up?” I ask the snot rag, his eyes widened in fright when I grab both him and Sid by the scruff of the neck.

I almost smirk when the kid stutters, almost. “No. My b-big broth-ther is p-p-picking me up.” His eyes avoid mine at all costs and he suddenly jumps to attention, pointing across the playground at an approaching figure. “There he is now, that’s my big brother!”

Flicking my head up, I keep a scowl on my face as my eyes follow the direction of the kid’s pointed finger and… Whoa. What the fuck? Scrawny little runt has a Herculean brother; this guy is seriously…. What is, he freaking six foot five, six foot six? He’s one muscle bound son of a bitch too! “Holy shit.” I murmur when I notice his clenched fists and the strong sinew of his forearms- one arm of which sports jagged white scar tissue which looks like it came from some sort of gang fight.

Fuck.

Rule number one for the Kallahan’s is to stay out of gang business; we don’t want the trouble and devastation that they bring. We’ve come to an understanding with the local gang round our area that if they stay away from what’s ours and don’t cross any lines with us, then we leave them be and they don’t feel the wrath of the Kallahan gym. We don’t fear them, per say, we’re from a family and club of fighters; we could easily best them in a fight. The reason we stick away is that we don’t want the hassle. We’ve been brought up knowing when and where to use our fighting, we’ve learnt to have respect for our advantage in battle and keep its use to a minimum because we never know when our luck is going to run out and some little punk is gonna turn a gun on us.

But if this guy’s brother is picking on mine, it gives me enough justification to kick his fucking arse.

The kid in my arms- Kevin, I note when Sid hisses at him to stop scrabbling around- has one sexy ass brother. That man is a barbarian! Just look at him, my inner voice screams at me. Oh believe me, I scream back at it, I am looking. And I’m looking my fill.

Prominent jaw line and cheek bones? Check.

Fierce brows and dark eyes? Check.

Overt masculinity? Oh boy, yes, he has a lot of that! And I barely control the perverted shudder that wants to run through me when his pitch black eyes sink into mine and I’m swamped with pheromones.

“Is there a reason why you’re holding my brother, princess?” He asks in a deep, resonating voice when he comes to a stop in front of us. He looks amused, deeply amused, at my ire which only kicks up my temper even more.

“Don’t fucking call me that.” I snarl up at him, releasing the boys and bouncing forward on the balls of my feet, readying myself for a fight. Nobody calls me princess. Not even my father gets that privilege. Heck, sometimes he accidentally calls me son, that’s how far from a princess I truly am. I’m the exact opposite of what my mother wanted in a daughter thanks to the overbearing rearing of both my two elder brothers, my father and the whole of the fucking gym. I like who I am and nothing can tear me away from a gory fight, but when I see the sadness in my mother’s eyes because her only daughter acts more like a son than her sons do, I can’t help but feel guilty.

He raises a brow at me, one corner of his mouth lifting a dimple in his cheek as he grins at me. “Tsk-Tsk. Your temper princess… That temper of yours is going to land you in trouble if you’re not careful.”

Without deliberation, I cock my fist back and strike out towards his smug face. I’m just about to break skin when his hand shoots out and he catches my fist in his large palm. “You want to fight me, princess? Listen, kid” I growl at his use of the word kid and he grins wickedly to see the effect that one word has on me “I don’t fight girls, so if you’ve got a vendetta against me why don’t you go get your daddy or something and I’ll settle it with him.”

A full blown growl leaves me and my body shakes with anger. How dare he? “No. I’m settling this with you. I’m as good as any man – heck, maybe even better – in a fight. You obviously have no idea who you’re fucking dealing with, Hercules.” He scoffs at my new nickname for him and I jerk my fist out of his grip with a vicious yank, and just as I’m about to go into attack mode, someone jerks me back.

“Darryl, what the hell?”

Reagan wraps his hands firmly around my elbows and tugs me backwards, behind him. I groan with a roll of my eyes and wait for him to berate me as if I’m a child. Everyone thinks they’re my parent; even the guys at the gym have a go at telling me what to do. “Just doing some business Reagan, nothing to worry you’re pretty little head about.”

Turning back to Kevin’s brother, I’m tempted to spit at him disgust. The handsome bastard is smirking at me.

“The Hell it isn’t my business, why you always gotta go starting fights all the time, Darryl? If WBC thinks you’re causing trouble they’ll disqualify you faster than you can say Knock Out. You need to keep your nose clean!” He rants at me. “And if you get in shit, you could jeopardise all of the Kallahan’s. Use your head!”

He’s right. God he’s so right. I need to stay out of trouble if I want to stand any chance in entering the female boxing league professionally. I’ve been training my whole life to get into the league and I can’t just give it up now.

“Fine.” I spit out, rolling my shoulders in aggravation. “Then you deal with this. That kid” I gesture at Kevin whilst curling my lip in a snarl “has been beating on Sid.”

Reagan gives a huff and divides his gaze between me, Kevin before turning to Kevin’s brother and offering him a hand. “Listen man, we don’t want any bother but Sid is our baby brother and we’re very protective of our own, if you could just keep your brother away from ours we’ll leave you be, alright?”

The brother slaps palms with Reagan’s and grins at him. “Sure thing, but I don’t think princess over there is too happy about this arrangement” he shirks his head at me and I reward him with my growl whilst Reagan chuckles.

“’Princess’ huh?” Reagan chuckles, darting a glance between both Hercules and I, “Yeah” my brother agrees “she is pretty hot headed. I’m Reagan by the way. And princess - as you so nicely named her- is called Darryl.”

“Gabriel” he replies, sending a wink in my direction that instantly has be in guard dog mode. Why did muscle man have to have such an angelic name?

I’m looking forward to having Reagan smash this dude’s pretty face in. No one flirts with me in front of Reagan and gets away with it! The last dude who even stepped within my personal space came away with a bust nose and knee replacement surgery. Sometimes Reagan’s temper can rival mine. In his eyes I’m still the family baby.

Instead, and much to my shock and disdain, Reagan laughs. “Dude you are setting yourself up for trouble. Don’t come crying to me when she truly goes for you.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”