15. Jenson
Jenson
E very single year.
It’s always a bad night. A reminder. I can hear the roar of the crowd in the next room even over the pounding bass of the music in here. Kai is giving them the show they want, and they have no idea why. What drives him to fight with such wild abandon that you’d think he was fighting for his damn life.
I should pull him out. Force him to take a break. But he’s old enough – more than fucking old enough, now – to make his own choices.
Particularly when he’s had so few of them in the past.
Leaning back against the wall, I cross my arms and stare out across the crowd. It’s busy tonight, the long black marble bar at least five deep with Dove flitting back and forth, four others helping her. Managing Mystic is River’s job, and he does it well – the club a convenient front for some of the darker requirements that crop up in my role as the leader of the Diamonds.
What’s left of us, at least. Even after all these years, we’re still nowhere near the numbers we used to have. It’s a weakness that could be exploited by Alyss and Keenan if they saw past the mask we put on when we need to, but so far they’ve left us alone. More than enough has been happening in their own worlds to stare too closely at ours.
Scrubbing my hands over my face, my thoughts wander elsewhere.
I wonder how Briar Rose is sleeping tonight. We’re well into the witching hour, midnight passing more than an hour ago and dragging me into memories of a past I’d rather fucking forget.
We probably shocked her. Blew her innocent little worldview apart and scandalized her. Hell, we gave her enough gossip to dine out on with her friends for weeks. The thought makes me grimace.
We moved too fast. Rushed it. Swept up in River and Kai’s keenness, I let my usual instincts take a backseat in favor of something more… primal.
Not just them. I wanted her. Still want her, even as I try not to think of silky black hair across satin sheets that makes me shift in place.
I taste sour regret at the back of my throat, as it tightens.
It’s for the best if we never hear from her again. She doesn’t belong with us. Not even for something temporary.
She belongs in her undoubtedly sheltered world. Safe, and warm, and—
My eyes catch on something in the far corner. Something out of place, and I straighten. Every fucking warning instinct I have starts to blare, a red fucking flag.
The fuck?