Page 139 of Jensen
My body is eating the anticipation up and turning it into pure adrenaline.
I’m hungry to fight again.
I pause at the edge of the pit. It’s a hard-packed basin with a dusty floor, deep enough that the wooden walls can’t be climbed. Over top stretches a thick wire cage. There’s one way in, a set of stairs builtinto the dirt. On both sides above the pit are two platforms for the fighters to prep and recuperate.
On the platform to my left loiters a group of Leland’s soldiers. The one to my right is empty. Brothers and I move there, his men trailing behind. We step up under the overhang, and I drop the bag and start taking off my shirt. Brothers stares at the opposite platform, eyes moving like searchlights.
“Who’s their fighter?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Don’t know him. Not local, out of the Carolinas.”
“What’s his scorecard?”
He shakes his head again. “Don’t know, but he’s sort of in your weight class, so he won’t turn you into Swiss cheese.”
“I’m not worried about it,” I say. “I’ve been fighting out in Montana for years. I think I can take whatever they throw at me.”
“Don’t get cocky, Jen,” he says.
I sink down onto the bench and start wrapping my hands. My muscle memory takes over. That’s a confidence boost. I’ve always been agile and strong. This shouldn’t be a big deal. All I need to do is warm up, get out there, and clean house. Then, I’ll get the fuck out of dodge so I can get to Byway and pick up Della. I glance around at the crowd. It’s thick and restless, but Brothers has enough soldiers to escort us out fast.
I’ll have her back by morning.
“Shit,” says Brothers.
I look up. He’s staring at the opposite platform, stone faced. I rise, trying to see through the flickering light and shadows.
“What?”
He beckons, stepping to the side so I can stand in his place. From this angle, I can see inside the group of men. There’s his fighter, a blond man maybe a decade younger but of equitable size. He’s shifting back and forth, shaking out his shoulders. Then, my gaze moves to the side, and I see Leland talking to a slender, short figure in red.
Fuck.
“He brought Della,” says Brothers.
My stomach goes ice cold. “No… Fuck, this fucks up everything.”
He doesn’t answer. His eyes dart over the clearing like he’s thinking fast.
“Della wouldn’t leave Landis behind without a plan,” he says finally. “I need to leave, stall this, until I can get to the state route and call Kayleigh.”
There’s no service in the pit for a reason.
“You can’t leave,” I say. “We have to get to Della and talk to her before the fight, figure out what’s going on. What if you draw Leland aside and give me a chance to talk to her?”
“That’s a possibility,” he says.
“That’s our best bet.”
I half expect Brothers to argue, but he goes to the bag and takes out a white handkerchief. He leans off the platform and waves it hard, back and forth, until one of the soldiers on the opposite side points. The crowd shifts, turning to look. Leland pushes through and leans on the railing. There’s a second when I think he’s going to shake his head. Then, he lifts a hand and beckons.
“You keep the AK,” I say.
He jerks his head, leaning over to one of his men, Angie, the younger brother of Angus. He’s a tall guy with colorless hair and tattoos up to his jaw. “Angie, you come along with us.”
Angie nods, circling behind me as we alight the platform. The crowd murmurs, parting in a slow wave as we work our way through it.
“I don’t understand why he’d bring her,” says Brothers.
