Rodeo's always loved the sight of an angry woman. Under most circumstances he knows that the fire in Jadyn's eyes when she turns on him would give him a terrible and perverse kind of pleasure, but he's so goddamn low-down that he finds no enjoyment in her rage. She's hot and harsh and ready to lock horns with him, and all he feels is fucking heavy. The weight of guilt constricts his chest, and he's so goddamn grateful for the crush of it.
Nothing she says is wrong. She lays the truth on him without flinching, without padding a single word for the sake of politeness. Good. He needs to know what she thinks of him. He needs to know what he looks like to the people out here, the people outside his walls. Her brutal honestly is even more valuable than it is painful. Besides, the pain is good for him. Pain is part of a lesson learned.
He stands there while she snaps at him, chin tipped up as if in defiance but his eyes clearly reading with hurt. It's a mixed signal that he doesn't bother correcting-- he doesn't hide the pain in his eyes and he doesn't lower himself into a more supplicant position. He keeps his shoulders squared and his eyes locked on hers, no matter how harried and broken his eyes betray him to be.
"It means exactly what I said," Rodeo grinds out when she finishes with that demand for an explanation. "Somebody in my camp is leaking information to the Capitol. Cost me three brothers today, and that's just the latest in a count that's gettin' out of hand. Got me a knife in my back a few months ago, too. I'm closin' in but I didn't figure it out fast enough and this is the price I'm payin' for that. This is the price we're all payin' for it. The patrolmen knew we were comin' and I got a strong suspicion they knew who was with us. Anybody could have tipped 'em off, but precedent sure suggests that it was somebody on my end."