35. Jackal
THIRTY-FIVE
JACKAL
Two bars and an insurmountable mountain of shots, mixed drinks, and bottles later, the four of us stumbled down the sidewalk, heading for the Guild. Dingo’s feet kept getting tangled up in each other as he tried to put them on the wrong side of his stride. Coyote had consumed only a few of our drinks and, as such, was stuck babysitting us like a parent corralling his errant, willful children.
Ivy was the worst, though.
Ever since she’d gone to town on that fuckwad’s face for insulting her, there had been something off about her behavior. She was reckless, uninhibited, and wild, living like someone had put an expiration date on fun. For every shot I threw back, she took two. For each mixed drink I sipped on, she sucked down hers and then finished off mine. And for every beer that Dingo popped the cap off, she managed to con him out of at least a quarter of it, swinging the empties around with a hollered whoop and a belch I’d expect from one of the guys, not a woman.
And she kept on going until the bartender called last call and demanded we pay the bill.
Gods, that woman could fucking drink.
“Hoo boy, the world is spinning,” Dingo muttered, his hand hitting the wall for a millionth time that night. “Gonna need to take five and get my bearings.”
“No time to stop, silly mutt,” Ivy sang, her words punctuated by a hiccup. “Gotta keep going.”
“Aw, shut up,” I muttered, grabbing my head to stop the spinning. “You’re giving me a headache, and I’m not even hungover yet.”
I’d drunk far more than this before. But drinking with Ivy was an experience. I felt lighter than a normal drinking binge, and in this state, I could be honest with myself and admit a few things I might not be so keen to admit when I was sober.
I could also keep my mother fucking mouth shut, too.
Maybe.
“Coyote, maybe you should throw her over your shoulder again. She was so much quieter when she was upside down.” Her ass looked damn good, too.
“If he does that, I’m liable to make a mess of the back of his shirt,” she said with a little hiccup, grinning like a tomcat with his field mouse prey in his sights. “I can walk just fine.”
As if to punctuate her point, she tried to spin on a single foot and managed to stick her heel in a crack in the damn concrete, effectively losing her balance. She toppled right into me, giving me no time to think as my arms circled her waist and kept her face from meeting the ground.
Woulda been a shame to see such beauty go to waste.
“Watch it, ya drunk ballerina,” I muttered as she turned her face up and scowled at me. Not a hint of appreciation for my gallantry in those deep, soulful blue eyes.
“Who said you could put your hands on me?”
Like she was repulsed by the very thought of any part of me touching her, even to help her.
“Fair point,” I said, and just like that, I let go of her, letting her fall on her ass on the hard sidewalk. “Next time, I’ll let your face break your fall.”
“You’re an ass,” she spat, pouting up at me though she tried desperately to make it look like a scowl.
“And your ass is the best part of you,” I taunted, hands on my hips, nose in the air as she huffed in annoyance.
“Ugh, you’re a pig.”
My smile widened. “According to you, I’m a dog. Changing your mind already, kitten?”
“Ugh.” She rose from the ground with Coyote’s help, dusting off her dress with all the haughtiness of an offended princess. “I hate you.”
“Feeling’s mutual,” I grumbled, stalking ahead of her with the intention of locking myself in my room and sleeping off the bullshit hangover I could feel building in the back of my head.
I got ten feet before her attitude and the sheer audacity that made up eighty percent of her whole being caught up with me in the form of a challenge.
“You know, I should kick your ass for dropping me on the ground.”
Slowly, my body turned to behold her in all her drunken splendor: a single strap of her dress falling off one shoulder, hair coming out of the messy bun she’d tossed it up into at the last bar to aid her in her quest to out-drink me, her lipstick slightly smeared from all the glasses she’d deposited it on.
I knew she just wanted a rise out of me. Knew damn well this was a ploy to get me to engage, so she could?—
What was her aim, exactly?
“You couldn’t kick your own ass in the state you’re in.”
“I bet you I could.”
Well, I wasn’t about to miss out on that opportunity. Still, my moral compass kinda frowned on kicking a drunk woman’s ass, even if she did ask for it. “I don’t make a habit of hurting women unless they deserve it?—”
Her fist came flying seconds later and caught me utterly off-balance as those tiny knuckles connected with my lower jaw.
Fuck!
She could throw a mean right hook.
“Damn, bitch,” I muttered, holding the side of my face. “That fucking hurt.”
“That’s the fucking point, asshole,” she slurred, her fists up like a side character in a street fighter game. “Now, either fight me or admit you’re a pussy.”
“I’ll put my money on Ivy,” Dingo taunted, “fifty bucks says she can take you.”
Which, of course, only made me wanna double down more. “You want me to beat on a woman while she’s drunk? ”
“Just tire her out, man, then you don’t have to hit her.”
The option was a good choice. She’d likely not last long before she passed out anyhow. Hell, she could hardly walk straight as it was. Maybe I’d get lucky.
“What’s in it for me?” I asked her , putting my own fists up to answer hers. “What kind of a bet do you wanna make here?” I glanced around at my partners. “You already own us.”
“Yeah,” Dingo shouted, a little too loudly for as close as he was. “Make it worth our while.”
“What do you want?”
My smile widened as I realized she’d left the door wide open for the horses to run out of. “Our freedom.” The sharp glare in her gaze made me wonder if I was too optimistic. “Unless you think there’s a chance you’ll lose.”
“You’re on, dog.” She took a halting step forward but hesitated at the last second. “But what do I get if I win?”
“What do you want?” I tossed back at her, knowing there wasn’t much she could possibly get out of us that she didn’t already have. Assuming there was no way I’d ever lose to a stumbling drunk woman. “Name your price.”
“I want everyone to know whose dogs you really are.”
I didn’t understand, but did it really matter? She wouldn’t win, anyhow, and I’d be buying our freedom with this easy victory. “Deal.”
She reached her hand out to shake, and I leaned forward, taking it in my own.
I didn’t see it for the trap it was until it was too late.
Ivy tugged me forward by our shared grip, jerking my whole body past hers and opening me up to several cheap shots she could have taken. I closed my eyes and tried to duck and cover, hoping to avoid the worst of the blows. Instead, I just kept going past her as she spun around and planted her foot on my ass, and shoved me the rest of the way .
I’ve never been so embarrassed about landing face-down in the dirt in my life.
Fuck.
Absolutely the fuck not. No way was I letting her have this fight so easily.
Her arms crossed over her chest as she stared down at me, a sly smile on her lips in obvious silent challenge. Those perfectly shaped eyebrows curled in an upward arch as she watched me regain my footing, obviously fighting the urge to laugh at me.
She could laugh if she wanted to. I wasn’t about to let it bother me.
“Is that how we’re gonna play it, bitch?” I dusted my palms on my pants and growled in warning. “Be careful toying with a wild dog. They’re liable to bite.”
And with that veiled threat, I lunged, planning to take her down without even needing to land a single punch. My hands came up from side to side, barely an inch away from connecting with her each time. The rapid movements and close calls had her on the defensive, exactly where I wanted her.
When she took another step backward, I leaned into the movement and shoved her on her ass, turning the tables completely around from where we had been moments ago.
The disheveled, drunk firecracker stared up at me with fury and indignation from her seat on the ground. “You’re such a prick, Jackal,” she groaned, rubbing her hip as she stood again. “And you’re going down.”
I chuckled at her bravery, her confidence, however misplaced it might be. “Bring it, kitten.”
And holy fuck, did she ever. Her fists flew faster than I even thought possible, at least half of them connecting with various parts of my body. After about the fifth punch to the gut, I started fighting back, blocking her moves with moves of my own and then countering with punches I pulled to make sure I didn’t hurt her .
I didn’t want to actually harm her, as much as I hated her. I just wanted to teach her a lesson. And hell, if we won our freedom, then she could go back to whatever fucking life she had outside of tormenting us, and I wouldn’t have to share my damn bathroom with a space hog anymore.
She was deceptively wobbly on those heels because the second it became serious, all indications of her inebriated state were gone in a flash. It was like she’d turned off the part of her brain the alcohol made woozy, tapping into the little bit of cognitive function she had, forcing it to work for her in the only way that mattered. Off to the side, Coyote and Dingo watched with wide grins and wider eyes. I even saw Dingo tug a second bill out of his pocket and wag it in Coyote’s direction.
The fucker grinned as he met my eyes. “Twenty more says she drops him in the next ten minutes.”
“Double or nothing,” our usually silent partner grumbled, adding his own bill to the growing stack on the ledge they leaned on.
“You’re on.”
Ivy cleared her throat, the sound of her heels tapping against the concrete in annoyance a distraction that reminded me I was supposed to be fighting, not watching the other two turn this into a betting ring.
“Are you forfeiting the match, Jackal?”
My scowl turned into a vicious grin. “Not on your life.” My feet slid apart as I hunkered down and brought my hands up in front of me for defense. “You’re going down, kitten.”
She didn’t wait for an invitation this time. Her grin widened as she lunged for me, fists up, closing the distance like a pro. Punch after punch came for me, landing on my shoulder, my ribcage, my gut, but never with enough force to hurt me. And like a switch had been flipped in my brain, I began to desire that pain, to want her full force coming at me, taking out her rage and her anger and indignation on me like she’d done to that man in the club.
I wanted her to hurt me. Because I remembered what it felt like to not have an outlet for that pain. For the self-doubt and anger at the world for telling you that you’re not enough.
And I could take the pain. I’d still win, but at least she could get something cathartic from the exchange.
“That’s right, hit me,” I mumbled every time she got close, “harness that anger. Embrace the rage. Make it your bitch.” Her next swing landed on my bicep, and this time, it stung a bit more than the last one.
“There you go!” My smile was almost too wide for my face, and with every landed punch, my cock twitched in my pants, warning me that there was something fundamentally fucked up in me for wanting this pain, letting it arouse me. “Keep it going. Show me what you got, kitten.”
“Stop calling me that!” Her voice cracked as she pulled her top half back, surprising me with a perfectly executed roundhouse kick to the side of the ribs. The damn thing had so much power behind it, I wouldn’t be surprised to find out she’d broken a rib or two. Still, I wheezed through the pain and kept going, raising my hands to defend as she snapped just like she did in that club and went all-out on me.
Hell, I hadn’t even known she had so much in her to get out.
How broken was this bitch underneath that mask of indifference and superiority she wore daily?
As her breathing grew labored, her moves slowed, and I took the opening that fatigue created, landing a few blows of my own on her arms, aiming to unbalance her so I wouldn’t have to knock her out. Maybe she’d trip and do it herself.
Of course, life would feel the need to team up with karma to truly fuck me at that moment. Just as I leaned forward to throw another punch, she dodged to the side, and my momentum kept me going, sending my ass flailing over the short retaining wall separating us from the nearby river.
I hit the water with a splash, and if it weren’t for the alcohol in my veins, I’d have likely frozen to death in the water as I shivered and swam for the shore.
The Dread wasn’t that deep or dangerous at this time of year, not on this side of town, but the current could really kick your ass if you let it. I wasn’t in any shape to fight the damn pull, but if I let it carry me downstream, I’d likely end up dead. So I fought it, hoping I could get to the wall and grab onto something before I passed out.
Or froze to death.
Instead, I watched as Ivy came flying over the wall in a full dive, her hair flying behind her like a damn banner, her body barely disturbing the water as she hit it head-on. I watched in awe as she surfaced beside me, throwing her arm under mine as she dragged us both to shore, the swim looking deceptively easy for such a dainty person.
When we reached the wall, Dingo grabbed my arm and yanked me up and over, dumping me on the ground like a fish on the docks. Coyote retrieved Ivy, who seemed none the worse for wear aside from the fact that she resembled a drowned rat now.
I opened my mouth to thank her, but her next words stopped me dead in my tracks.
“Maybe next time, try to lose less dramatically. If anything’s taking you out in this life, it’ll be me.”
My jaw snapped shut in indignation. And I’d been about to thank her for saving my life. How could she be standing here making jokes ? —
“Fuck you, bitch.”
She shrugged as Coyote wrung her hair out, and Dingo draped a flannel shirt over her shoulders that he’d had wrapped around his waist. “Maybe later. ”
My jaw hit the ground at her audacity. I had no words to describe how cocky, proud, and dominating she sounded with that single sentence. I wanted to wrap my hand around her throat and choke the life out of her. I wanted to shake her until some of that common sense rattled free. I wanted?—
— to misbehave until she put her hands on me again. To taunt her into a good, rough fucking. To have her step on me so I could thank her for the privilege.
What the ever-loving fuck was wrong with me?