Jackal

by Tarryn Fisher

  “Luck,” he says, bending down to kiss me.

  I tilt my head back and let him part my lips with his tongue. And then there are soft, soft lips cushioning the erotic feel of his tongue in my mouth. I moan into his mouth and he pulls away breathless.

  “Don’t do that, don’t do that,” he says. His head is tilted back, away from me, and his eyes are closed.

  “What? What?”

  “That thing. That thing you just did with the noise.”

  I bite the insides of my cheeks to keep from smiling and manage to say, “Okay,” without breaking character.

  “One more kiss,” I request softly.

  As soon as his lips lower to mine, I moan again. I can feel his erection pressing against my belly. I shift my body so that I’m pressing back. Jackal is breathing hard. His kiss moves past recreational and now he’s kissing me like his life depends on it. I gasp when he lets up and that seems to excite him more because he comes back at me full force. I’m drunk with his kisses, my head light and my breathing ragged. His hand slips between my legs and I open up for him, lifting one leg and wrapping it around his waist. He rubs me through my clothes and I forget everything—where I am, who I am—all I can feel are those slow, excruciating circles. I cling to him, frantic for more. He tries to get beneath my tights, but I’m wearing a leotard over them.

  “What the fuck, what the fuck!” he says into my neck. “It’s like you’re wearing a chastity belt.”

  “What’s that?” I ask.

  “Something women had to wear to keep them from having sex. Waaay back.”

  “To keep them from it? Why would anyone not want to have sex?”

  Jackal laughs, the spell broken. He kisses me softly on the lips, his arm leaning against the wall above my head.

  “People didn’t always want to get pregnant, Phoenix.”

  “Take me back to that time,” I say.

  “You should come back to the compound with me tonight. Sleep in my bed.”

  I duck underneath his arm and stare at him. “Are you crazy? We can’t be seen together. Ever. It would wreck everything.”

  “I take lessons from you. I’ve kissed you in front of a room full of people—what are you talking about?”

  “Well, that’s the last time. If we’re going to steal a baby together, we can’t take any unnecessary risks.” I fold my arms across my chest and he watches, amused.

  He pulls my arms down and tugs me close. “You’ve become a very necessary risk that I want to keep taking.”

  TWENTY

  JACKAL

  The male nursery web spider brings a gift to the female. The female checks it out and if she approves, he mates with her while she unwraps her gift and eats it; however, the male often lies. Sometimes he sucks out the food and gives the beautifully wrapped exoskeleton, or even just a twig. When the female finds out the truth, it’s over for the male.

  “You’ve been paying off Yvonne an awful lot. Where are you hiding these days, Jackal?” Selfish asks when she sees me walking past the pool.

  “If I wanted you to know, you would,” I tell her as nonchalantly as I can, heartbeat quickening. “A man needs time to himself every now and then. I’m not hiding; I’m decompressing.”

  She flips her sunglasses back over her eyes. “As long as you make your appointments on time, we won’t have a problem.”

  For once I’m grateful for the lazy-as-fuck handler. Never thought I’d appreciate anything about her, but I’m breathing easier as I walk into the compound. I have two appointments to get ready for, one closeby and the other twenty minutes away. I shower and put on a nice suit for the first, straightening my tie when my Silverbook alerts me to a call.

  I look at the screen and it’s Sean. It’s too bad—I liked the guy when I first came here, and now I cringe every time I hear his name. I swallow my fucking pride and connect.

  “Hello, favorite End Man of the Blue,” he says.

  It doesn’t help that he says things like that.

  “Hello, Governor. To what do I owe this honor?”

  “I’m hosting a small dinner party tomorrow night and wondered if you could join me. I know you must get overloaded with all the parties and events you have to attend, but this one will be low-key, I promise.”

  “I’ll have to check the schedule and see if that’s an option…” I start.

  “I hope you don’t mind, I already cleared it with Selfice and it looks like you’re clear.”

  My temper flares and I check myself before speaking. “I guess I’ll be seeing you tomorrow night then.”

  “Seven o’clock. Come hungry.”

  We hang up after brief goodbyes, and I hit the punching bag I’ve kept in every bedroom since becoming an End Man. Again and again. Until my hand is numb and so is my mind. I need another shower and hurriedly take one, which makes me late for my first appointment.

  “You’re late,” Mrs. Wilson says.

  The other Mrs. Wilson stands in the background, glowering. I suspect the latter isn’t keen on needing me to impregnate her wife. First Mrs. Wilson puts her hands on my lapels and pulls. Okay then. We’ve got an aggressive one.

  “You will have to stay extra.” She tsks and pulls me by the hand.

  “No, I’ll be leaving on time,” I tell her.

  She drops my hand and stares at me. “Are we going to have a problem?”

  “Nope,” I force a stiff smile onto my face. “But I do have other appointments, and I can guarantee an orgasm in ten minutes.”

  She appears to be satisfied with my guarantee because she climbs me right in the foyer, her wife watching. My stomach turns over and I pull back, taking a deep breath. Am I losing my edge? I feel nauseated.

  “Good,” she says. “Because I—”

  “I need you to stop talking right fucking now.”

  She looks alarmed for a moment, but her mouth curls up in a grin.

  It’s a good thing she likes rude because that’s the only way the union is culminated. We make it to the bedroom. I close my eyes the rest of the time, she shuts the fuck up, and we get it done. Well, I get it done. She comes twice, but when I pull out, she’s still bucking and rubbing herself, and she starts squirting everywhere. The fuck. I wipe off my face. Nothing against the act—it’d be fun to see Phoenix explode like that—but seeing Mrs. Wilson squirt makes me throw up a little in my mouth.

  When I get ready to leave, I don’t look at either one of them as I walk past. I see them in my peripheral, standing in front of their ceramic mushroom collection.

  She starts to say something before I open the door and I slam it while she’s still talking.

  I don’t know what’s happening.

  I wish I could talk to Folsom.

  He’s the only family I’ve ever had. He called me a dick when I was being a dick, and he chapped my ass when I shaved my balls.

  It seems like a lifetime ago when I completed my training and the Society handed me over to Folsom, who was to be my mentor.

  “Oh, they are going to love you,” he’d said when he first saw me, that smile of his gradually creeping up.

  Best man I know.

  He was the one who told me the sooner I learned to focus on the task at hand, the quicker I’d get through appointments, because they wouldn’t all be glamorous or fun. And he was right. Sometimes the women are vile, cruel, mean creatures. Sometimes they are kind and thoughtful. But no matter how awful or wonderful they are, it is our job to make them feel valued and important.

  The only person who ever made me question my job before now was a woman who paid me to do it. After we had sex, she lay on her back staring up at the ceiling and said—“It must be awful for you. Having to fake feelings so many times a day. Pretending that you like this when you’re forced to do it.”

  Her words shocked me. I’d never considered that I didn’t like my job. The jet, the clothes, the alcohol, and the luxury—it was given the same way sweets are given to quiet a child. Manipulation masked as generos
ity. The first of us to question our captivity was Folsom and now he is gone. Gwen woke him up, love woke him up. And now here I am falling for Phoenix. It is truly terrifying, my world thrown off its axis.

  I don’t go to Phoenix’s that night. Selfish bringing up my disappearances has me unsteady, and the way I’m careening out of control over a woman has me hugging the whiskey. I wake up with a hangover and feeling extra bitter. I miss Phoenix. That thought sends me back to the punching bag. I’m an asshole at my next appointments and when I get back to the compound, Selfish is waiting.

  “I’ve gotten two complaints about you—one from yesterday and one from your last romp. What’s going on with you?”

  “I need a vacation,” I tell her.

  “Your whole life is a vacation. The End Men don’t get time off.”

  “Exactly. Fix that and I’ll fix my attitude.”

  The Governor’s Mansion is lit up when Yvonne drops me off at the front steps. Every room in the house glows yellow in the early evening light. I arrive at seven on the dot and my car door is opened by none other than Sean himself.

  “I like a man who’s prompt,” he says, shaking my hand.

  We ascend the stairs to the front door in an uncomfortable silence, and right before we get there, the door opens. Phoenix stands in the doorway and I can tell she’s upset. So much for our not being seen together. My steps falter and Sean grips my arm, gently guiding me inside. Despite the nervousness that grips her features, Phoenix is glowing. Her skin is dewy, and she’s wearing her hair long, curled over her right shoulder. Her dress is a transparent gold that hugs every curve. I can see the faint outline of her nipples through the material and my mouth goes dry. Fuck my life.

  “Hello, little thief,” I say quietly. “Can we go somewhere to talk?”

  “Evening,” Phoenix says formally, and then she hisses a horrified “No!” at me.

  She smiles at Sean and I stiffen. I look around for the alcohol, so I don’t make any mistakes, such as ripping the governor’s face off.

  “Come on back, everyone is on the patio.”

  We file toward the back door as Sean leads the way, and I give Phoenix a pointed look. She lifts an eyebrow and steps in front of me, cutting off any further communication. I follow her ass out, watching the way it sways hypnotically. She stops suddenly and I bump into her.

  “What?”

  “Quit staring at me,” she whispers, pointing at the mirror on the wall across from us.

  “Quit wearing dresses like that.”

  Sean turns around and I plaster a smile on my face.

  “Coming?” he asks.

  “At least three times a day,” I say.

  Sean is clearly amused, while Phoenix looks annoyed.

  “Touché,” he says. “Drink?”

  “Our End Man has arrived,” he yells out the door and I hear applause.

  “I thought this was a small gathering,” I say under my breath.

  “It is, it is,” Sean says when Phoenix and I step out.

  Phoenix looks at him sharply and then at me. Five beautiful women are standing around the patio sipping champagne.

  “Oh shit,” I say.

  All of them but Phoenix giggles and I know then that it’s going to be a long night. I take the flute Sean hands over and clink my glass to the women holding theirs out for me. Phoenix avoids eye contact and it’s just as well—I can’t promise I wouldn’t haul her over my shoulder and run if I saw any sign from her that she wanted out.

  “The chef has prepared a lovely meal and I’ve asked Phoenix to dance for us while we’re having the hors d’oeuvres.”

  Phoenix leaves for a few minutes to prepare and when she comes back out, we all watch quietly as she gets into position. It feels wrong: the women, the governor, Phoenix being asked to dance. I eye him over the rim of my glass trying to figure out his angle. I remember what I said to Gwen the first day I met her and feel it more deeply now than ever: we don’t belong to each other anymore. And even more troubling, we don’t belong to ourselves.

  How have we ever been okay with that?

  TWENTY-ONE

  PHOENIX

  To woo a girl, a male hooded seal will blow up a large, bright balloon out of his nose.

  I don’t think Sean intended to make me feel no better than hired help, but that’s the result anyway when he asks me to dance. I say yes reluctantly. I suppose it’s a better alternative to sitting around watching beautiful women crawl over Jackal like ants on a honeypot.

  Sean has arranged a costume for me, and as I slip into a spare bedroom to change, I see his reflection in the mirror watching Jackal, a pensive look on his face.

  When I finish the dance and walk back to the patio, Sean hands me a glass of champagne.

  “That was exquisite,” he says. He motions for me to move closer to him while he whispers in my ear. “I’m just going to come right out with it...”

  He leans back to smile at me and I stare at him nervously.

  “Okay…”

  He motions for me to bring my ear back to his lips, so I do.

  “I heard what happened at the party…”

  I try not to notice the way the busty brunette is touching Jackal while she speaks.

  “What party?” I ask distractedly.

  “The one where you undressed and asked Jackal to fuck you.”

  My head rears back and I look at him in horror. Of course...of course, word of that got around.

  “I was drunk,” I say.

  I study his eyes carefully and note the way his skin slightly flushes.

  “But you want him.”

  My eyes narrow and I back up, weighing my next words carefully.

  “Did you invite us both here so you could...watch us?”

  I don’t want to do anything to shake what I’ve built with Sean. He’s been a friend over the years, but the prospect that he did something so...deceitful makes me furious.

  “I did,” he admits. “I wanted to see if there was anything going on between the two of you.”

  “Sean…” I sigh. “He’s an End Man. What could possibly be going on between us?”

  “Phoenix, it’s no secret that I have feelings for you. I’d like to be able to make plans for us, but I need to know where your head is.”

  “My head? Sean, you could have asked. That’s the normal way to find out what’s in someone’s head.”

  Jackal is watching us from across the way. I sweep my hair in front of my face and turn my head away from him. I’m hoping Sean doesn’t notice the way my skin flushes when the topic of Jackal comes up.

  “Sean, listen…” I try to arrange my words before I spit them out. “I value our friendship,” I say. “You know that, right?”

  “Are you breaking up with me before we’ve even started going out?”

  I take his hand. I want to shake him.

  “I don’t want to ruin what we have. And I am a very, very bad girlfriend. Ask Lex.”

  I decide to do what I do best, which is evade.

  “I was drunk that night. Very drunk,” I tell him coyly. “And I quickly came to my senses.”

  He looks surprised and slightly disappointed. “So...you don’t want him?”

  I shake my head and step away from him, looking at his expression over my shoulder. “Let’s not let that dinner go to waste.”

  He smiles and tilts his head to the side. “First time I’ve ever heard you make food a priority.”

  I hold up my glass. “Touché.”

  He laughs harder and then motions for everyone to follow him to the table. A tall candelabra sits in the middle of a round table, so tall that when we sit, we can still see each other underneath the flickering candlelight. Greenery surrounds the base and each place setting has a little rose attached to the place cards. My name is between Sean and Jackal. I swallow the unease, hoping Jackal will behave himself and not cause Sean to be any more suspicious than he already is. I need him to trust me if I want to get to the Red Region.
My guilt for using Sean has subsided in light of this entire night. It seems I’m not the only conniving one at the table.

  I lean forward to see who is seated next to Jackal, my nerves grating when it’s the most attractive of Sean’s dinner guests, a statuesque woman with blond hair to her waist and boobs out to the Purple Region. Sean is very attentive, attempting conversation with me, while all I can do is eavesdrop on Jackal and blondie.

  Jackal suddenly yelps and when I look over, the girl’s hand is cupping his balls. He looks at me, wide-eyed, and I pick up my glass and guzzle.

  Halfway through dinner, Jackal’s Silverbook alerts him to an urgent message. I see his face drop as he reads it before he stands to his feet. The woman jumps up too, possibly thinking he’s going to fuck her right here, but he holds up a hand and it stops her from coming any closer.

  “I’m so sorry—” He holds up his Silverbook. “I’ve just received word that there’s an emergency. I’m needed back at the compound.”

  Sean sets his napkin on the table and stands up. “Is there anything I can help you with?” he asks.

  Jackal is already shaking his head.

  “Thank you for dinner. Ladies…” He looks around to those of us seated at the table, offering a little bow.

  Sean offers Jackal his hand. “No apologies necessary. Good luck with whatever it is.” He sounds sincere, probably because he no longer thinks Jackal is a threat.

  I thought it was an act, but Jackal’s anxiousness is convincing.

  “Jackal, are you okay?” As soon as the words are out, I put my hand over my mouth.

  Jackal shakes his head, his eyes worried. “I have to go.”

  Sean’s eyes narrow and my heart starts thumping. He can see right through both of us. He looks at me and his mouth tightens.