Chapter 39 #2
The crowd is turning on them. They want blood, not a boxing match. People hang over the edge, arms between the spikes as they beat on the cage in a driving rhythm. I swear, it’s matching the swift pump of my blood in my ears.
It hits me all at once. Of course, how did I not see it? I’m so terrified, I can’t think straight.
He’s buying time for Kayleigh to get Landis out.
My lower lip trembles.
If I get out of this, I’m going to marry this man. I’m going to make sure he wakes up to a fresh cup of coffee and a blowjob every morning for the rest of his life.
He didn’t need to help me. His life was fine in Montana.
But he hauled himself to the other side of the country, faced down his demons, and now he’s cage fighting my piece of shit ex-husband so I have a shot at getting my son back.
Flowers and diamonds can go to hell. This is the most romantic thing anybody has ever done in all of history.
Everything goes still.
The crowd is a million miles away.
Jensen Childress loves me.
Maybe he’s not good with his words, and he’s pretty prickly sometimes, but his actions are loud and clear, and they have been for a while. I think he’s been in love with me since the beginning—he’s just too damn stubborn to acknowledge it.
Crack.
I blink, the cage coming into focus. Leland stumbles backward, and Jensen sprints to the side. Crimson streams down the side of Leland’s neck—Jensen made contact good and hard this time. Hope rises.
Please, finish him off.
Leland shakes his head, seething blood and spit out from between his teeth.
He’s like a bull going for a red flag, charging at Jensen and reeling as he sidesteps, flipping sides of the pit.
Dust rises under their feet. Sweat gleams down their skin, glittering in their soaked hair.
Jensen is on defense again, going in, going back, never letting Leland make contact.
The crowd is livid.
They’re screaming, rattling the edges of the pit like animals.
There’s a brief moment when they both pull back. Then, Leland surges, raining down punches like it’s his last stand. Jensen’s eyes widen, flashing in the firelight. He sidesteps, catching a hit to the shoulder. It’s a graze, barely throwing him off balance.
Bolstered, Leland swings wide.
Jensen ducks and—
Bam.
Jensen goes in so fast, I can barely follow his punches.
But I think he hits Leland in the chest, in the throat, in the right side of his ribcage.
Leland stumbles, body jerking as he takes the blows.
Jensen drives forward without missing a beat.
This is the Jensen I saw in the ring in Montana—brutal, relentless, beating his opponent without mercy.
The last hit spins Leland halfway sideways. Lightning fast, Jensen hits him in the back of the head, turning him the rest of the way around, and takes out his left knee with his boot.
Crunch.
Leland’s upright for a moment, suspended in time. I see Jensen’s eyes flare, and he spits. Then, he swings hard.
Boom.
Leland goes down like a building collapsing. One second, he’s upright, and then, he’s in the dirt. It happens so fast, and it’s so neat, like folding up a lawn chair.
Jensen turns his back on him for a half step. Then, he reels around, drops to his knees straddling Leland, and starts beating the shit out of him. The crowd takes a unanimous breath. The only sound is a meaty crunch over and over. Then, they start screaming and rattling the fence and overhead cage.
They’re losing money, but they don’t care. This is the blood they were promised.
My stomach roils.
I saw Jensen take out those men with an AK, but I’ve never seen him like this. One boot braced, one knee cocked. Arm going down like a machine, just pounding. Blood spatters, beading in the dust. He’s red from hand to elbow.
My shaking hands are over my mouth.
Oh my God, he’s going to kill him.
Everyone seems to realize at the same time I do that Jensen is not letting Leland walk away from the pit tonight.
They get quiet and start murmuring. Then, there’s a commotion in the crowd.
Men in dark shirts with rifles strapped to their backs start pushing through.
They kick down the gate, breaking the lock, and stream into the ring before anyone can react.
Brothers runs in from his corner, hands up, shouting, but the Caudill soldiers get there first.
Two of them grip Jensen’s upper arms and haul him back. Another pulls Leland to his feet. He’s conscious but bleeding badly. Jensen starts fighting as they force him down to his knees.
No, no, please, don’t hurt him.
I dash down the steps and enter the crowd. I’m at the edge of the pit when the bodyguards catch me in an iron grip. I’m no match for their brawn. It takes only one of them to pin my arms behind my back.
“Jensen,” I scream.
His gaze flickers up, locking with mine.
I’ve never seen his eyes so dark.
Brothers breaks into the center of the ring, reaching for Jensen, but he’s too late.
Two more of Leland’s soldiers haul him away, pinning his arms behind his back.
I’ve never seen Brothers like this before.
He reminds me of the Pentecostal preacher in the church down the road from Mama’s.
Eyes of fire and brimstone. Righteous anger burning so bright.
Leland wipes the blood from his face and turns to face Brothers.
“Get him out of here,” he says. “Get everyone out of the clearing.”
They start pulling Brothers back, but he fights hard.
“You have no fucking honor,” he spits. “You are no fucking gentleman, you fucking piece of shit.”
That means something, coming from him.
“Get him out,” Leland shouts, throwing his arm towards the gate.
“I will fucking gut you,” Brothers roars, veins standing out in his flushed neck. “And when I send you to the fucking devil, tell him Brothers Boyd sent you to burn, you fucking evil son of a bitch.”
Leland turns and strides from the pit. The crowd is in utter confusion, moving this way and that, trying to figure out if they need to clear out or not. The Caudill soldiers hold Jensen and Brothers, but they don’t hurt them. Maybe Leland has a trace of honor in him after all.
The bodyguards pull me back, stumbling over my bare feet, to the platform.
They force me down, holding me steady. That’s when it starts to really sink in that I’m in danger.
I was so worried about Jensen, I couldn’t think straight.
But as I lift my eyes from where I’m on my knees, I see Leland coming up the steps, looking right at me with an expression I know very well.
It’s done. It’s over.
We won, but it doesn’t matter.
I still lost.