Page 134 of Wild Card
“Yeah? I hope you’re meeting someone about the venue we need.”
“Listen, about that…”
“Fuck off,” he said, clearly reading my expression. “What the hell is wrong with you?” He grabbed my neck, pressing his forehead to mine, hissing, “It’s easy money, man. Ace wants more action, and he’s got atrust fund.”
“I can’t do it right now.”
Or maybe ever.
Jett narrowed his eyes. “You still too busy fucking that sheriff’s deputy?”
“He’s about to become the sheriff. I can’t bring that kind of heat down on him.”
He drew back, eyes wide. “Tell me you’re not saying what I think you’re saying, man.”
I shrugged. “The gambling shit was fun, but I’m done.”
He slapped the bar next to my drink. “Fuck that! You’re choosing a fucking pig over me?”
I laughed. I didn’t know why I did it, but there was something about his provocation that was exactly the outlet I needed.
All my pent-up nerves spilled out as I sneered at him, blood firing up.
“Why wouldn’t I? You’re a lunatic who’s probably gonna end up in prison or dead in the next five years.”
His expression turned thunderous. That crazy gleam I’d seen in his eye so many times before—directed at others—was now flashing right at me.
“Say that again, you pig fucker!” he snarled.
I hesitated a beat. I should really defuse the situation. It wasn’t my first instinct, but I wouldn’t be doing myself any favors if Dalton walked in on me brawling with fucking Jett.
“I’m sorry if it seems like I jerked you around,” I forced out.
“So, that’s it? You’re done with me and Sully? You’re choosing the cop. You’re gonna be a law-abiding citizen. Stay home in the evenings and make him dinner before you suck his dick?”
Irritation flared. “I’m not Betty Crocker. I’m just not looking for trouble anymore, okay? It’s not personal.”
I grabbed my beer and attempted to step around him. He blocked my path, jabbing me in the chest. “Maybe it’s personal that my friend is a fucking traitor.”
I knocked his hand away. “We’re not friends, man. We’re chaos partners. And that shit is done for me. I want something better.”
“Oh, ’cause we’re not good enough for you.” He shoved me back a step, causing my beer to slosh all over the floor. “We’re not yourrealfriends.” He shoved me again, knocking the bottle from my hand. It hit with a clunk and rolled across the floor, trailing beer behind it.
“You think you can just walk away, knowing everything you know,” he carried on, “and sleep with a fuckingcop?”
He got up in my face, so close that I reacted on instinct, shovinghim. “Back the fuck off!”
“What have you told him, huh?” he snarled. “You gonna sell us all out so he can be the big bad man in uniform?”
“It’s not like that. I wouldn’t?—”
“You’re a fucking narc!” he bellowed, not listening to a word I said. Beyond reason. I knew what was coming next, and I jerked to the side.
I wasn’t fast enough. Jett’s fist clipped the edge of my jaw, sending me staggering.
The pain broke the chains I’d wrapped around my temper. With a growl, I launched myself at him, both of us going down with a clatter of chairs.
There was a gasp and a startled cry from other customers, but I couldn’t worry about them. Jett was a rabid fucker, and he fought dirty.
