Page 95 of Monstrous Serpent

“Seriously, drop it. Our boy's coming out, and I guarantee he's not gonna be cool with you going all psycho over a fight he won.”

Except Jenkins exits the arena with his head down, hands shoved into his pockets, and shoulders hunched.

The fuck?

I cut across the grass, Atlas on my heels.

The color drains from Jenkins’s face when he spots us, stride shortening. “I thought you two left.”

Atlas scoffs. “The fuck, Little Jenkins? We were being considerate. Came out here because we didn’t want a Titans fan recognizing us and getting brave.”

Jenkins looks at the ground, toe of his gym shoe digging into the grass. “Just Jenkins, okay?”

I move closer and grip his chin, lifting it until his gaze meets mine. “What’s wrong?”

He pulls away. “Nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

He goes to step around us, but Atlas blocks him.

Jenkins narrows his eyes. “Move.”

“No.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing happened.” He looks at me, chin held high. But his eyes are glassy. Red. Puffy. “I’m tired, okay?”

I cross my arms. “You’re lying.”

“Why are you even here?”

Atlas tips his head back, mumbling at the sky, before glaring at Jenkins. “Yeah no, we drove forty minutes to sit in an arena full of people who hate us just to watch you play, and you're standing here asking us why we came?”

Jenkins snorts.

My molars grind. “The fuck is so funny about that?”

His nose scrunches, and he pokes me in the chest. “You texted two words to me all week. Didn’t even say goodbye after you fucked me. So, yeah. Why the fuck are you here?”

I grab his wrist and tug him forward until his body is against mine. “Because you’re—”

He huffs, rolling his eyes. “Ours. Yeah, you’ve said that. Numerous times. But what the fuck does it mean?”

“It means you don't fuck anyone else. Anyone puts hands on you, they answer for it. And when we show up, you don't ask why. Got it?”

He gets up on his tiptoes, eyes narrowed to slits. “Fuck. You.”

The corner of my mouth ticks up. “Don’t tempt me, Little Titan. I’ll bend you over right here and make sure everyone knows who you belong to.”

His pupils dilate, lips parting.

I lean in, my lips brushing the shell of his ear. “Is that what you want?”

“Cody?” A woman calls out.

She’s standing a few feet away, a man and kid at her side. I recognize them from the photos on the fireplace mantel in Jenkins’s house. It’s his parents and younger brother.