Page 8 of Cruel Games

Musta lifted them off some dead body from their last hit.

Bitch had the nerve to lift her nose in the air as I walked by, like I stunk or something.

If I’d been in a better mood, I mighta let it slide. This time, I was feeling frisky, and my hands itched to beat someone’s face in. And Bonnie might be a bitch, but I wasn’t above making itherface if she looked crossways at me again.

“Don’t even think about it, Jackal,” Dingo muttered as we walked by, a hand on my shoulder to remind me he was willing and able to keep me from doing what was so obviously on my mind.

Too bad I didn’t answer to him.

It wasn’t like she didn’t ask for it.

“Stupid dogs,” she muttered under her breath as I passed within inches of her stupid face. “Stink like trash and act like it, too.” She huffed like our very existence was an insult to her senses. “Woof woof. Fucking mutts.”

I was a lot of things, but a mutt?

Nah.

Bitch, I waspedigreefor crying out loud.

I hadlineage.Papers.

I was primo stock.

I didn’t think about what I did. It took exactly zero logical thought to pivot on my heel and swing my fist at her, landing it neatly in the cartilage on the side of her nose.

Bloodpoured.

“You fucking prick!” Blood ran in rivulets over her splayedfingers as she cradled her now-broken nose, staring at me like she couldn’t fathom a man had hit her. “You broke my nose!”

“I’ll break more than that if you open your mouth about me again, you got that?” Dingo was actively tugging me away from her, but I stood my ground, hoping the bitch got the hint.

“What kind of man hits a woman?” Her loser half, Clyde, came around the front of the car with another wad of cash in his hands, this one messy and already handled. Likely, the goon counted it three, maybe four times before he stuffed it in a pocket somewhere on his grimy body.

“Hey, it’s not my fault your bitch opened her mouth.” I held up my hands as Dingo dragged me away by the collar, grinning like a loon at the two idiots we left in our wake. “These hands don’t discriminate. They’re equal opportunity ass-beaters.”

She might not be laughing, but I sure was.

All the way to the fucking wash station inside the old mudroom Lilly customized when she bought the place.

He tossed me forward by my collar, aimed at the big trough with a water hose, a grimace on his face. “Clean yourself up, motherfucker. And keep your mouth shut for a change.”

I wasn’t about to let him tell me what to do, even if he was right. I probably shouldn’t have hit the bitch. And I knew I could have kept on walking. Bonnie just wanted to get a rise out of me. She liked to get a rise out of anyone she could needle to death with her shrew-ass mouth.

And I was easy pickings.

She was lucky I didn’t like the taste of drug-addled asshole, or I woulda taken a chunk out of her skin instead of smashing it in.

I didn’t realize I’d said it out loud until Dingo turned the hose on me with a frustrated sigh.

“You’re an idiot,” he muttered to himself, his eyes like slits zeroed in on me as he soaked me to the bone. “A huge idiot.”

“And you’re a dick,” I retorted between choking gasps for air. “Atinyone.”

Coyote muttered to himself as he stormed past us both, washing his hands of our antics with an eye roll. He might not be big on words, but damned if the fuckstick didn’t communicate just as well without them.

I tossed a middle finger over my shoulder at him and grinned back at Dingo, earning me another blast of cold water to the face.

Ah, what a lovely trio we made.

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