The events of this story take place about two years after the end of Paper Tiger. The characters are the same, and I encourage everyone to reread the first story to familiarize with the story line. Feel free to email comments or suggestions.
Thanks,
Dan skyecatone@hotmail.com
Steel Tigers Paper Tiger Book II
Kyler Bridgemont was born to a life of comfort. The most expensive toys, the best name brand clothes, a pool, and as he matured he had his choice of vehicles and a suite of rooms in his father's Las Vegas home, a sprawling 20,000 square foot 'cottage' in the foothills.
Despite this envious existence, Kyler spent most of his time angry in one fashion or another. He didn't live in his father's home because of the amenities but because it was the lesser of two evils. Choosing asshole A over asshole B boiled down to telling the judge which one he wanted to live with, and his dad would offer more freedom.
Outwardly, Kyler was a very social guy with a quick sense of humor and a generous nature. He was surrounded by any number of people that called themselves his friends. Most people he passed got a smile and a nod from him, earning him a reputation as a decent guy and a babe magnet.
The dark side of Kyler was unknown to most of these people, and for the most part to anyone that knew him save a select few. He could be looking right at them and nodding his head, a smile on his lips, and be furious, desperately wanting to reach out and choke the person and batter their face.
Shortly after his sixteenth birthday he found salvation. He and a friend rented the movie Fight Club, and Kyler saw the light. His fascination for it grew to obsession, and only a week later he was able to find a real fight club. In order to fight the competitors were required to put in a hundred dollars. The winner got the pot.
Kyler was well built and muscular, and at 5'10" and a hundred seventy pounds, he wasn't that small, but he lacked a critical element. Experience.
The first time he fought he walked away with a broken nose and several deep lacerations as well as two cracked ribs. He was euphoric. He concocted a story about being jumped for his dad at the emergency room, all the while rerunning the fight through his head.
Not long after that he was fighting at least once a week and usually twice or more. He had a natural talent for going into a frenzy, mauling his opponents as they fought bare-chested and savaged each other's bodies. There were no rules except for no weapons, and Kyler had found sweet release. To one fight he'd worn a skin tight nylon shirt with a leopard pattern on it, and a Mexican guy had called him the Jaguar. It stuck.
He graduated high school with a 3.8 average and entered college. He had a knack for computers and HTML script and earned an associates degree in programming and web design right after his twentieth birthday. He went to work for a firm that designed commercial web pages and networks in the downtown area. Kyler was convinced that the fights had saved his life, and that he would never have made it through college without killing someone had it not been for the freedom they offered.
He got out of the shower and toweled himself of, glancing in the mirror at the almost completely healed new tattoo on his right shoulder. It was a jaguar positioned so that it looked like it was clawing its way up his arm. It's companion hung from his shoulder blade and looked like it was about to attack the other. He smiled faintly and went back to drying his hair. He wore his pale blond hair short and spiked, brushed straight back from his forehead. He tossed the towel on the floor and wandered into his bedroom, his muscles easily seen moving under his skin. Tonight was a fight, and he had a lopsided smile on his face as he pulled on his clothes.
The pants were black leather with bright green and blue geometric stripes sewn in. They matched his motorcycle jacket which in turn matched his motorcycle's paint job. He pulled on socks and black Doc Martin boots, a silver studded leather belt, and snagged his jacket on the way out. A shirt and underwear would've been useless so he didn't bother. He pulled the jacket on as he entered the garage, leaving it open to show off his chest, and pushed the button to open the garage door.
The bike had been a graduation present from his dad, one of very few gifts that he actually appreciated. It was a Kawasaki bullet bike, black with green and blue trim, and it went like a bat out of hell. One of the guys he fought had introduced him to a friend that did engine work, and as a result his bike was far from stock.
Kyler pulled on his helmet, painted to match the bike and his leathers, and pulled the mirrored visor down. He threw his leg over the seat and rested on it as he fired it up, getting the same thrill he always did feeling it purr under his ass. His smile broadened as he revved it a couple of times and then flew out of the garage and down the drive way before disappearing into the night.
Not far away in a small canyon several cars were parked in a semi circle with their lights on. Between thirty and forty people milled around the wide dirt circle talking and laughing. Money was given from one hand to other as bets were placed, and several coolers of ice and beer were scattered around.
There had already been several fights, and the winners and losers were still in the crowd. A sense of anticipation hung in the air, contagious, affecting everyone present. The Jaguar would fight tonight, and his opponent was still unknown.
Kyler road his bike up near the circle of cars and shut it off, coasting the last couple of yards. A cheer went up, and a number of guys came over to greet him, slapping him on the back. He set his helmet and jacket over the seat and followed them to the clearing. He put his $100.00 in with the others and looked around, wondering who it would be.
Suddenly there was a hush and several finger pointed behind him. He turned to see what was going on and saw a tall figure walking towards him with three other guys. Kukalu, the Tongan. He was four inches taller than Kyler and out weighed him by eighty pounds. He looked like he could bench Kyler's bike.
"He wants me?" Kyler asked the guy that was collecting money. "Doesn't he usually fuck with bigger guys?"
"His choice, man. You don't have to accept." The guy, a wirey Mexican with a goatee said. He raised his eyebrows. "What you gonna do, Jaguar?" He grinned, knowing full well that Kyler wouldn't back down.
"Fuck it. Who wants to live, right?" He walked to the center of the clearing and smiled, putting his hands on his hips. The crowd went wild, throwing their arms in the air. The champion was on the floor and ready to entertain them.
Dr. Brian Petersen smirked and waved his hand dismissively from the passenger seat of Tyler's Corvette. "The Empire Strikes Back was a classic story. It was a thousand times better than any of the others. The ending was so sad it had even the old men crying. Episode One was pathetic."
Tyler chuckled and shook his head. "Bullshit, Bri. Look at the foreshadowing and subtext they have set up for the next movie. George Lucas is a genius and Episode Two will prove it." He turned the car off the strip onto Tropicana and headed towards the airport.
"You're just saying that because you think the guy playing Skywalker is hot." Brian jabbed, raising his eyebrows. "Admit it."
"Fuck you, Brian. That's weak and you know it. It's gonna be great, regardless of how hot he is." Tyler pulled out a cigarette and lit it.
"Come on, I saw how you looked at that sci-fi magazine. I never heard of him but I noticed you had all the details." Brian grinned and leaned his elbow on the window seal. "Carlos and I had no idea his name was Harmon Jacobson."
"Hayden Christensen." Tyler corrected.
"Ha! I knew it!" Brian slid down in the seat and howled with laughter. "You might be the mighty protector, but you're totally transparent."
"I am not bringing you again, you penis wrinkle. I can get abused anywhere." Tyler chuckled and turned off on a side road, heading for Carlos' new house. It sat on a bluff over looking the city and offered a gorgeous view at night. Twelve hundred acres surrounded the new ranch making it very easy to defend. Tyler liked it.
They moved past some of the newer subdivisions and out into open territory.
Brian slid back up in his seat and swiped at his eyes. "God you're funny.
I wish you could see the look on.....Hey!" He slammed up against the window as Tyler suddenly swerved and put the car into a broad slide.
Tyler gritted his teeth and pulled hard on the wheel and tried to steer back into the slide. Whatever had fallen in front of them had looked like a body and he hoped he'd missed it. Smoke rolled off the tires as he mashed on the brakes and brought the car to a stop. He jammed it in park and dived out the door.
"What was it? Did we hit something?" Brian trotted after him. They found what it was that had nearly been ground under the wheels of the car and Tyler squatted down. Brian walked up and looked over his shoulder. "Jesus.
Here, let me get in there."
Tyler moved out of the way and let the doctor take over. From what it looked like it was probably a waste of time, but he knew Brian couldn't just walk away. The boy in the road appeared to have been beaten almost to death, his features obscured behind heavy bruising and blood. His chest and torso were likewise battered. Even his leather pants were torn and scuffed.
"Got your cell phone?" Brian asked as he assessed the kid's injuries. Tyler nodded. "Call an ambulance."
"The house is closer. You have that fancy room set up." Tyler pulled his phone out. "If he isn't going to die I think Carlos would rather we not get the police all excited on his front doorstep." Brian hesitates for a second and then nodded. Tyler stood up and walked away a few steps to make the call.
Kyler sluggishly became aware of the outside world as the blackness receded. It was bright but not blinding as he blinked his eyes open. It took several seconds to realize he wasn't home and a few more seconds to realize that he hurt everywhere. He was lying on his back and groaned, trying to roll onto his side.
"Easy." A pleasant voice came from behind him and gentle hands helped him complete the move. "Try not to move to much. You have cracked ribs. They're taped up, but they're still going to hurt like hell."
Kyler forced his eyes to focus as someone moved around in front of him. A man with light brown hair and glasses smiled at him, and Kyler closed his eyes again. "Where am I?" He mumbled through swollen lips.
"I'll let Tyler fill in the details for you." Brian said. "Right now let me introduce myself. My name is Brian. I'm a doctor. We found you on the road last night. Looks like you got the shit beat out of you. What happened?"
Kyler tried to smile and his attempt to laugh caused his ribs to go off like lightening. "Should a seen the other guy." He said quietly.
"Did you get kidnapped or something?" Brian asked, checking Kyler's pulse and looking at his watch. "You were almost ten miles out of town."
"No. Not kidnapped." Kyler opened his eyes again and looked around the room. "Your house?"
Brian snorted. "No. Don't I wish." He put Kyler's arm back on the bed and stood up. "We couldn't find any ID on you. Care to tell me who you are?" He moved to sit in a chair near the wall.
"Name's Kyler. You didn't find my wallet in my pants?" He lifted up his arm and noticed there was an ace wrap around his wrist.
"No, and don't flex that wrist. It's sprained."
Kyler winced as he tried it. "Thanks for the update. How come you didn't just call and ambulance or something?"
Brian smiled and looked down. "Well, it's a long story. Tyler should be here any minute and he can tell you what's up. After that we can get you home if you want. Do you want me to call anybody?"
"No. Fuck 'em." Kyler's face pinched up from a sharp pain. "Ah! Jesus."
"Guess the shot wore off." Brian stood up and went to the dresser where his little black bag sat. He took out a syringe and a small bottle and began to fill it. "I'd give you a pill but it looks like you lips are pretty swollen still." He held the shot up and flicked it a couple of times. "Anyway, this is faster."
"What the hell is that?" Kyler demanded. "Dude, I don't do drugs."
"Chill, skinny human. This is a pain killer and it isn't that strong." Brian stepped towards the bed. "You can either lay there and grimace, suffering like a noble warrior, or I can give you this and you can sleep for a few hours. If you're worrying about me killing you I could've done that last night, and I already saw you naked and was unimpressed."
Kyler lifted up his sheet and noticed for the first time that he was naked.
His face turned red. Another sharp pain hit his ribs and he hissed, gritting his teeth. "Okay, okay. I want it."
"Now if we can teach you to duck you're gonna feel a lot smarter." Brian chuckled and gave Kyler the shot. "Tyler will be back when you wake up. I'll have some food here and something to drink."
Kyler was going to respond but already there was a coolness creeping up his body. He tried to form a word but all that came out was a squeak. His last memory before he went under was the doctor waving at him.
When he woke up it was early evening. He had a slight headache but was otherwise feeling a little better. There was a glass of water on the nightstand and he reached for it and took big swallow. To big. He coughed hard and lost his grip on the glass and accidentally spilled it all over himself and the sheets. "Son of a bitch!"
"Want some help?" A voice came from near the windows that ran the full length of one of the walls.
Kyler whipped his head around. The voice was not the doctor he'd met earlier. A figure moved away from the curtains towards the bathroom. He sat up slowly out of the puddle and tried to wrap the top sheet around himself, but with his wrist wrapped it wasn't working. "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to ruin the bed."
"You didn't." Tyler flipped on the light switch and brought a couple of towels over to the bed. He handed one to Kyler and used the other to soak up the water. "You're about my size. I put some of my clothes in the bathroom if you want to get dressed."
"Are you that Tyler guy the doctor mentioned?" Kyler asked, wiping the water off his chest. Tyler nodded. "Is he really a doctor?" Again Tyler nodded.
"The best there ever was. Pulled my ass out of the fire more than once." Tyler took the towels and went back to the bathroom. He came back with a pair of sweat shorts and a baggy t-shirt. "You, uh, weren't wearing underwear. Can you do without?"
Kyler nodded and took the clothes. "Don't have any use for 'em" He tried to stand up and grunted as his ribs and left hip lit up like fire. "Oh shit." He grumbled. Tyler caught his arm and helped him stand up. "Thanks."
Tyler took the shorts and bent over holding them out. "We found your bike this afternoon and brought it to the house. You were lucky. Nobody touched it." He slid the shorts up, deliberately ignoring what hung near his face. Kyler had an incredible physique. "There was a jacket that matched your pants and a helmet. We also found about five thousand dollars in a paper bag in the helmet. Are you a dealer?"
"No, dude. I won it." Kyler slid the t-shirt on. "I don't do drugs. I don't like not being in control, you know?" He sat back down on the edge of the bed slowly.
"That's what I heard." Tyler went over and sat in the chair by the wall. "A couple of my guys saw the fight last night. They said they've seen you fight before. You're a sure bet."
Oddly Kyler was pleased and smiled slightly. "Who's your guys?"
"A couple of numbers guys. They picked you last night." Tyler rested his head on his fist. "They said the other guy was a hundred pounds heavier, a Tongan, and had to be carried away." He smiled lopsidedly. "I've known them for a long time. They wouldn't lie to me."
"No but they might exaggerate. He wasn't that much bigger." Kyler moved his neck around and stretched it. "Can I ask you some questions?" Tyler nodded. "Who are you and why did you bring me here?"
Tyler didn't answer for a second while he checked his own mind one more time. "I'm Tyler Rockport. I'm the administrative assistant to Carlos Rivera. Do you know the name?"
Kyler thought about it and slowly nodded his head. "I think some of the guys that come to the fights work for him. He owns a casino or something."
"Close." Tyler chuckled. "As far as why I brought you here, call it instinct. What kind of questions would they have asked you at the hospital?
I'm sure the members of your club don't really want to be exposed, aren't you?"
"That actually sounded like I didn't appreciate what you and the doctor did for me. That isn't the way it is." He stood up again, not quite as slowly this time, and walked towards Tyler holding his hand out. "Thanks, man. I mean it."
"You're welcome. I didn't take it that way. I had a similar experience once." Tyler stood up and shook his hand. "If you're up to a walk we can go out with the others by the pool. Beats sitting in here."
"Just don't let me fall down." Kyler chuckled and took Tyler's arm for support. "Jesus, I never got beat like this before."
"You obviously have a depth perception problem." Tyler led him out into a wide hall and turned towards the back of the house.
"Depth perception?"
"Yeah, you obviously didn't know how deep a crack your ass was in." Tyler opened a sliding glass door and ushered Kyler through it.
"Believe me, I think I figured it out." Kyler was led outside into an oasis garden surrounding a large pool. Several palm trees were scattered around with other plants and flowers. They came out of the house through a sort of tunnel formed by trumpet vines and low cut evergreens. A redwood deck surrounded the half of the pool closest to the house.
There were three guys seated at one of the tables as they walked up and Tyler stopped near one of the men and put his hand on his shoulder. "Carlos, this is Kyler Bridgemont, our prize fighter."
Carlos stood up and held out his hand. "Nicky called from the hospital an hour ago, slugger. The Tongan is in the hospital and will probably be there for a few days." He laughed and ushered them to chairs. He waved his hand at the other two and introduced them . "Steve Garrett and Berto Montoya. These guys work for me. Boys, this guy played David and Goliath last night and goddamn near killed Goliath."
Kyler shook their hands and was actually pleased with the praise. Everyone needed an audience, and he'd grown up being told that only weak-minded fools got into fights. Now these guys seemed to think that it was a badge of honor to win a fight. "Thanks for taking me in."
"Stay as long as you want, kid. You'll probably decide you're a lot like us before long. You're surrounded by the best fighters that ever walked." Carlos lit a long thin cigar and looked over at Tyler. "The fuckers did it again, Ty. The whole goddamn network got hacked." He jerked a thumb at Steve and shook his head. "All the camera and door codes were compromised."
Steve opened a laptop that sat on the table and turned it on. "We already went through and reset everything and the temple is secure, but it'll happen again if we can't find the problem."
"Somebody's hacking in to your system?" Kyler asked. He looked up as a very pretty Mexican girl set a plate in front of him and a glass of sweetened ice tea. "Thanks." It was a club sandwich and fries, and he went at it with gusto, suddenly very aware of how hungry he was.
"Know anything about computers?" Berto asked. Kyler nodded and he continued. "All of the vital systems at the Temple are controlled by computer. All of the hotel room doors, payroll, fire systems, power, everything. Somebody keeps breaking in and just fucking around."
"What's the Temple?" Kyler asked around a mouthful of sandwich.
Steve stood up and lit a cigarette and then walked around by the pool. "The Temple of the Sun? That new casino out by the Luxor?"
Kyler stopped chewing for a second and locked eyes with Carlos. "You own that?"
Carlos chuckled and nodded. "That and the Western Palace."
Kyler swallowed hard. "Uh, I thought you guys were kidding about that."
Carlos shook his head. "I inherited it when my dad died. We built the Temple as a sort of memorial."
Kyler was slightly awestruck and couldn't believe he was actually sitting by the pool at the home of the owner of two major casinos. "That's really cool. He finished weekly.
"Just do me a favor, okay? Be yourself. We're pretty down to earth around here." Carlos waved his arm to take in the others. "I have the Army to keep me from getting my head to big."
"The Army?"
"Tiger's Army." Berto held up his tea glass in salute to Tyler. "The Rivera family's all purpose special operations unit."
Tyler returned the salute. "I think there are a few things that can be left out here."
"El Tigre' is to modest." Carlos chuckled and patted Tyler's arm. He looked over at Kyler. "You impress me, Kyler, because of the things my loyal men have told me they've seen you do. El Tigre' here impresses me because if I told him to he'd chew you up and spit you out."
Kyler glanced at Tyler nervously. Tyler laughed and held his hand up. "Chill, man. He doesn't want to see that."
"No I don't. I just meant that El Tigre' is a good friend to have." Carlos leaned back in his chair and puffed on his cigar.
"Can I look at the problem you're having on the computer?" Kyler asked Carlos. "I have a degree in computers."
"Yeah. Tell me what you see."
Berto turned the laptop and began taking Kyler through the code. Tyler's cell phone vibrated and he stood up and caught Carlos' eye as he flipped it open. Kyler glanced up as Tyler walked towards the yard and then back at the screen.
"On this block here, why does this loop have to be here?" Kyler pointed at the screen.
Berto shrugged. "I know how to run the program. I have no clue on how to write the program."
"It shouldn't be there. There's no reason for it." Kyler scrolled further down and bent closer. "Look, this is almost the same. These two run off each other. This is a sort of gate or portal. It's not related to these, though."
"So what do these gates do?" Carlos leaned forward on the table now giving Kyler his undivided attention.
"I'd need more time to go through it but the way this is written it would be easy to get into, especially if you can get to it through the internet." Kyler leaned back and cradled his ribs. They'd started to hurt again.
Carlos looked knowingly at Berto and then back to Kyler. His face was went unreadable. "Kyler, are you looking for a job? I have a position for a computer specialist."
"That'd be cool." Kyler nodded. "I could probably write you a secure system in a couple of days. You could have it verified."
"Actually I think I'd rather have you verify their work for me." Carlos grinned and leaned back. Tyler walked back over to the table and set his phone on it. "Tigre', I just hired Kyler here as my computer specialist. Put him under your payroll with all the benefits."
"ALL the benefits?" Tyler raised his eyebrows.
"You decide. He's your employee. I want that system debugged, Tyler." Carlos stubbed out his cigar. "What's with the call?"
"Let's go for a walk." Tyler tilted his head towards the yard. He put his hand on Kyler's shoulder. "Brian said he left you something for pain in the medicine cabinet in your room. If you need help Berto can go grab them for you."
"Thanks." Kyler watched them leave. "Am I allowed to ask what's going on?" He turned back to Berto.
"Let me give you some advice." Berto took off his glasses and set them on the table. "Working for Carlos is the sweetest gig you'll ever have. The problem is that you might get any morals you have twisted pretty hard."
"How do you mean?"
"Do you remember a couple of years ago there was a gang war? A gang from L.A. was trying to muscle in here?" Berto asked.
Kyler thought for a second and nodded. "Yeah, there was like a gang of vigilantes that stopped 'em or something. They painted a cat cartoon all over or something. It was all over the news."
"Right." Berto grinned. "Good memory." He twisted in his chair and pulled the sleeve of his shirt up exposing his tattoo of a cartoon tiger with sunglasses on holding a pistol. Underneath the tiger it said 'Tiger's Army'. "Recognize it?"
"Yeah, that's the one." Kyler smiled and then looked up. "Holy fucking shit! That was you guys?"
Berto pointed out into the yard at Tyler. "That is The General, my friend, that led the fucking charge. That is THE Tiger, El Tigre'."
"Everybody wondered who he was." Kyler stared at Tyler in wonder. "That's incredible."
"That is also information that will get your ass whacked, bud. It's a state secret if you get my drift."
Half an hour later Kyler was helped back to his room by Steve and Berto. He was in more pain than he wanted to admit to, and was grateful when Berto brought him one of the pills from the bathroom cabinet.
"Carlos said to leave this with you." Berto set the laptop in its zipper case on the side table. "I'm not staying here tonight, but if you wake up and want to go through the programming give me a call, okay? The number's programmed in." He set a cell phone on the laptop case. "This is yours, too. All of our numbers are in it."
"Thanks for the info, man." Kyler held out his hand and shook Berto's. "I'll take it to heart, man."
Berto grinned and clapped his shoulder. "Glad you're with us. By the way, I talked to one of the guys that watched you fight. I think it's cool that we have a jaguar working for a tiger, don't you?"
He laughed with them and saw them to the door, closing it behind them. It took a hell of a lot of work, but he got the ace wrap and the rib tape off and took a shower before getting in bed. He swallowed one of the pills and climbed into the sheets, expecting the pain killer to knock him out.
It didn't right away, and he found himself looking at the moon through the window sheers and running through the events of the last day and a half. By all rights he should feel uneasy about being here, about being found and 'rescued', and about what he'd learned about his benefactors. He didn't.
As he gazed half lidded out the window his mind circled in and out of images surrounding the time he'd spend with them tonight. One image came up more often than the others, though. Tyler, with his sharp features and green eyes, and his light brown pony tail. He was ultra athletic looking, and if the stories were true one hell of a fighter.
Kyler realized what he was thinking and his eyes opened wide. "Jesus! That's bullshit! I can't be attracted to him, that's messed up!" He mumbled to himself. For the last six years he'd known that he was likely gay but had deeply suppressed it, putting it with all of the other emotional baggage that made him a fierce fighter.
He'd messed around one time with a kid in 8th grade and had let the kid jack him off. The guilt had been so overwhelming that he never spoke to the kid again and just forced him self not to think about it. It must be the drugs, he thought and closed his eyes.
Tyler walked towards the house with Carlos, his hands behind his back, and filled his boss in on the current situation. "It wasn't a clean hit, Carlos. We got one of them alive. The guy said he was sent by Benny Shanks. Benny Shanks is dead. He died the night Manny died."
"You see the body?" Carlos sat in one of the chairs at the table and lit a fresh cigar. "I wasn't there. I was at the Palace."
"I didn't even see him get hit. Ramos told me about it." Tyler slumped into the opposite chair and lit a cigarette. "If he isn't dead then we know who's trying to put together Salieri's old crew."
"I'm sure they don't like me babysitting their shit for your wife, Tigre'. It's possible." Carlos put his feet up on the table. "Maybe they think they can take over where Little Tony left off."
"But we sold most of it. Christ Angelique's family went ape shit when she gave them half the money. They have nothing to gain from this. They were happier than hell." Tyler rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Why bring 'em together again?"
"Revenge, Ty." Carlos blew a smoke ring in the stillness of the night air.
"Think about it. Take me out and you get several families involved, and in the chaos you can make a fortune. It fits."
"Guess I need to go to San Fran." Tyler yawned. "You gonna be okay a few days?"
"Lance is back tomorrow. You did good with him. He keeps me safe." Carlos waved his hand dismissively. "When you talk to Hammer find out if he's seen anything suspicious."
"Got it."
"See if Kyler wants to go. Tell him it's a business trip." Carlos deliberately stared at the tip of his cigar and avoided Tyler's eyes.
"Why would I take him?" Tyler asked. "I don't know anything about him."
"Exactly." Carlos responded and looked over at Tyler. "Doesn't the security chief usually know everything before he turns someone loose on our network? Besides, he might actually fix the fucking thing."
"Do I use the house there or a hotel room?" Tyler smirked. "All out or just a business trip?"
"I don't want to know your messy details." Carlos grinned. Tyler flipped him off. "Oh, then you WERE checking him out, weren't you?"
"Fuck you, Carlos." Tyler chuckled and shook his head. "I can't believe Rocky never tried to kill you."
"Who said he didn't?"