Chapter 37
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.
“Because my fighter fucked your wife,” he says.
My entire body freezes. No, no, what is he doing? There’s no way Jensen agreed to revealing that information.
“What?” Leland breathes.
Brothers looks him dead in the eye. “Jensen Childress fucked your wife. If you had any honor at all, you’d take your fighter’s place.”
I’m sinking. This is the flip side of Brothers Boyd, the one Jensen warned me about. Still, it feels like a punch to the gut. It feels soiled, dirty, laid out in front of Leland like it’s no longer this sweet secret between me and Jensen anymore.
My porcelain teacup heart cracks, dozens of fine threads running through it.
Leland turns slowly, and a shudder moves down my spine. “Della,” he says. “Care to chime in?”
I can’t speak, feet rooted to the spot.
“Come now, Leland,” Brothers taunts. “Solve this like a gentleman. She can’t help what he did.”
I’m so sick, my vision is blurred. Leland walks up the stairs. I see him coming like we’re in a tunnel. Then, his iron grip wraps around my throat.
“Did he fuck you?” he says grimly.
A lie feels stupid at this point. Brothers wasn’t dressing me for sacrifice the night he sent me back to Leland. No, that was just the appetizer. Tonight, I’m laid out with my throat slit.
I see Brothers in the background through my blurry vision. He mouths something, and I think he’s telling me to trust him.
I want to, I do. The comfort of complete trust is a distant concept. I’ve felt it exactly twice in my life. When my father was alive and that day in the swamp with Jensen’s hand on the wheel.
“Della,” Leland snarls, dragging me back.
I twist, trying to get my throat free. He holds tight.
“He did,” I gasp.
Leland pushes me, hard. I hit the ground and roll to my side. Everything is turned upside down, but I hear Brothers’ voice cut through the confusion.
“She didn’t want it,” he says. “Trust me on that.”
Leland is tearing at the seams, trying to keep in control of himself.
I’m a puppet on Brothers’ strings, my fate changing every time he speaks.
Is that what he did to Jensen too? I don’t have time to think about it, because Leland takes me by the upper arm and drags me to my feet, pulling me to the far corner of the platform.
Behind him, I see Brothers surge forward, like he thinks he can intervene, but Leland’s guards cut him off.
“Lelend, please,” I beg. His grip is cutting off circulation. “He didn’t.”
“You just said he did,” he spits. “Tell me.”
He pushes me against the wooden pillar, hand between my breasts. I’m so fucking scared, I can’t stop shaking.
After the way he got me pregnant, Leland scares me more than anyone in this world. If it wasn’t an accident, he assaulted me, and then he made me live with him in his perfect house knowing what he did the whole time.
He made me sleep in the same bed with a predator.
That’s colder than ice.
“Tell you what?” I breathe.
“What did he do to you?” he snaps.
Under his arm, I see Brothers. He’s mouthing those words again. Trust me, Della.
My broken heart starts back up.
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.