Page 142 of Jensen
“Fine,” I say. “But whatever you do, don’t tell him Della and I were together, not while she’s still in his hands.”
He nods, disappearing back into the crowd. I turn my back. There’s a lot of pain in this clearing tonight, on his shoulders, on mine, sitting in Della’s fragile heart. Brothers is right. It needs to end. There’s a debt that needs to be paid between the Childresses and the Caudills.
Tonight, I’m going to collect on it.
Then, I’ll take my family and go home.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
DELLA
I’m a perfect statue, standing with Leland’s hand on my waist. But my eyes follow the tanned skin of Jensen’s shoulders as they move back into the crowd.
They pause on the other side of the pit. He’s close to Brothers, talking earnestly. Then, his pale eyes find me. Heat and electricity pour through my veins. Under my constricting dress, my body responds to him. It knows him, deeply, intimately. I want him so goddamn badly. If I can’t have him, there will never be another man.
Jensen Childress is it.
Then, he disappears, swallowed by the crowd. Emptiness settles in my chest.
“Della.”
I blink, hazy stare adjusting to Leland. He’s frowning, mean as a snake.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
I shake my head, confused. “I’m…just standing,” I say.
He steps closer, so he’s directly over me. “Why are you looking at Brothers? Did he say something to you?”
I turn to face him. “No, sorry. I’m just tired.”
The edge of his jaw brushes my temple as he leans in to speak into my ear.
“I don’t know if I trust you, Della,” he says.
There’s a dangerous edge to his voice, soft and deadly. It reminds me of the handful of times I’ve witnessed him lose his cool and put a bullet in some poor man’s head. It also reminds me of the days leading up to the condom incident. A few months into our relationship, he saw I was pulling back from him, trying to shake him off, and he took away my options without saying a word.
I wonder if he knows what he did.
Or if that’s just him.
“I’m tired, I swear,” I whisper. “I’m uncomfortable being at the fight, but it’s fine.”
He touches my sternum with his fingertips. “That’s alright.”
“Are they fighting?” I ask, trying to sound casual.
He turns back to the crowd. To my surprise, Brothers is coming back over, sweat-drenched face hollow. Jensen is gone. He must be lost in the crowd, prepping for the fight. Leland watches him, stare narrowed. Then, he moves down to meet him at the bottom of the steps.
I follow, leaning on the pillar.
“We want to change fighters,” Brothers says, taking the cigarette from his lip.
He’s nervous. I see it in the flash of the whites of his eyes.
“Why would I do that?” Leland drawls.
Brothers points directly at me with the cherry tip.
