Page 19 of Cruel Games

With nothing to ease the tightness in my pants, I opted to head for the stairs leading to the second floor. I could watch the crowd from the balcony and maybe spot the girl currently making walking next to impossible for me.

Forearms resting on the railing, eyes on the floor below, my search was still in vain an hour later. Either she’d snuck off with someone while I was looking in the other direction, or she was so good at hiding she’d just disappeared. I sighed and flagged down a waitress, ordering another drink for the hell of it. When she brought it back, I downed half of it in one go as I pondered my fucking existence–and that girl.

I still couldn’t get her out of my head, though. A girl like thatdoesn’t just walk into your life every day. Someone as eye-catching, as head-turning, as delectable and confident as her was a rare find in a town like this. Missing my opportunity might very well haunt me for who knew how long.

I downed the rest of the drink in my hand and wandered to the bar, my head only slightly less achy than before. The renewed presence of booze in my system had muted the headache and stopped the world from spinning, but now I was on the fast track to right back where I started.

But that didn’t make sense. I had only had three drinks. I was no lightweight, either.

What . . .

. . .

. . . shit.

Had I left my drinks unattended at any time? Had I turned away for even a second and allowed someone to spike it? But why the hell would someone bother to spikemydrink? And who would have cause to even try?

Knowing time was limited, I pulled my phone from my pocket, the words and numbers on the screen already swimming. Frantic, I scrambled to unlock it with my thumbprint and pulled up my recent call list.

And presseddialon Jackal’s number.

Ring, ring, ring. Ring, ring, ring.

Fuck. If he didn’t pick up?—

“What the fuck doyouwant, Dingo?”

He sounded like he was in the middle of doing something, but whether it was a contract or a slut off the streets, I didn’t care. This was now imminently more important.

“Roofied. Fuck, come get me. I’m at–”

“Swizzle Sticks, yeah, I know.” He paused for a moment, then sighed. “Get in a bathroom stall and lock the fucker. I’ll be there soon.”

He hung up before I could ask him how he’d known where Iwas without me telling him. As the bathrooms came into sight, I felt the last little bit of control over my muscles leave my body, and I tumbled to the floor in a heap of my own limbs, which steadfastly refused to cooperate with the commands I was giving them.

I gave into the darkness a short while later, as I swore a silent prayer that nobody came this way before Jackal got to me.

Maybe he hadn’t been overreacting after all.

SEVEN

IVY

“Jesus,Dingo, did they drug you or shoot you with a tranquilizer gun?”

Around the corner from where I now stood were the men I planned to kill. Men who had consumed far too much of my life. Men who didn’t deserve to be walking around tonight, breathing up the air of more worthy and deserving people.

People like my father.

I grimaced as the images of his last minutes alive raced through my skull, layered over the assholes on the other side of this wall talking, their voices unchanged over the years it’d taken me to find them.

If I were you, I’d turn that gun on myself and make it quick.

“Come on, Dingo, how quick did those roofies kick in, bud?”

Nothing keeps a dog like me down.

“You’re so fucking heavy, man. I’ve gotta set you down.”

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