Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Josie
Blood soaks the sawdust as a bull gores its victim. The horn sinks into the doughy abdomen and digs around until it comes up red as roses. The man is already dead; his neck broke after the first toss into the air.
“Damn, we’re out,” Frankie says to Maverick. “I thought I picked a good one, too. He looked so athletic.”
Before the first event, Jim allowed us to bid at an auction. We each purchased the Cattle we thought could best survive in a battle royale match with a bull. Last team breathing will be declared the winner.
“The bidding started at five hundred Madigan Moneys,” Maverick says. “We all thought he was a shoe in.”
“What do we do with our leftover Madigan Moneys?” Josie asks.
Quinn giggles and holds out the paper currency Jim printed last week. His grinning face adorns the central oval, and on the back, Kenny flies over a pyramid. He spent a month finalizing the design with himself.
“He fucked up, and I’m cashing in,” Quinn says. “Look at the fine print on the front.”
Aven takes the bill from her hand and squints at the tiny letters. His concentration shifts into a smile. “I’ll be damned, she’s right. It says, Jim Madigan will honor this currency as legal tender.”
I snatch the fake money from him and read the lettering, and he’s correct. Poor Jim. He’s going to hate this. It was certainly supposed to say he would not honor the currency.
Another cheer rings through the crowd as Eve’s choice flies into the air and lands on the railing surrounding the arena.
Jim covered it with razor wire in case any Cattle tried to escape by climbing over the top.
The silver points turn the victim into a bloody mess of skin and exposed muscle.
He drops back to the sawdust, still breathing.
“I’m not out yet, honey!” Eve shouts. Popcorn flies from a red-and-white box in her hand as she stands and bellows for the bastard to hide.
King and I hold our breath as the brindle beast charges toward our Cattle, but our guy leaps out of the way, and the bull snags Kindra and Ezra’s idiot instead.
The animal gets the man on the ground and bends its massive legs to bring the horns closer.
The pointy end sinks under the soft part of the man’s jaw and tears off the lower mandible.
It hangs from his face as he scrambles backward, screaming.
I lean closer to King. “We might have to try out our new arrangement tonight,” I whisper. “All this animalistic retribution is doing something to me.”
Seeing him in blue jeans, a brown cowboy hat, and boots is helping as well.
“Not until I’ve made certain you won’t get hurt again.”
“You really think highly of yourself.” I huff and shake my head.
“You were a lot of firsts for me, and when you left, I didn’t know what to do with that.
But with time, I realized you had it right.
We have fun together, but we never would have worked as a couple. We’re better as . . . fuck friends.”
“Good. I’m glad you see it that way.”
Walking away from him won’t be easy, but I can do it. Again. And this time, it won’t take five years to learn how to breathe.
Our Cattle won’t be walking away from anything, though. I grimace as the bull gives him a bellybutton piercing that travels into his chest cavity. Ouch.
“Damn,” King groans. “I thought we’d chosen a proper winner.”
“Join the loser’s circle,” Maverick says with a sigh.
“Since we’re out, could we go see the horses?” I ask King. “Might as well get ready for the next event.”
King nods, and we excuse ourselves from the bleachers. Our guy isn’t dead yet, but he’s well on his way. We pass him as we head toward the stabled horses, and I give him a scoff.
“Did your mother ever tell you what a disappointment you are?” I say down at him as we keep walking.
King laughs. “You couldn’t go without a parting jab, even as the man lay dying. Haven’t changed a bit.”
That’s where he’s wrong, and one way or another, I’ll show both him and myself.
Sue is a fine horse, and I feel like a goddess on a golden beast as she raises her head and pricks her ears at our targets banging around inside a stall in the distance. I lean forward and give the mare’s neck a stroke. She paws the sawdust, ready to get this show on the road.
The arena stretches before us. At the far end, a wall of weapons waits for the Cattle penned a little further down.
When Jim fires his gun, their chute will open, giving them a head start.
We’ll have to run them down and take care of them before they reach the wall.
If we can’t, we risk taking them on with nothing more than a rope, while they’ll have whatever they chose from the selection of weapons.
“You know, we could turn around and ride out of here,” King says. He sits atop a bay gelding named Slaughter Circus Sam. At least the name isn’t lame. “We don’t have to do the event.”
“And miss getting to take a one-of-a-kind kill?” I shake my head. “No way. We’re doing the event, and then we’re going to dinner, and then we can discuss our arrangement before I possibly let you fuck me raw again.”
“It’ll be more than a possibility,” King grumbles, “or there will be no deal. I’m not only here for your satisfaction. I’d like some of my own.”
I give him my most adorable, pouty face. “Aw, is someone getting a nasty case of blue balls?”
“Just focus on not falling in love with me after each orgasm I give you, hmm?” He straightens out his horse, who’s started turning away from the gate we’re meant to run through.
I roll my eyes and look forward as Jim motions toward us, asking if we’re ready. King isn’t, but I sure as hell am. I give him a nod.
“Think you can do that, my beauty?” King grunts as Sam wedges his leg against the metal railing, but I hardly hear him over the sound of a gunshot and the chute ripping open.
With a wide grin on my face, I hold on tight as Sue shoots forward. The two men in yellow jumpsuits race toward the gleaming wall of weaponry.
I target the man on the right, sparing a glance behind me to be sure King is on his way toward the other guy. When I realize he’s still struggling to get his horse turned around, my stomach drops. I’ll just have to do what I can and trust that King can take the asshole, weapon or not.
With a banshee-like scream and wide eyes, I leap from the horse and collide with a large body.
This is the Cattle roping event, so I’m forced to subdue and kill my quarry with nothing more than a lasso.
I don’t know how to tie a slipknot, let alone hogtie a man twice my size with nothing more than a stiff rope, but I know how to hang on tight and hope for the best. It’s kind of my life’s motto.
Another war cry blows from my lungs as the man falls to the ground.
I straddle his back and pull the rope around his neck.
I lack the upper body strength to apply enough pressure to kill him, so I stand and hold the rope as I wait for him to get upright again.
The rest of my plan won’t work if he’s on the ground.
King sails past in a rush of wind. My heart sinks again when I realize what a mess he’s in. He jumps off the horse and sends the animal away with a smack on its ass, clearly trying to protect it from whatever comes next.
Because his Cattle has reached the wall of weapons.
There’s no way for me to help him. My target has regained his wind and is getting to his feet. I have a small window of time to properly set myself up for this kill, and I can’t miss it. I can only hope King is still the badass he was five years ago.
As my Cattle rises to his full height, I leap onto his back, keeping an ironclad grip on the stiff rope around his neck.
He turns his attention to getting me off his back instead of removing the rope from around his neck, which is currently slack.
Idiot. If he’d pushed his fingers beneath the bound fibers, it would have prevented what comes next.
Gripping both ends of the rope, I leap again and sink my feet into the depressions above each of his hips.
Growing up in a family of circus performers has its benefits.
All the years of trick riding pay off as I balance myself and lean backward.
My weight pulls the rope taut, and the ride of a lifetime begins.
The man realizes what’s happening, so he turns in circles and thrashes his arms. He’s too panicked to think. I exert very little energy in this position, so I can strangle him as long as he stays upright and away from my lower half. He could easily rip me off if he only grabbed my legs.
I close my eyes and tip back my head and laugh as the crowd lets out a cheer.
But the moment of joy doesn’t last. A gasp silences the spectators, and as I turn my head, I see why. King’s Cattle currently brandishes a pistol.
“No!” I scream, but I can’t let go of the rope.
The last thing King needs is yet another angry brute to contend with. I have to do my part and keep this one occupied.
My heart picks up its rhythm as King freezes, hands held out. He’s still too far away to close the gap and take the gun, but a bullet at that distance would be fatal for him. He’s at a serious disadvantage, and as the man below me spins around, my line of sight disappears.
I’ll just have to get this finished as quickly as possible.
I tighten my grip and jump off this asshole’s hips. My feet slam against his spine. Pain shoots up my shins. With everything I am, I lean back and tighten the rope. He finally reaches for the rough fibers, and as he begins to lose consciousness, he goes to his knees.
Fuck.
That takes away my leverage.
Frantic, I ram my slender arm beneath his neck and put him in a proper choke. He’s weak enough that I can finish him this way so long as he gets no air. Even a sip of oxygen would be enough to power him on again.
We’re still facing away from King, so I’m forced to use my ears to understand what’s happening behind me. I don’t dare let go.
The crowd gasps again, and I close my eyes. A loud bang rings out, followed by a scream. My arm renews its hold. I can’t lose focus, no matter what’s happening behind me.
“Would you hurry up and die so I can help him?” I scream into the Cattle’s ear.
His feet kick behind him, dragging deep tracks through the sawdust. Blood fills the whites of his eyes—proof of my desperation. He looks up at me, but he doesn’t see me anymore.
The crowd shouts, and I don’t know if it’s for me or King. God, I hope they’re cheering for him.
The Cattle finally stills beneath me, but I don’t let go. King taught me that you can’t. The body keeps trying to live for several minutes, and it’s important I don’t give out before his heart does. My arms ache and my hands quiver, but I tighten my fucking hold and grit my teeth against the pain.
I don’t let go until his chest stops tensing for a breath I won’t allow him to take.
As soon as I’m certain he’s dead, I scramble off my target and turn to run for King. I stop in my tracks and heave a sigh of relief. Instead of lying in a pool of blood, he’s straddling his Cattle and choking the life out of him with his bare hands.
Beside him lies the pistol. A flag sticks from the barrel, with BANG written across it in all caps.
I hurry over and land a solid kick into the side of the struggling man’s skull. His arms fall to his sides, making King’s job a bit easier. A few minutes pass, and it’s done.
Drenched in sweat, the two of us turn toward the cheering crowd. King takes my hand in his and raises both into the air. We smile and take a bow as staff members hurry into the arena to clean up the mess and get things set up for the next duo.
But as I smile up at King and he looks down at me, chest heaving, I don’t think we’ll stick around to see the rest of the show. That gleam in his eye tells me we won’t even make it to dinner.
The ache between my legs only solidifies my certainty.
We exit the main arena at a leisurely pace, but as soon as we hit the shadows, we run toward the farmhouse without looking back.