Chapter 16 - Jensen
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Jensen
The dimly lit dance hall is packed with people, and as Sutton and I move through the crowd, tension tightens my shoulders. “Maybe this was a bad idea,” I grumble, dodging a waitress carrying a tray full of Jell-O shots.
Sutton smacks me in the stomach with the back of her hand. “You’re only saying that because big groups of people make you cranky.”
She’s not wrong. Crowds have never been my thing, and the chaotic energy in here isn’t helping my nerves.
“Besides, once you find Callie you’ll feel a lot better, I’m sure,” Sutton teases, yanking on my arm and leading me through the sea of bodies.
A groan rumbles in my chest, but I let her pull me along. When I’d fessed up in the car about my reason for wanting to come here tonight, Sutton had been ecstatic and declared herself my official wing woman. A job she was clearly taking very seriously.
“Look!” she shouts above the music a few minutes later, pointing at one of the high tops in the corner.
Mabel’s short stature is easily recognizable, even in the low lighting, but there’s definitely something off about her expression. Sutton must see it too, her eyebrows scrunching before she makes a beeline for the table.
When Mabel spots us, her face lifts, not in surprise at seeing us here, but in relief. “Sutton! Jensen!” She waves us closer.
Sutton hurries to her side. “Hey, you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, but I’m worried about Callie.”
The single sentence triggers something inside me, putting every instinct I have on high alert. “Where is she? What’s wrong?”
“This guy came up to us and asked for a dance. He was clearly drunk, and we tried to brush him off, but he was pretty insistent.” Mabel leans around me and points in the direction of the dance floor.
“Callie’s out there with him now, and I don’t know, there was just something about him that rubbed me the wrong way. ”
I’m already walking toward the dance floor, my eyes scanning the couples moving in time with the music.
At first, I don’t see her, but as I move closer, I spot her.
A golden spotlight overhead illuminates her beautiful face.
It’s a relief to see her, but her lips are pressed into a line and she looks like she’s counting the seconds until the song ends.
Thankfully it does, right as my boots hit the polished hardwood floor.
I keep my eyes on her as I maneuver around the couples exiting the floor, and that’s when I see the guy she was dancing with grab her by the arm and yank her closer.
Seeing his hands on her ignites a fire inside of me, and I rush over to Callie, my blood roaring in my veins. I reach her right as the guy growls in her face, “You’re not going anywhere.”
It takes every ounce of strength I have not to rip his arm from his body, but I try to stay calm.
“Actually, she is.” The words come out, low and gravelly but loud enough that the lowlife’s eyes snap to mine. They’re bloodshot and glassy, but they must see clearly enough because they widen for half a second and then he releases his grip on her.
Callie looks up at me, but I keep my eyes on him, making sure that my expression clearly communicates what will happen if he doesn’t walk away.
“Sorry,” the drunk guy mutters, stumbling back a step or two. “I didn’t know she belonged to anyone.”
I bristle at his choice of words, which only make me want to punch him even more, but I just give him a terse nod. “Well, she does. ”
The words come out like a warning, meant to keep this loser from getting any more ideas. Still, I can’t deny the way they make me feel. There’s a deep undercurrent of satisfaction that runs hot underneath my anger, a tiny thrill over that claim.
I run a hand down Callie’s arm, and she steps close enough that my chest brushes against her back. She melts into me, and I move my hand to her waist to support her.
The drunk guy’s nostrils flare, but he’s at least smart enough not to push things further. He brushes past me, knocking into my shoulder as he staggers back to the bar, muttering under his breath.
I wait until I’m sure he’s not coming back and then I gently turn Callie in my arms, needing to see her face. “Are you okay?”
Callie nods, though her eyes fill with tears. “I’m fine.”
The sight of those tears nearly cracks my chest wide open, and the need to touch her, to somehow make her feel better and safe again wipes everything else from my brain.
I reach for her, cupping her head and tilting it back gently so I can see her better.
I can’t stop my thumbs from swiping across her smooth cheekbones.
“Hey, it’s okay. He won’t bother you again. ”
“Thanks,” she says, pulling away so that she can swipe at her nose. “I’m fine, really. It’s just that my waterworks have always been linked to my emotions. When I get mad, well, I cry. The fact that he had the audacity to put his hands on me like that makes me want to punch him the face.”
I admit I’m having the exact same thought, especially since he made her cry. The sight of Callie crying makes me want to burn the entire world to the ground. I throw a hand over my shoulder. “It’s not too late, we can track him down. I’ll hold, you punch.”
“That’s okay,” she says with a laugh, as a new song begins to play over the loud speaker. “This is too good a song to waste on a guy like that.”
Hearing her laugh eases some of the adrenaline still coursing through me, though the instinct to wrap my arms around her and pull her close is as strong as ever.
I don’t want to think about what it means, don't want to answer the question I’ve been asking myself since I decided to come here tonight.
All I want is to be near her, to hold her.
So, when the overhead lights dim to match the slower pace of the song, I take a deep breath and say, “Well then, how about we dance instead?”