Jackal (The End of Men Book 2)

by Tarryn Fisher

  “Well, as it turns out, you didn’t need our help,” Jackal says. “Wish I could say I’m surprised, but there’s something about tiny, angry women on a mission…”

  She manages half a smile, but her mind is far from this room.

  “We need to get you to safety,” he says. “They’re looking everywhere for you. They see you as a danger to their way of life. I’m afraid they won’t stop until they find you.”

  “First things first,” she says softly.

  “What do you need from me?” he asks, looking at both of us.

  “Stay off of the Society’s radar. It goes against everything in me, but I don’t really know where you stand with the End Men, Jackal.” She studies him and then looks at me, and I feel like she can see right through me. “I don’t even know if you want out…” Jackal doesn’t say anything, just stares back, jaw clenched. “I hate asking this of you, but I think you need to do exactly what they expect of you. At least until we can get everyone safely across,” she says.

  I feel a chill and grab a blanket, wrapping it around my shoulders.

  “How did you get mixed up in this shitshow?” he asks. “Did the rebellion find you?”

  “I steal things. Might as well steal for a purpose.” I shrug. “And it’s called the Revolution.”

  “Oh, pardon me. The Revolution,” he mocks. “Come on, little thief, stop trying to pretend you don’t have a heart.”

  I’m thirsty, but I don’t move for the glass cabinet because he’ll think he’s rattled me.

  “I like stealing as much as you like fucking.” I smirk. “We both contribute in our own way.”

  He laughs, arms folded across his chest, eyes wrinkling in amusement.

  “I care about the lower end,” I admit. “The End Men have never been my fight, but it seems it’s all tied together.”

  “And now?” he asks. “Do you care about us now?”

  “Still don’t.”

  “That’s not the impression I got last night when you wanted to fuck me.”

  “Okay, that’s where I disappear,” Gwen says, standing up. “Night to both of you…” She leaves the room looking like she wants to wash out her ears.

  “Uncalled for,” I snap. “I was drunk.”

  “I call it like I see it,” he says.

  “Is that why you’re here tonight? To see what you could get away with?” I glare at him, dropping the blanket to the side because now I’m too hot for words.

  He steps forward and pulls my waist flush against his. I can feel all of him, the hardness in his thighs, the solid chest, the other hardness pressing against my hip. He lowers his head until his lips brush against mine when he says, “I won’t be ‘getting away with’ anything when I fuck you. You’ll gladly let me in.” He leans back and looks into my eyes and my breath catches. His eyes wander down my body and I feel a trickle of sweat crawl down my temple. He catches it with his fingers and my eyes widen when he leisurely licks it off. “I’ve never had to exercise patience before, but you’re worth it. I’ll be right here, waiting, until you can’t function without me inside of you.” His tongue sneaks out and swipes across my lower lip. And then his lips follow so softly, it’s only the barest hint of a kiss.

  My insides quiver and I step back. His eyes are feral, assessing mine. A devastating grin takes over his face and heat gathers between my legs. He grins, knowingly.

  “I hate you,” I tell him.

  I leave the room with his cackle echoing through the hall. It torments my dreams.

  THIRTEEN

  JACKAL

  Flatworms possess both male and female reproductive organs. When it comes time to mate, they fight to see which one will take on which role. Because females dedicate time to their young while the male can simply leave, being in the male role is clearly the most desirable. A mating pair will get in a penis duel, trying to stab the other one and inseminate them first.

  I fall asleep on the couch in the wee hours of the morning and wake up with a kid staring at me. I blink and rub my eyes, looking around. Phoenix’s house, I remind myself. The way the light filters in through the windows I know I’ve overslept. I sit up. The girl looks me over and smiles. She must be older than she looks, the way she’s checking me out.

  “And you are?” I ask.

  She giggles. “Tahira. Gwen told me to wake you up. Said if you have any hope of riding with Phoenix into the city, you better get up now.”

  I stand up and put my shirt on. “Where is Gwen?”

  “They’re finishing with breakfast...also why I’m waking you up. I made pancakes. Phoenix even ate some!” Her eyes shine and I smile in spite of myself.

  “Good work, getting her to eat,” I say under my breath.

  I walk into a kitchen full of women and they pause for a moment but then continue their conversation. It’s disconcerting the way they don’t pander to me. My entrance goes virtually unnoticed. It makes me off-kilter as I take the empty seat at the table. A woman with dreads sits to my left and a redhead to my right. I wave and they introduce themselves. Black market girl smirks at me, always smirking. Tahira lifts the plate of pancakes to me, and I pile a few onto my plate.

  “Thank you.”

  Phoenix has busied herself since I came into the room. She’s already dressed and she picks up her click.

  “You’re trying to leave without me?” I ask her.

  She flushes and fills her travel mug with coffee, still not looking at me.

  I stuff a bite into my mouth and stand up, plate in hand. “Will you please drive me into the city?” I ask her.

  Her shoulders lose some of their rigidity and she looks at me. “Sure.”

  I smile at her and her eyes soften. Gwen clears her throat and it breaks the moment.

  “Be careful, Jackal. Watch your back.”

  I nod. “You too. I’ll be back. We need to work out a—”

  “We won’t be here,” she says. “Jewel is taking us to the border tonight...”

  “Ah, Jewel, finally.” I grin and tip my head toward her. “Are we sure we trust Jewel to get you across the border?” I ask Gwen. “And is there anything I can do to help it go more smoothly?”

  “You know what, if you could cause enough excitement to keep the entire Blue Region distracted for the day, that would really help.” Gwen rolls her eyes. “Somehow, I think you’re capable of that.”

  “Is that a compliment, Gwen? Coming from you, I believe it was.”

  Gwen laughs and after a moment, I join in. I glance at Phoenix and a flash of pain crosses over her eyes. The smile immediately drops from my face. Just when I think I’m figuring her out...

  “I’ll be leaving in ten minutes, if you want to say your goodbyes now,” Phoenix says to me and leaves the room.

  “Do I stand a chance of winning her over?” I ask the table of women.

  “Slim to none,” Jewel says.

  “If you’ll just stop acting like Jackal, maybe,” Gwen says softly.

  I sigh. “Hard to teach an old dog new tricks…”

  The goodbyes are brief. I wish I had a better feeling about it as I say goodbye to Gwen. She is wearing one of Phoenix’s shirts and a pair of gold earrings that dangle beneath her lobes. She looks more like the old Gwen today, which makes me hurt and rejoice at the same time. I wonder if she put on the earrings in anticipation of seeing Folsom.

  “You think he’ll be waiting for me?” she asks, as if reading my mind.

  “I don’t think, I know.”

  She doesn’t look like she believes me. Sophia’s a hot piece of ass, but she’s not Foley’s type. Plus the guy is monogamous as fuck; if he gave his heart to Gwen Allison, that’s where it will stay.

  “Tell Foley hey for me when you find him,” I tell her.

  She blinks and squeezes my arm and gives Phoenix another hug. Something is weighing heavily on her and I wish I knew what it was. I wait in the car while they exchange words. When Phoenix gets in the car, she seems shaken.

 
“You okay?” I ask.

  “Fine. Do you think Gwen was acting weird?”

  “She just escaped from prison and is hiding out in the Blue countryside with a bunch of convicts. I would hope so.”

  “I’m being serious, Jackal. There’s something wrong.”

  “Why didn’t you just ask her?”

  “I don’t know her well enough.” She shrugs. “It’s just a feeling…”

  Her Silverbook hovers and she selects a playlist, the music quickly filling the car and drowning out any further conversation.

  I scratch my chin.

  “Phoenix,” I say, turning the music down. “There’s this thing called communication—”

  “I don’t want to talk, Jackal!” She shoots me a look before turning the music back up.

  I turn it down.

  “I, for one, am extremely stressed,” I start.

  “I’m not your psychiatrist!”

  “First with Folsom missing, and then my damn handler keeps—”

  “Okay, Jackal! Okay!”

  I smile innocently. “Feel free to share, Phoenix. The floor is yours.”

  She glares at me but surges forward, her voice vulnerable. “I’m going to miss Gwen...and the others. It was nice having...people.”

  “People in general or those people?” I ask.

  “I thought I had the floor,” she shoots back.

  “My apologies. Go ahead.”

  “People, and then more specifically, those people,” she admits.

  “You’re lonely,” I say.

  “No!” She stares straight ahead, and I see the way her throat quivers before she swallows. “Yes.”

  “Surrounded by people and yet always lonely,” I fill in.

  She looks at me out of the corner of her eye. “Sure.”

  She tries to play it off, but I’ve hit the nail on the head.

  Before I can press her for more, we’re pulling up to the studio.

  “I don’t have time to rehearse today,” she says. “We’re late, and I have plans. I’m sure you can find your way home from here...”

  “I am your plans.”

  She pulls into a parking garage and parks. When she turns the car off, she turns to face me. “Not today.”

  “Look, how about making this easy for me—you know I’m not afraid to resort to following you.” When she doesn’t respond, I scrub my face with my hands. “Please, Phoenix. With everything going on right now, don’t force me to worry about you too.”

  “You don’t need to worry about me. I have a date with Sean today. It’s been on the schedule for weeks. You’ve had a long couple of nights. Go take a nap before your appointments. You’re looking dusty.”

  “Date? As in a romantic interlude with the governor?” I glare at her. “Where are you going? I don’t trust him.”

  “We’re going to lunch and you don’t have to trust him. He’s my friend. You can back off now.”

  Gwen’s statement about me not acting like me makes me bite my tongue a few seconds longer than usual. Who should I act like? Foley? Maybe Kasper—women seem to like the way he tells them to do things.

  “I order you not to go on that date.”

  She cocks an eyebrow at me.

  “No? That sort of thing not for you?”

  “What the fuck are you even talking about, Jackal?”

  She steps out of the car and walks away without looking back. I’m forced to walk quickly to catch up with her, which makes me even more foul. When I reach her, she comes to a stop and steps up on her tiptoes, lips brushing my ear.

  “How’s that patience working out for you?” she whispers. “You’re not…”

  My breath catches and I lean in for her to finish her sentence a little closer.

  She doesn’t finish.

  “Not what?” I ask. “Not what, Phoenix?”

  She walks away and I’m left staring after her, dick raring to go, and more confused than I’ve ever been in my life.

  “Who’s hunting whom?” I yell and she gives me the bird before going through the door.

  Sean Hennessy. I pull his name up on my Silverbook and the details about his life as governor of the Blue Region fill the first thirty entries. Buried underneath that, I find some pictures of the girls he’s dated, both before and after his change. He was better looking as a girl, I decide, studying the before and after pictures. I’m certain his cock can’t compete with mine, but then again, how would I know? I’ve never had to compete with a man, ever, and it fucking sucks.

  I alert Yvonne to pick me up and go shower at the compound, nearly making myself late for my appointment.

  Usually proud of my work, I’m distracted during my first appointment and accidentally call the woman by the wrong name...twice. She comes hard but seems a little bitter when she tells me to get the fuck out of her bed.

  My second appointment wants to pretend I’m a servant and orders me to crawl on the hardwood floor then mop said floor, naked. As I lean over to wring the water from the mop, she jumps on my back and orders me to service her outside on the balcony. I oblige, all the while thinking of the conversation with Phoenix and Gwen about the End Men. Where do I stand with them? I have to drown out my thoughts and focus on the sensation in my dick. I don’t think about the women—I never do—and they can’t tell the difference. It’s shallow and meaningless, and it gets the job done. They’re faceless bodies that I will never see again, and if I did, I wouldn’t recognize them. I think about the rush, the blood hitting my dick, the few seconds of euphoria that almost make me feel human, until it’s over.

  I’ve always thought that I was empty, not attributing the feeling to circumstance or life.

  As soon as I’m out of there, I set out to find Phoenix. Lunch is long past, but I’ll feel better if I see her. I walk the surrounding area and have no luck. I’m all keyed up from the last twenty-four hours—that’s the only explanation I can give for the insane idea I get. I look through my contacts and find the number I need.

  “Hiyam, hey it’s me.”

  “Is this a booty call?” She laughs. “Because I’m working.”

  “I need a favor,” I continue. “Remember that contact you had, the guy who owns—”

  “Yeah, yeah,” she says. “What do you need?”

  I tell her exactly what I want and I hang up with Hiyam ready to put everything in place.

  It shouldn’t take long to set it in motion; hopefully, I can do my part to be a distraction.

  The walk from the city to the highest point of Azul Bridge is twenty minutes. I’m cheerful as I make the climb, a welcome burn in my thighs. It’s a brilliant day; just enough of the sun and the sky to cause a rush of summer elation. Blue Region is the art corner of the New America. Displayed in the sky toward the city is a looping reel of the things it contributes to the Regions. Phoenix’s image appears, standing en pointe in a tutu before it switches to music and then film. Look here, citizens! Look what we give!

  I stop to take pictures with people who ask, bending down to press my face to theirs. When I reach the top of the bridge, I scan the city below—a city built on another city. There are a few buildings left from before, poking out from among the silver glass like broken, yellow teeth. They mar the yaw of the modern skyline, but in the best of ways. A small crew is waiting for me. I allow them access to my body and they give me the thumbs up. Climbing across the barrier, I sit on the wall and swing my legs over the side of the bridge until my feet are dangling above the water. I’ll wait until a crowd has gathered; God knows I like to put on a good show. The news crews are below, that took them all of five minutes. The fear and excitement are palpable, even from this high up. I double check to make sure everything is in place, and at just the right moment, I jump.

  FOURTEEN

  PHOENIX

  Bonobos are some of the friskiest members of the animal kingdom. These apes are nearly constantly in some kind of sexual activity, even mothers with infants clinging to them.

  “
How are your lessons going with the End Man?”

  I look up from my soup to see a strange expression on Sean’s face. I reach for my wine and take a sip, replacing it on the table before I answer him.

  “He’s surprisingly good,” I say with a half smile.

  I don’t really want to talk about Jackal, but it seems that’s all anyone wants to talk about.

  “That’s because his mother made him take lessons…”

  “Really?” I glance up, trying not to look too interested. “How do you know that?”

  Sean shrugs. “I looked into the guy a little.”

  “Why?” My voice sounds accusatory, but I try to make up for it by smiling at him.

  He makes a face. “We all celebrate these guys, you know? But what do we really know about them?”

  I blink at him. “We know that they’ve given their lives to serve the Regions. Do you really think they deserve a full background check by every citizen?”

  “Whoa,” Sean says. “Not something I was expecting from you. When did you become the defender of the End Men?”

  I fidget with my napkin. “That’s not fair. He’s a human being just like everyone else. His life is on public display. I think he deserves a little privacy in the family department.”

  “Don’t you even want to know what I found out?” he asks.

  I do.

  “What? Does he have kooky family members like the rest of us? Mommy issues?”

  Sean’s grin is self-satisfied. He set the bait and I bit.

  “His mother was some sort of deviant disciplinarian. He was taken from her when a neighbor found him locked and gagged in a closet when he was nine years old.”

  The horror must show on my face because Sean reaches across the table and squeezes my hand.

  “Where did he go after they took him?” I ask. “Family?”

  He shakes his head. “He spent a few nights with a family friend and then his mother got out. She said it was all a misunderstanding and that Jackal was playing a game with the neighborhood kids.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” I interrupt. “They actually believed her?”