Page 93 of Cruel Games

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 withthe 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?—

Whatwasher aim, exactly?

“You couldn’t kick yourownass in the state you’re in.”

“I bet you I could.”

Well, I wasn’t about to miss out onthatopportunity. Still, my moral compass kinda frowned on kicking a drunk woman’s ass, even if shedidask 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.

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