Page 135 of Finding Denver

Another bullet thuds into me.

It stuns me, stopping me in place, but not for long.

I shoot. I keep moving.

I can’t fucking stop.

Headlights fill the street, but I ignore them. I can only pray they’re on my side, because I don’t know where thesecond bullet landed, but the pain is bursting through the adrenaline.

“Denver!” I shout. Ranger’s childhood home is directly in front of me. A window smashes, orange flickering beyond the panes and eventually bursting through the frames. Flames lick the brick, smoke billowing into the sky. “No.” The word is closer to a breath, and I break out into a run.

Denver screams. She keeps screaming.

Screaming.

Screaming.

I throw my shoulder into the door, but it stays firm. I keep shouting her name as more windows smash, the glass raining down on me. My shoulder meets the wood again. And again. It finally gives way, banging into the wall behind it.

Smoke crawls down the stairs, and I take them three at a time. Ranger is standing in a doorway, blocking the way, his back to me, and beyond him are flames. I seize his shoulder and pull him into the hall, my knuckles meeting his jaw in a short, sharp snap.

He stumbles back, but not for long. He runs at me, his shoulder meeting my chest as he barrels into me. We fall into the bathroom, my back slamming into the sink of the small space. My body is a symphony of pain, but I fight through it, gripping Ranger’s head and slamming his face into the mirror to my right, glass spitting across the floor.

Denver appears behind him, a bundle in her arms, her face dirtied with smoke and sweat.

“Go!” I shout, and she gives me a terrified glance before running down the stairs. As Ranger recovers, I bring my forehead into his nose, blood bursting across his face as I shove him back into the hall. He hits the floor, and the heat from theroom beside me is spreading, flames climbing up the walls and ceiling.

“She isn’t yours!” Ranger bellows, shielding his face against the heat.

“She isn’t anyone’s!” The fire roars, sweat pouring down my face and back, blood weeping from the bullets in my shoulder. My head swims, my vision blurs, the thick smoke invading my lungs. “You don’t own her!”

“And neither will you.” He stands, but he doesn’t run at me. He goes to the window at the far end.

My eyes widen. “Ranger, no!”

His elbow meets glass, and air seeps into the room. The fire screams and rushes for the oxygen, engulfing us both. I cover my face and stumble back, losing my footing on the stairs. The world tumbles and I hit the ground over and over until finally meeting the bottom. An inferno whirls above me, the wallpaper curling as the fire rushes down the stairs toward me.

But I force myself to my feet, because the flames aren’t the only thing barreling down those stairs. Ranger’s fist meets my jaw and I slam into the wall, barely registering the small pain against so many other agonies wreaking havoc in my body. He seizes my arm and throws me against the other wall, throwing another punch my way.

He throws another punch, but his knuckles meet my palm in an angry crack, and I grip and twist.

With my other hand, I jab his throat, and his eyes widen as he tries to take in air. Ranger Luxe drops to a knee, suffocating on smoke, and I stand above him, heaving it in as if the dark air gives me life. “You think you’re a king. You think you rule. You fucking don’t.”

Somehow, he breathes, “I’ll kill you if you take her from me. I’ll fucking kill you.”

The fire continues to roar, my skin close to blistering, and I seize his hair and bring his face close to mine. “You can’t kill a ghost.”

I hit him. His head snaps back.

I hit him again.

And again. Blood spurts across his face as he falls to the bottom of the stairs in a heap.

My lungs burn. My vision blurs.

Someone is calling my name.

She’s calling my name.