Page 144 of Jensen

Thump.

Thump.

I turn back to Leland, tilting my chin up.

“He fucked me,” I whisper.

I don’t see his hand, but it stings across my face, knocking the breath from my lungs. Anger pours through me. I wrench my head back, shoving my face close to his.

“You can’t fight him? You fucking scared, Leland?” I hiss.

He’s struggling with his own anger, but I see I hit a sore spot for him. Leland is the same height as Jensen, but he’s bulkier, so that puts him in a different weight class. He’s not used to doing more than working out though, which gives Jensen an enormous advantage.

He doesn’t know that. All he knows is, he shouldn’t be scared to fight Jensen and his wife is implying he’s a pussy, which I am.

“I fucking hate that I love you,” he seethes.

“I know. You’ve made that clear.”

“You had everything given to you, and you throw it away on…what? Who is he?” he roars.

I don’t back down. “Jensen Childress, from Harlan County.”

He’s speechless. I’ve never spoken to him like this before. If this is my chance, I’m taking it. There’s a lot sitting on my chest, and I’m going to unload every damn thing.

“You fucking hate me, Leland,” I spit. “You want me, you don’t love me. I never wanted to marry you—”

I’m about to launch into a tirade about him using Landis against me, but he cuts me off by raising his hand. I flinch, knowing he can hurt me.

“You stupid bitch,” he whispers.

“Fight him, Leland,” I hiss. “Maybe you can get an ounce of respect from me for finally getting your hands dirty instead of sending your men to do it for you.”

His hand shoots out and grips my throat, pressing me back against the pillar. “I will kill this son of a bitch,” he says through gritted teeth. “And you’ll pay for what you did.”

“Fight him then,” I manage.

He twists his arm, and I’m on the ground in a second, gasping. Pain splinters up my thigh, the cloth of my dress tearing as I land at an awkward angle. He’s walking away, stopping to talk to one of his bodyguards. Slowly, sick from being manhandled, I push myself to my feet. One of my boots is gone. I kick the other off and pad barefoot to the edge of the platform.

Leland is in the crowd, pulling his shirt off as he walks to the pit. From the corner of my eye, I catch the slender figure of Brothers Boyd. Jensen must still be in the pavilion, because he’s nowhere in sight. Brothers turns, looking back at me. My stomach lurches as the firelight glows in a ring around his head. His hooded eyes are soft, sorrowful, paternal.

I hope he knows what he’s doing, because this is my last hope.

Father.

Son.

And Holy Ghost.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

JENSEN

After Brothers leaves, I go to the back of the pavilion to have a cigarette. Once my nerves are calm, I circle around to find Brothers heading my way. The doors to the cage are being pulled ajar. The pit is deeper than I remembered, the bars overtop thicker, the spikes along the edge sharper. Once they lock that gate, nobody’s getting out.

For the first time, I’m afraid of dying.

I can’t die. I have something to live for now. I look across the clearing and see her, standing at the top of the steps. She’s roughed up, hair falling over her shoulder, skirt torn. My stomach lurches with pure rage, fists clenching at my sides.