Page 5 of Subduing the Shark

"In those little shorts?"

"Yes."

Dresden grinned. It wasn't a kind expression. "I bet you looked pretty. How many guys grabbed at you?"

Jack's jaw tightened but he kept his face blank. "A few."

"And you just let them?"

"I didn't have a choice. It's my punishment."

"You had a choice when you picked up the phone and called the cops on your own shiver." Dresden leaned forward, elbows on his knees. The television played behind him, some nature documentary about ocean currents that Jack knew Dresden wasn't watching. "We lost three good sharks because of you. Dale, Mako, and Paulie are sitting in prison right now. Do you know what shifter prison is like for sharks?"

Jack knew. Isolation cells because no general population facility would risk housing sharks with other species. It was holding, but worse. At least Jack's facility had a window.

"They're alone because of you," Dresden said. "And the elders haven't forgotten. The only reason you're still part of thisshiver is because we need the body count. Fifteen isn't enough to hold the territory we've got. Fourteen was too thin. So you're back, and you'll contribute, and you'll remember who your family is."

Jack nodded. "I know who my family is."

"Do you?" Dresden stood. He was taller than Jack, heavier in the shoulders. Not faster, but he didn't need to be faster when the rules said you had to fight and the outcome didn't matter if you lost. "Prove it."

Jack's stomach dropped. He'd expected that. Had braced for it the entire walk home. The shiver challenge. You fight, you lose, you take what comes. That was the contract you signed by being a shark, the dues you paid for belonging.

"Pick someone," Dresden said.

The front door opened behind them and Rashe came out of the hallway in shorts and nothing else, rubbing his eyes. He must have heard them talking. Small, wiry, quick. Behind him, Lichen's door stayed shut. Still out.

Jack looked at Rashe. He was the better option. Dresden would drag things out, would want Jack on the floor longer than necessary, would make a point of taking his time because Dresden enjoyed the display of it. Rashe just wanted to get off and go back to sleep.

"You," Jack said to Rashe.

Rashe shrugged and stepped forward. Dresden sat back down on the couch to watch.

Jack threw the first punch because not fighting was worse than losing. It was a bad punch and he knew it before his fist was halfway to Rashe's jaw. He was tired, his body still humming with the unfamiliar tension of the club.

Rashe sidestepped and landed two fast jabs to Jack's ribs. The same ribs. Every shark in the house knew where Jack was weakest and they all aimed for the same spot.

Jack tried to recover but Rashe was already behind him. A kick to the back of his knee sent him down. His knees hit the floor hard and the impact jarred up through his spine. He was on the ground. That was it. Fight over.

The silence that followed was the worst part. The moment between losing and what came after, when the winner decided how they wanted you. He kicked Jack in the ribs, twice, and Jack cried out before he could stop himself.

"Fucking snitch," Rashe snarled, then went back to his room without a word. Dresden was still on the couch, watching the ocean currents on television as if nothing had happened.

"I'm surprised he didn't do more," Dresden said idly. "I was expecting more of a show, for old times sake if nothing else. You always were good for entertainment, little traitor."

Jack got up. His ribs throbbed. His knees were sore from hitting the floor. The rest of him felt like it always felt after a challenge. He went to the bathroom to clean up, then to his room.

His room was exactly as he'd left it three months earlier. The shiver hadn't touched his things, which surprised him. They could have gone through everything, thrown out what they wanted, claimed the space for storage. Instead the bed was still made, his few possessions still in their places. A book on the nightstand he'd never finished reading. A glass of water that had long since evaporated, leaving a ring on the wood.

He lay down and stared at the ceiling.

At the club, Amani had jumped on the bar and told a room full of people not to touch him. At the shiver house, Rashe had knocked him to the floor and hurt him without another thought.

Jack had lived in the shiver his entire adult life. He'd grown up with challenges and the ritual that followed them. He'd endured hundreds of nights exactly like this one and he'd never questioned it because questioning would have meant admittingthat the foundation of his entire world was built on pain and fear.

He lay in the dark and thought about Amani's voice carrying over the music. About the hoodie and the way Amani pulled at the hem when he was nervous. About how the person Jack had helped break was the only person who'd stood up for him.

His phone was gone, confiscated when he'd gone to holding and never returned. No clock in his room either. The house was quiet. Even Dresden had gone to bed. Jack lay there in the silence and tried to find the blank space he usually retreated to, the place where he didn't have to feel or think or remember.