Josie whipped in front of me, butting her chest into mine. If I hadn’t been so shocked, I would have been turned on. “Leave me alone and go ruin someone else’s life.”
“Spoken like a woman who doesn’t want a man like you putting anyone in their place for her.” Lifting his eyebrows, Colt steered Josie and himself away from me.
They made it a few steps before I slid in front of them again. I wasn’t letting them leave with Colt’s hand still wrapped around Josie’s forearm and with her a few drinks in and wearing that dress Colt had been eyeballing all night. I knew what had happened the last time Josie got drunk when a snake was around, and I wouldn’t let it happen again when I could stop it.
“Fuck off, Black.” Colt’s ever-cool facade was finally crumbling. I was getting under his skin, and when a normal person would have backed off, I kept going.
“You want to hit me?” I said, lifting my arms. I almost wavered in place—probably because I was swimming in whiskey. When Colt shook his head, I cut him off. “Of course you do. You’ve wanted to hit me since the first day of high school when all the girls were more interested in me than you and all your money.”
“I don’t want to hit you.” Colt had managed to collect his cool again, although Josie was picking up where he’d left off. If she could level me with one punch, I didn’t have any doubt that I’d already be horizontal and blacked out.
“You might not want to—which I don’t believe for one goddamned second—but before we part ways tonight, you’re going to hit me.”
From over Colt’s shoulder, I noticed Brandy mouth Take it outside. We weren’t going to make it another step if he didn’t take his hands off of Josie, let alone outside.
For the second time that night, Josie got in my face. Instead of a punch, she almost leveled me with her expression. “Why don’t you stop pretending to be the hero and own what you really are? The villain. Go villainize someone else’s life. You couldn’t possibly do anymore to mine.”
Josie Gibson had just gotten under my skin. I should back up, raise my hands, and surrender, but I couldn’t. Something about having her under my skin, even though it wasn’t the way I might have liked, was a drug for me. One I couldn’t say no to. “How about this? I’ll stop pretending to be the hero when you stop pretending you’re actually interested in this eunuch in a cowboy hat.”
“Ever heard the phrase ‘it takes one to know one,’ Black?” Josie crossed her arms and managed to narrow her eyes farther.
“I have, but I don’t see how it applies. You ought to know, with our history and all, how much of a eunuch I’m not. I might be wrong, but I’m pretty sure a eunuch couldn’t make a girl come the way I made you a while back.” That was when the slap came. I was braced for it—it didn’t surprise me—but it stung just the same.
“Go to hell.”
“I’ve been standing in it for twenty-one years, Josie.”
Colt moved to her side, and when he grabbed her forearm, he gave it a good tug. “Come on. We’re out.”
“Ouch,” she snapped, trying to pull her arm from his grip. “Ease up a bit, Hulk.”
What I did next I didn’t think about. It was all instinct. When Colt Mason tugged on Josie’s arm, my fist driving into his jaw was my reflex. It wasn’t enough to land him on his ass, but that had less to do with Colt’s ability to take a hit like a man and more to do with the amount of whiskey in my bloodstream. Josie’s hands covered her mouth as she gaped at me like I was a monster. That was exactly what I was, but at least Colt’s hands were off of her.
“What the hell, Black?” Colt spat, rubbing his jaw.
I lifted my finger in his face and fought the urge to deck him again. “That was because you put your hands on Josie.”
“I’ve put my hands on her plenty of times before and never got clocked across the face.”
That was the wrong thing to say. Before I knew it, my other fist was driving into the other side of his jaw. That was my reflex to Colt Mason insinuating his hands had been on Josie in that way. The way that made me almost as furious as imagining them on her in a harsh way. “There! That’s for all the times you put your hands on her before.”
Colt gave his head a swift shake and moved Josie aside as he moved closer to me. “I’m going to—”
That time, my punch was planned. I knew what I was doing before my knuckles crushed into Colt’s jaw. “And that was because you irritate the shit out of me.” Spitting on Colt’s pristine boots, I shoved his chest. “Go back to California and leave Montana to the real men. Pansy-ass poser.”
Judging from the look on Colt’s face, I couldn’t have paid him a greater insult. I moved Josie aside—who was in front of him fretting over him like he was dying—right before Colt charged me. It was about time I got a reaction out of him.
Colt’s first punch landed square on my nose—a true cheap shot—and gauging from the crack, my nose had broken for the third time. Colt’s next punch sank into my stomach, and when I curled, he drove his knee into my jaw. I went down. I didn’t try to move or lift my hands to shield my face when Colt’s fists came at me one right after the other. I didn’t fight back. I didn’t protect myself. Not because I incapable of doing it, but because taking a good beating every now and again did me good. Some people prayed, some did a cleansing, some took a vacation. I did a solid beating. It reminded me I wasn’t invincible and somehow that reminder made me stronger.