Among the Mountains, Ch 4
By Kim
After Gillian Snow kicked her ass for the second time Isabelle left the city of Denver. She left her men and Jordan behind. She took a horse and rode up toward the mountains until she found a small town and rented a cabin from the man who owned everything there. The town was in a ravine next to a rushing river. For the first week Isabelle sat in her cabin and drank every night and every morning she awoke to the rumble of the river. The walls of the cabin were bare and the only furniture besides the single bed was a table next to the window. She drank whiskey and watched the horses and occasional car pass by and then late at night the only sounds were howling wolves and the water endlessly passing her by. The seventh morning she was in the town Isabelle lay in bed thinking about her trip north to ready new lands for her sister Alejandra to exploit as she had her husband. She had fucked up that chance and then been beaten and humiliated by the ice blonde beauty and now she was in a shithole town with a pounding headache.
That afternoon she went to the town’s bar. There were a few men drinking quietly and the owner who had sold her bottles of whiskey when she first arrived was standing behind the bar. He was an old man, bald and potbellied, and he was smoking a pipe. He was likely the only man in town who could afford tobacco and he studied Isabelle as she approached the bar and puffed smoke up above her head. The December mountain air was cold to her and Isabelle was wearing tight pants and a blouse with long sleeves that for all that put on her display her female body. The owner’s name was Castle and the bar was called Castle’s Inn. As a young man he had built it himself and he had been there since. He and his wife lived in the house next to the bar. Despite the name the bar had no rooms or beds and it was but the bar itself and the storeroom behind the bar. Isabelle sat in front of the old man and he poured her a glass of whiskey without speaking and she drank it.
After her third glass Isabelle asked him if he had ever wanted to leave this small town. Castle eyed her and then he emptied out his pipe and clamped it between his teeth again. “What’s out there that I wouldn’t have here?”
“The rest of the world,” Isabelle answered. “Where I’m from we have cars running in the streets and police and a fire department. And a school, for those who want to go.”
“The world is fucking gone. And good riddance as far as I’m concerned.”
“You don’t like police?”
“Just someone else with a gun, from what I can tell.”
“And someone to put out fires?”
“We try not to start them.”
Isabelle held her empty glass and studied him. “You’re a rather clever sort, aren’t you?”
“I’d say I’m middling. But I’ve been standing at this bar for nearly sixty years. And my grandfather had a bar in a town a week north of here. He told me what it was like, when everything broke down. There used to be a lot more people in the world. The world your lot wants to bring back. I know why you came here. People still talk, all the fuck out here. Came up here to bring us oil and your police and schools. It used to be, there would be a foot of snow on the ground right now. Now we get rain all year. And when the oil stopped coming, the food stopped coming. And then the people started dying. But before they died they killed each other for their food. And then they blew each other up for food. And then they sacrificed each other, just for the shit of it I guess.”
“The world’s always been a shithole.”
“And we’re living in the middle of it. Why the fuck do you want to dig deeper?”
“I don’t have anything better to do,” Isabelle answered, and then she ordered another drink.
A blonde entered and came around behind the bar. She was a bit taller than Isabelle and very pretty, with a thin nose and refined jaw. She had an athletic body with firm, capable arms and legs, and her shirt was cut low to show off her modest chest. Her hair was a sandy color to match her tanned skin, and she wore it long and loose. She gave Isabelle a dark look and then took a pitcher of beer from next to Castle and he pointed at one of the tables of men.
“She seems lovely,” Isabelle said.
“That’s Jeri. She’s a good worker. Half an hour early, actually.”
“Seems like a good bitch.”
Castle grunted. Smiling and swaying her hips, Jeri took the pitcher to the men, who were playing cards and yelling at each other. When she put the pitcher down, she laid a hand on the shoulder of one of the men and joined in their laughter. Isabelle watched as she flirted with the men and one of them gave her a coin as tip. Jeri took the coin and slipping it into her pocket turned and locked eyes with Isabelle and then the two women looked away. Jeri visited the other tables and then she returned to the bar. She asked Castle if they had any lemons and he left and went next door to his house to see.
“Seems you’re drinking alone tonight,” Jeri said to Isabelle, putting her elbows on the bar and leaning forward so that her face was in front of Isabelle’s. “Having trouble, honey?”
“Just looking for a nice shithole to throw myself into. Your town seemed like a strong contender.”
“You think you’re pretty tough, huh?”
“Toughest girl in town.”
“It’s a small town.”
“You have a problem with us?”
“Not all of you. Castle seems nice. And the cat who sleeps outside of my cabin has been decent enough to me.”
“But the rest of us?” Jeri whispered, leaning in close.
“Have been a bunch of silly cxnts who are used to being the prettiest cow in the ugliest herd.”
Jeri grabbed her hair and bounced her forehead off the bar. When Isabelle regained her senses she was lying on the floor of the bar, looking up at the faces of the men who had been playing cards. One of them was holding Jeri by the arms and she wriggling to get free and dive bodily onto her. The cardplayers helped her to her feet, and Isabelle spit in Jeri’s face and then threw a gold coin onto the bar and stumbled out the door and onto the street.
The rumble of the river was loud in her ears when Isabelle awoke the next morning. She turned and pressed her face into the old, harsh pillow and wrapped the blanket tighter to her naked body. The pounding was inside her head and out, and she lay still and listened to the water tumble over the rocks and mud outside. Later she paid the neighbor to bring her soup and venison and she went back to bed. The next day she left the cabin and rode her horse down the broken road that led away from Denver. In half an hour she found a road that led her to what had been a neighborhood of large, wealthy houses. They were now collapsed or nearing collapsed and she spurred the horse down the street. Rusted cars lined the streets. In the middle of an intersection were three large army trucks, arranged in a semicircle. The trucks were broken and smashed open and still lying on the ground were the skeletons and the last bits of clothing. All the rest had been taken by scavengers decades before.
Isabelle sat the horse next to the trucks. The house on the corner next to her had been struck shells and there were holes in the walls and the roof was gone. Turning her head the other direction the entire row of houses had burned and she could see the bottom half of a skeleton protruding from under a fallen brick wall. The horse kicked under her and a hawk screeched overhead. Isabelle came down off her horse and entered one of the abandoned houses. The floor creaked underfoot and in the living room the floor had opened up into the basement and when she looked up she could see a cloud passing overhead through the second floor and the attic and the ceiling. In the garage she found a car standing on rotten tires and when she forced open the trunk she found canned meat that had popped open and jars of green mush and sitting on top of the food two shotguns that fell apart when she picked them up. She sat on the hood of the car staring at the wall of the garage and she thought about how she had tried so hard to live her own life and now she would live someone else’s.
The day after her ride, Isabelle went into town. She was wearing long pants and a revealing blouse and men turned to look at her as she walked along the street. The town was little more than a row of stores and the farms surrounding them, and Isabelle went to the grocery store at the far end. The river was rumbling, down the slope on her left. Its clear water looked cold and Isabelle wanted to float away and she felt that she already had. At the grocery she bought apples and oatmeal and fresh milk from the elderly woman who gave her a cold smile as she paid, and she was eating one of the apples as she sauntered back down the street. A handsome young man, tall, wearing black pants and a leather jacket, was walking toward her, and they smiled and nodded at each other.
“They have apples today, huh?” he asked her.
“Fresh. Very good,” Isabelle answered.
“I suppose old Mrs. Smith finally agreed to the new prices. She held out for nearly two weeks, but if the farmers all won’t sell to you, what do you do?”
“Well, you could have one of the farmers executed as an example. Bring the rest into line.”
They stared at each other and then both laughed. “My name’s Daniel,” he said, offering his hand, and Isabelle shook it and smiled at him, tucking her hair behind her ear as she did.
“Get your fucking claws off of him, slut!” Jeri yelled from across the street. She came storming toward the two of them, her blonde hair flowing in the wind.
“Jeri, we were just talking,” he sputtered.
“Shut up, asshole, and get back to our house,” Jeri said to him. She came right up and butted her chest against Isabelle’s, looking down on her. “I thought I made myself clear the other night. I want you to take your stupid face and your cow tits and get the fuck out of my town.”
The two women stood nose to nose and then smirking, Jeri turned and began walking away. Isabelle took the bottle of milk out of her cloth sack and poured its contents over Jeri’s head. When the blonde turned, rage spreading across her face, Isabelle slapped her across the face. Jeri hit her back and then the two of them seized each other by the hair. They turned in a circle, bent at the waist, pulling hair, and then Jeri began smacking her in the head. In response Isabelle yanked down on the head and then drove her fist up into the pretty face. The blow stood Jeri up straight and Isabelle dove into her and the two of them fell to the dirt. They fought with ferocity and hatred, rolling over each other, pulling hair and slapping faces and grabbing and clawing at feminine bodies. At last Isabelle got on top and she slapped her back and forth. Jeri reached up and squeezed her much larger breasts through her shirt. Isabelle howled in pain and scrambled clear of her.
The two women rose to their feet. Jeri threw a slap but Isabelle took it and hit her back. Jeri stumbled, spinning away, and Isabelle seized her by the hair and turning in a circle flung her back to the ground. She hit hard and snarling Isabelle threw herself onto her. They tumbled in the dirt again and then they came back to their feet holding onto each other. They threw ineffectual punches into each other’s stomachs and sides and up into breasts as they twisted and turned still in each other’s grasp. With a surge Isabelle drove Jeri backwards and into the side of one of the stores and then stepping back she slapped her back and forth across the face. The blonde shoved the brunette away and sliding down the wall walked away from her. Isabelle planted her foot on the blonde’s ass and shoved and put her face down into the dirt. Then growling she took hold of the other woman’s shirt and lifted her up and then hauled her to the side of the road and flung her down the slope. She tumbled down and went into the river and Isabelle stood over her watching and then she followed her into the water.
Jeri was on her feet again by the time Isabelle reached her. The water was to their thighs and they had difficulty gaining a foothold on the slick rocks of the riverbed and the speed of the current. They fought in the river water, punching and slapping each other in the face and body. They came together and fell apart again, putting each other under and when they came up their wet shirts clung to their bodies. Isabelle could sense the people of the town watching from above them. The two women fought and Isabelle punished the blonde, hitting her and ducking her blows or taking them and hurting her and she could see the panic and fear coming into the other’s eyes and she took pleasure in it. A strong punch put the blonde down in the water and when Isabelle moved forward to hold her she turned away and clambered onto the other bank. Isabelle followed her, shrugging off the weak kicks Jeri threw at her, and then they were back on the dirt of the other side, on the dirt of some farmer.
Jeri was not finished. She hit Isabelle sharply on the face and Isabelle hit her back. They circled each other. Jeri hit her in the face and Isabelle threw a punch into her stomach and then hit her in the breast. Jeri grunted and diving forward tackled her into the dirt. Their wet shirts came apart in the melee. Jeri got behind her and squeezed her large breasts, but Isabelle elbowed her and got free. Turning she dove back into the blonde and put her down in the dirt and as they hit she could feel the strength leave the woman under her. She mounted her and slapped her back and forth and then put her hands on her throat and choked her. Jeri hit her face and pulled at her hands and hit her breasts but she endured all of it to keep choking her and she stared down into the other woman’s eyes as she did. When Jeri’s eyelids fluttered and her hands flapped wildly in the air Isabelle let go of her and pushed herself to her feet and staggered back to her cabin, leaving Jeri beaten on the ground behind her.
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Jordan had continued fighting in the ring at Hard Shots before Isabelle left Denver and after she was gone and she would continue fighting after Isabelle’s return. She had fought three women the Logans had matched her with, two big bruisers and a slender redhead, and another woman who had seen her on display in the bar and challenged her on the spot. And while Isabelle was gone she had been in charge of the men who were left. Most of those men spent their time drinking and fighting with her at Hard Shots and some had taken to rolling the drunks and weaklings in the alleys. There was no military where Jordan had grown up and she had never before spent time with army men but she found that she got along with them. During the day they played checkers and at night they drank and flirted with women at the bar and roamed the streets. After Isabelle had been gone for two weeks the Logans arranged a fight for Jordan with a woman from one of the towns nearby. This woman had made a name for herself fighting and she was a great looker as well. The Logans would set their ring in the middle of the street and Jordan would earn enough from the take that she could live on her own for some time.
Jordan could hear the crowd cheering outside as she walked through Hard Shots and past the empty space where her ring had been. When she stepped outside they roared and yelled her name. In the ring was an Asian woman, Michelle. Michelle was a stunning beauty with toffee hair that hung in straight lines down onto her back. She was pacing back and forth, her hands clenching and unclenching in claws. She wore skintight jeans and she was barefoot and she wore no shirt. Her breasts were large for her frame and ethnicity and firm and they stuck out from her chest, tipped by impressive dark brown nipples. She was nearly as tall as Jordan although the Asian woman was leaner in her shoulders and thighs. Jordan climbed into the ring with her, dressed the same in tight jeans and barefoot and topless. The women stood in their opposite corners staring at each other and then the referee called them into the middle of the ring.
The women stood in front of each other while the referee went over the rules: no biting, no breaking bones, three minute rounds until one woman yielded or was unconscious. For this match, they had added another stipulation: Submissions would only be allowed between rounds. The referee asked if both women understood the rules of the fight and both nodded. They were both breathing hard and staring into each other’s eyes. Jordan with scorn and anger and Michelle with some combination of focus and grace. Without speech they stepped back and then the referee called for them to join and they came together again with their hands up, their breasts and hair swaying as they circled, their feet stepping lightly over the canvas and their legs and hips tensing and flexing under their jeans. The crowd yelled the names of Michelle and Jordan and yelled incoherently and the fight was started.
Jordan threw a punch and Michelle got under it and hit her with a hook into the stomach and then another in the breast and then she was back out again before Jordan could respond. The blows were harder than Jordan would have expected from the leaner woman and she came in more carefully this time. She threw another jab but as Michelle moved Jordan anticipated and hit her on the cheek with her other hand. Michelle started backing up and Jordan followed her. She grabbed Michelle by the hair and flung her into the ropes but then when she moved in to punish her further Michelle kicked her in the thigh and then slipped away. Jordan followed the busty Asian around the ring, throwing jabs and hooks. She hit the other woman in the face twice but not with any force and once the other woman clipped her in the eye with her fist. At last Jordan backed her into the corner and she rushed into her and the two women pulled each other’s hair but the bell rang to end the round.
Jordan came out hard for the second round. She cut Michelle off as the other woman tried to sidestep her and the two came together. With arms clutching at their backs and pulling hair the two women, now sweating and grunting and breathing hard, turned in circles. At last Jordan twisted her hips and sent Michelle through the air and she came down on her. Michelle landed on the bottom and Jordan crashed on top of her but before Jordan could take advantage she was sliding out from under her. The two of them rolled around on the mat, pulling hair and punching at each other. Jordan got on top and slapped Michelle and backhanded her across the face. But before Jordan could mount her Michelle arced her back and hips and bucked her off and then rolled her over and got on top. Michelle hit her slapped her back and forth across the face and then she punched her in the breasts. Jordan grunted with each blow and reached up to grab Michelle’s breasts, the brown spheres dangling over her. Michelle caught her hands and the two women struggled like that until the bell rang.
Both women came out for the third round more slowly. Wet hair hung over their faces and their stomachs and chests heaved with each breath. Michelle jabbed her in the face and the stomach and then skipped to the side before Jordan could grab her. The two women circled again and then Michelle hit her in the face but this time Jordan caught her with an overhand right that put the Asian beauty on the ground. Michelle was hurt and as she tried to roll away Jordan stamped her foot down into the small of her back and then she kicked her in the side. Michelle moaned and held her ribs and Jordan yanked her up to her knees by the hair. Michelle hit her in the stomach but the punch had no force and Jordan slugged her across the face and put her down again. Then she dragged her to her feet and threw her into the corner. Michelle crashed face first into the post and sagged against it. Jordan followed her, hitting her in the small of the back and in the back of the head. Then she slid her arms under Michelle’s pits and locked her hands behind her neck in a full nelson. She wrenched the other woman out of the corner and held her straight up, the pain in her eyes and her breasts swaying as Jordan shoved her around the ring. And then Jordan bending her forward dragged her chest over the harsh ropes from one corner to the next. The bell rang and Jordan dropped her and went back to her corner.
When they came out for the next round Jordan was grinning but Michelle had the same focused look as she had when they faced off during the referee’s instructions. Jordan came forward with her hands up but Michelle’s were down low at her waist. Jordan threw a jab at the beautiful face but Michelle dropped down and then turning she kicked Jordan in the stomach. Jordan fell to the canvas holding herself, unable to breath, and Michelle fell next to her in hardly better shape. The two women lay on the mat together, staring into each other’s eyes, their breasts shaking as they struggled for breath and their faces and torsos covered in sweat. And then Michelle moved before Jordan was able. She slapped Jordan across the face and punched her in the stomach. Jordan waved a hand but Michelle kicked her in the thigh and the back from the mat next to her. Jordan moaned in pain. Then Michelle slid her leg under her and rolling her locked her legs around Jordan’s waist and squeezed with tremendous force. Jordan pulled at the legs but she did not have the energy to free herself. Michelle grabbed her breast and clawed her from behind and pulled her hair and Jordan feebly pulled at her legs until the round ended.
Jordan and Michelle came out again for another round. Jordan’s hands were down by her sides and she was sucking in air. Both women’s bodies and faces were raw and bruised, their hair tangled. Michelle’s eyes were still clear and focused but Jordan’s were dull with fatigue. Michelle hit her across the face and Jordan took it but she could not respond. Michelle beat her, hitting her in the face, breasts, stomach, knocking her around the ring and then at last Jordan fell to the mat and Michelle straddled her. She mauled her voluptuous breasts, driving in her fingers, and the woman groaned in pain under her and waved her hands weakly and then Michelle hit her across the face back and forth until Jordan’s hands fell to the mat. The referee waved his hands, ending the fight, and he pulled the victorious woman off of her beaten opponent. Michelle stood in the middle of the ring, glowing in her triumph, her majestic body raw and sweaty, her firm breasts rising and falling, as she raised her hands overhead to the roar of the crowd.
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When she returned to the city, Isabelle thanked her men and with an equal portion of her remaining gold paid them and dismissed them. None of them offered to stay in her employ. Some arranged to travel back to Mexico and some joined the Snows and some sat in bars and drank and whored with their new wealth. Her man Guillermo told her that she had fallen far from her family and what her sister expected her to be and then he told her that he thought this was a positive development and that he had done things for Isabelle’s sister that he would not speak of and that he would not forget. Isabelle asked him why he had not told her about this sooner. He shrugged and said that it had not been clear to him that she was interested in not being the kind of woman who did terrible things. Isabelle replied that it was not clear to her still. She told him that she had one last requirement of him and he agreed. After speaking with her men, she and Jordan spent one last night together and then Jordan used her purse from her fight with Michelle to invest in Hard Shots. She would continue to fight in the ring there and she had begun to bring in younger women to fight and she aimed to become a manager.
When her other business was handled Isabelle used the last of her gold to find out Gillian Snow’s whereabouts. Donald Snow had gone to Kansas on business and Gillian was by herself. Isabelle thought about going to her house on a Sunday, when it would likely be empty and confronting Gillian. Just the two of them alone; how beautiful the blonde was and the stunning body she had, the magnificent clothing and the mansion she lived in. And then she thought of how Gillian had thwarted her attempts to establish herself here and now she had hated Isabelle from the first time they had met and Isabelle thought about how much she hated Gillian and how good it would feel to embarrass her in public. By spreading a little gold around she discovered that the next weekend was Gillian’s birthday and that she and her girlfriends and her new boyfriend were having dinner in the private room at the nicest restaurant in town.
She dressed herself in a brown sleeveless blouse and a white miniskirt. The blouse showed off her spectacular cleavage and her nipples shown through the fabric. The skirt was drawn tight across her hips and thighs and in the mirror she examined her high, chiseled cheekbones and the sharp tight lines of her nose and eyebrows and chin. She had new brown sandals and it had taken her the entire week to find these new clothes around the city since she had discovered Gillian’s plans. She shook out her hair and let it land softly on her shoulders and she told herself that she was the most beautiful woman in town and she was going to prove it tonight against Gillian. And then she left her rooms and went to the restaurant with her man Guillermo in tow. She bribed the security man at the front door and the one who stood watch outside the private room and then she entered and found Gillian with her new man and her old friends.
Gillian was sitting at the head of the table with the boyfriend to her right. There were glasses of wine and salads in front of them and the room was lit by a chandelier hanging from the vaulted ceiling. Opposing the long table was a sitting area with a couch and chairs. Her best friend Olivia was sitting to her left, and three other women were with her as well, all with men of their own. Gillian saw her as Isabelle entered the room and she stood up immediately and Isabelle saw her take note of Guillermo who stood at the door. She was wearing a tight blue blouse and purple skirt that showed off her body, just as well-formed as Isabelle’s. Her blonde hair was long and beautiful as were her cold blue eyes. Olivia was staring at her with hatred but she remained seated. The guys and the other women were looking at each other and seemed confused.
“You dumb low-class bitch!” Gillian screamed.
“I wanted to wish you a happy birthday by kicking your ass in front of your friends.”
“I’m sending you home naked and bald,” Gillian snarled. “I don’t want any of you to interfere.”
The boyfriend said that she couldn’t be fighting in public and Gillian told him to shut up as she came around the table. She and Isabelle circled each other, slipping off their shoes, like two great cats ready to sink their claws into each other. On some unheard gong they leapt at each other. Isabelle hit her across the face and the blonde hit her back and then Isabelle closing in hit her in the stomach and then seizing her bodily slung her into the wall. Gillian hit hard but when Isabelle rushed her she was ready and throwing herself forward tackled her and they went down to the ground together. Isabelle got on top and slapped her in the face and then felt herself being turned over. Gillian grabbed her by the hair and bounced her head against the floor and Isabelle sank her fingers into the bountiful spheres of her firm chest and Gillian howled in pain. She slapped Isabelle again and the women were churning over each other in a writhing mass, chests and faces pressed together and hips and thighs grinding. They pulled hair and punched and clawed at each other’s gorgeous bodies.
At last they came apart and got to their feet. Gillian slapped her across the face and Isabelle hit her back and then hit her in the stomach and hit her again in the face. The force of it spun Gillian around and Isabelle fell onto her back and bore her down so that they were both kneeling on their haunches. Isabelle ripped open Gillian’s shirt from behind and ravaged her breasts. Gillian gasped and drove her elbow back into Isabelle’s stomach. The Latina was hurt and the ice blonde got free and turning still on her knees hit her across the face. Isabelle was knocked to her side and when she started to get back up Gillian hit her again and knocked her back down. Standing over her now Gillian ripped off Isabelle’s shirt and threw it aside and shrugged off the ruins of her own shirt and the two women were left in their skirts with tears up the sides from their fighting. Then she pulled Isabelle up by her hair and drove her face and chest into the wall and then when she hit pulled her backwards by the hair and put her on her back on the floor.
“Get up, slut,” Gillian taunted. “I’m going to hurt you worse this time.”
As Isabelle was getting to her feet Gillian threw a kick at her face but she caught it and yanked Gillian’s feet out from under her and the two women were brawling on the ground again. Their fingers clamping on hot flesh and faces and bodies grinding. Isabelle got on top of her and sitting across her stomach slapped her face back and forth. Gillian grabbed her breasts and squeezed and Isabelle replied in kind. The women sighed and moaned. The blonde’s hands felt like vices clamping down on her assets and Isabelle pressed all her body weight down as her fingers dug farther into Gillian’s own beautiful spheres. Gillian gave first and letting go of her hold she pulled at Isabelle’s hands, stamping her feet on the ground and howling in pain, and then she bucked her hips and yanked her head to the side and threw Isabelle off of her. Isabelle hit the ground and turned sitting on her ass and when she saw Gillian on her knees clutching at her breasts Isabelle kicked out with legs. Gillian fell to her side.
“Come on, I thought you wanted to fight,” Isabelle gasped as she got to her feet.
At the prompting Gillian glared at her and bracing herself against the table got up. Their beautiful faces and the tight lines running down their abdomens to where the tatters of their skirts began and below such fabric their muscular thighs. The two women came together again. They threw wild slaps and punches and hit each other in the face and chest and stomach, their hair whipping and sweat flying off their bodies and grunting and both women stumbling around the room as they fought. They stopped and stood before each other and then Gillian threw a punch at her face. Isabelle dodged it and came back and hit her in the face and then she dashed forward shoving her in the chest and running her through the door and they burst into the main dining room. There they fell to the floor next to each other and lay panting. The customers had heard the noise of their fight and knew Gillian was involved and what her family could do and most had left and the few remaining made no move to interfere.
Isabelle tried to crawl on top of her but Gillian kicked her away. Gillian was getting to her feet and Isabelle climbed onto her back but Gillian hit her in the head with her elbow and then while Isabelle was stunned Gillian shoved her away. Gillian stood leaning on a table and Isabelle coming up from behind pushed her face down onto the table and hit her in the back and stomach and then hauled her upright and punched her across the face. The blonde went crashing through the table to the floor and Isabelle followed her. She kicked her in the stomach and the legs and Gillian curled up to protect herself and then turned over onto her stomach. Isabelle took advantage and she dropped onto her back and punched her with wide hooking blows in the back and sides and the head. Gillian grunted and moaned at the punishment. Isabelle stopped hitting her and sat on top of her gasping for air and when she looked up Guillermo and Olivia and Gillian’s friends were all staring at the two of them. She smiled and posed flexing her arms but then Gillian reared up and rolled herself free.
When Isabelle got up the blonde was facing away from her. She grabbed her shoulder but Gillian turned into it and came around with a wild slap that hit her with a vicious thwack. Isabelle was spun around so that she was facing away and then Gillian crashed into her and they fell to the ground. Isabelle got back to her hands and knees but the blonde was still behind her and with one hand she yanked Isabelle’s head back by the hair and with the other she grabbed her breast like she was milking an udder. Isabelle held back the scream that she felt inside and she reached back and found Gillian’s hair and she pulled her forward by her hair and the two women ended in a ball rolling back and forth on the floor. Isabelle found herself on the bottom with the blonde punching her stomach and breasts and then she was on top and she was holding Gillian’s face in her arm and she started driving her fist into the blonde’s face with short weak punches. Gillian took them and she punched at the Latina’s back also weakly and then she turned her head and sank her teeth into Isabelle’s breast. The howl came up out of and she flung the blonde away.
Isabelle was kneeling and checking her breast and there was blood trickling from the bite mark on her chest. She and Gillian were both on their knees, facing each other. The skin of their faces, busts, backs, legs was raw and bruised and their hair was dangling wet over their faces and they glared at each other and came to their feet for the last time. Gillian hit her in the face and Isabelle hit her back and then again they exchanged blows to the face. Gillian then hit her right and left and Isabelle staggered backward, holding her hands up as Gillian rushed her. The blonde threw rights and lefts wildly and Isabelle backpedaled until her back hit the wall and then Gillian grabbed her hair. But then Isabelle slugged her in the stomach her fist sinking in all the way and Gillian folded over. Isabelle hit her in the stomach again and Gillian was leaning fully on her, still holding her hair but no longer pulling. Isabelle seized her and turning put Gillian up against the wall. She slugged her across the face and then in the stomach. Gillian was still standing but her hands were at her sides and Isabelle threw uppercuts into her breasts and then when the blonde leaned forward covering her torso Isabelle held her head in place by the hair and brought her knee up into her forehead. Gillian collapsed into her and Isabelle let her fall face down to the ground and she lay unmoving. Isabelle stood over her and she planted her foot on her back and spit on her and then Guillermo put a jacket around her and led her out of the restaurant.
Isabelle returned to the small town and her cabin there and worked at Castle’s Inn, first as waitress and then later as manager. After two years Castle was dead and she was running the tavern on her own, and she came to enjoy watching the farmers and miners and the rest drink and fight and fuck under her roof. She never saw any of the Snow family again and although they could have found her easily she suspected they were eager to put Isabelle and her family in the past. Two more years after she had inherited the tavern from Castle Isabelle sold it and with the last of her money she returned to Mexico. Her sister had taken over the business there and Isabelle became her right hand. She married a fool of a man and under her management the family moved away from oil and built up the schools and protected the rights of independent businesses. And she established an annual boxing tournament for male and female entrants, the week between Christmas and New Year’s, open to the public, and every year she and her fool of a husband sat in the front row.
