Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
DELLA
The next day, he’s up and gone before I can peel open my eyes. Everything hurts, especially on the inside. After I make breakfast and leave it on the table, I pull back the shower curtain and fill up the clawfoot bathtub with hot water. I swear, my eyes roll back in my head as I sink to my chin.
Right away, I start spiraling.
Back in the Caudill house, I spent a lot of time in the evening disassociating in the bath. It was where Leland left me alone. In the evening, I could have a long soak and postpone going to bed with him as long as possible.
“You take so fucking long at night,” he’d snap.
“Don’t you want me nice for you?” I’d ask sweetly.
“You take ages putting our son to bed too. Come here.”
My eyes snap open. Right on the heels of the memory of his hands on me comes the pain of missing my son.
The only consolation I have is that I know Kayleigh will put him to bed every night the way he likes: a story by the hearth in the nursery, a kiss on the head, and a song.
Kayleigh’s people are from the mountains, so she knows all the songs I tried so hard to pass on to him.
The door slams downstairs. I wipe my eyes.
There’s no point in misery, not when I have a bullet like Jensen Childress in my gun.
If anyone can get my son back, he can. After last night, I see what Brothers was saying about Jensen being a cat.
Watching him jump into a moving truck and shoot two men through the sunroof, I get it now.
He is a tough motherfucker.
Boots sound on the ladder. Jensen comes around the corner, taking off his cowboy hat and hanging it behind the door. His eyes linger on my body, brows rising.
He whistles, low. “Goddamn.”
A flush creeps up my neck. “Hush,” I whisper back.
He leans down, takes me by the chin, and kisses my mouth. The way his mustache tickles has my toes curling.
“We’re going to Bonnefield Tavern,” he says, pulling his shirt off and turning the sink on.
I sit up. “That’s Brothers’ territory.”
“Brothers is the reason we’re going,” he says, splashing down his torso and toweling off. He takes his last clean white t-shirt from the pile of laundry I did the other day and pulls it on. “We’re going to need his help.”
I don’t speak. I don’t have any right to, not after dragging him all the way here. This is one of those times when silence is best.
“You’re going to behave yourself this time,” he says.
My feathers ruffle. “I was coming to help,” I say.
He stops in the doorway. “I was a professional criminal, Della. I know how to kill people.”
His footsteps die out, and I hear him pull a chair out at the kitchen table.
Frowning, I sink into the water until it reaches my chin.
The Bonnefield Tavern is where Brothers runs his bookkeeping business.
It’s between Lexington and Byway, the place to be during racing season.
I’ve been there once with Kayleigh to see a band and place bets on the derby, earning myself a scolding from Leland.
After that, Kayleigh had to go alone. That’s how she met Brothers.
One thing’s for certain: there won’t be a Caudill in sight that deep into Brothers’ territory.
Jensen spends most of the day outside. In the late afternoon, I walk the yard, coming upon a mound of fresh earth.
Down below, I know are the men he killed.
I stare at it for a long time. Hoofbeats pull my attention.
He comes around the side of the barn on Godspeed, hat on his head.
I watch him for a while, enjoying the view.
It feels so right, being in this house with him.
Like the home I’ve always wanted.
At first, I thought I didn’t want marriage and children. I used to dream of running back to the holler and living alone, in peace. But now that I’ve met Jensen Childress, I realize I do want those things, but they better be on my own damn terms.
I just wanted the freedom of choosing my own way. I deserved to pick the man I wanted to be the father of my baby, the man I go to bed with every night, a man I love, one who loves me back.
I deserve a man who fights for me instead of fighting against me.
He disappears into the barn. I shake the thoughts from my head and go inside to get ready for tonight. Jensen comes in after a while. I get into my sundress, tying the ruched bodice tight, and put my boots on.
Then, I reconsider and retie the bodice to sit a little lower. I’ve got a nice body, and I like when Jensen looks at it.
My fingers falter.
I hated it when Leland looked at me; it made my skin crawl. It’s so strange, rediscovering all these things with Jensen now.
I wait for him on the porch because I like watching the lightning bugs rise in the silence of the gorge. The truck looks different, and the license plate is gone. I think Jensen might have put some kind of tint on the side windows.
“You ready, baby?” He appears behind me, locking up.
He gives me an up-down glance that makes my stomach flutter as he follows me down the steps. His arm snakes around my waist, holding me back for a second.
“You behave yourself tonight,” he says. “I mean that.”
I nod reluctantly. “I know we’re here to do business, and I trust you to do it.”
He pulls back, spanking my ass, and opens the truck. “Good girl. Get in.”
I’m so flustered, it doesn’t occur to me until we’re on the road that maybe Kayleigh will be there tonight.
That thought keeps me going through the winding roads out to the horse farms on the north side.
When we park on the street, a valet appears out of nowhere and takes the keys.
He seems to know exactly who Jensen is. We’re expected.
The tavern is a two story white building with green shutters. The front porch wraps around three sides, and the front door is open, light spilling out into the night. Music sounds faintly from inside. Through the wavy, mini pane windows, I can see there’s already a crowd inside.
“You stay with me,” Jensen says.
“Yes, sir,” I say.
“Save the sass for when I can work it out of you.” He puts his hand on the small of my back, guiding me up the steps and inside.
A wall of sound hits me, making me wince. A bluegrass band plays fiddle in the corner, a woman with a guitar singing into the microphone. Against the rich, red wooden walls are rows of bourbon, bottles glittering under the chandelier.
To the left are the betting stations, open for business.
On the opposite wall, over the entrance to the upstairs hotel area, is an enormous TV showing the pre-race.
And standing behind the counter, bartending, is Brothers Boyd.
It’s a stab of disappointment that Kayleigh isn’t with him.
I blink quickly, sniffing. It was a longshot, now that I think about it.
I doubt she goes out in public with him at all.
He sees us and stops, lifting his hands.
“Hey, hey,” he drawls. “Come here, Della. You’re a sight for sore eyes.”
I let him take my hands over the counter and kiss the back of my knuckles. Jensen leans on the bar, giving him a warning look.
“Flirt with her, and I’ll shoot you in the dick,” he says.
Brothers winks at me, turning to get down two glasses. “Nobody’s trying to take your girl. Have a bourbon, Jen. It’ll help your panties work that knot out.”
“Christ,” Jensen murmurs, but he takes the glass.
I sip mine to taste then shoot the rest. “It’s good.”
“Only the best,” says Brothers. “Go on, put some bets down. It’s on me if you lose.”
Something I learned about Brothers is that he works hard, but Lord, does he play harder. Tonight, he’s clearly in a great mood. His bar is crowded, I know he’s put thousands down on a fast horse, and he’s got Jensen right where he wants him.
I lean across the counter, bourbon already hitting my brain—I’m starting to feel pretty damn good.
“Can I bartend?” I beg.
He laughs. “God, I love you, Della. Come on, jump over the bar.”
Jensen reaches for me, but I sidestep. “Let me back there. I’ll be out of the way, and I can keep the drinks going so you all can talk.”
He glances over the room then jerks his head. I might not be as deadly as Jensen, but I am the woman who convinced Brothers to help me in the first place. This isn’t my first rodeo in getting what I want.
Brothers holds out his hands. I pull myself up, letting him lift me by the waist over the counter and set me down.
“You know how to do this?” he asks.
“You know I do,” I say.
Truthfully, I’ve never done it to this level, but I served drinks by night when the diner became a bar for local events. Before Leland ruined everything. I think I can figure it out, at least for tonight.
“Alright, let’s get a couple of Angel's Envy, neat,” he says. “Jen, come here.”
Right then, someone whistles, sharp and loud. The band goes silent. Brothers leans over and hits a button, the TV turning all the way up. There’s something about the races that always gets my blood flowing. I go to the far end so I can see over everyone’s heads.
The gates clang.
The entire bar inhales. I glance sideways at Jensen, but he’s glued to the screen.
“Come on, come on,” Brothers murmurs.
The horses go around once. The tension grows. Everyone moves closer, like it’ll make their horse go faster. There are murmurs of fuck yeah and come on, come on. The energy shifts, rising as the horse in the middle breaks out into a clear lead. Brothers leans in, knuckles white on the bar.
“That’s my horse,” he murmurs.
“You own it?” Jensen asks.
“Yeah. Cost me a heavy stud fee to get that filly,” he says.
“She’s a good looking horse.”
“Thanks. She’s from Chariot Racer.”
“Fuck, that’s a stud fee. Better hope she takes it.”
My brows are up by my hairline. They’re talking, like it’s all water under the bridge tonight. It’s making Jensen’s anger towards Brothers make a lot more sense. There was a strong bond there, once upon a time.
It must have been one hell of a falling out.