Page 73 of Finding Denver

The tears only make my eyes sting more, but I let them out. I slump against the mirrored wall and sob, heaving in painful breaths, my jaw aching, my ribs throbbing.

I did it. Messily. Painfully. But I fought back, and I ran,and I hope Lewis will be fucking proud of me, even if I am crying like a baby.

God, I hate this life. I hate that this happens. I hate that I’m once again going to be nursing bruises and injuries, that another painful memory is stacked on the others, and more will follow.

It’s exhausting. It’s so fucking exhausting.

I don’t realize the elevator hasn’t moved until the doors open again.

My vision is clearing enough to see the man standing over me, the hairpin protruding from his throat. He holds himself up with a hand against the railing, and I don’t need to be able to see his features clearly to feel his rage. He rattles in a few breaths before saying, “Now I’m really going to hurt you.”

Hurt me. Take me. Use me. Sell me.

My body feels like a dead weight, my muscles unwilling to cooperate when I try to move, to fight one last time. I’m stuck to the floor, my eyes begging to close. I’m tired. Too fucking tired.

Bang.

Blood spits across glass. A thud shakes the elevator car. My ears split with the sound, and if I had any energy left, I’d cover them.

“Del,” Colt whispers, cupping my face. I try to blink away the blur, but it doesn’t work. I think he kisses my cheek. I know he lifts me into his arms. “I’ve got you.”

Someone’s got me.

He’s got me.

Chapter 19

Colt

Denver blinks rapidly, her head back, eyes rimmed a painful-looking red. She’s washed them out a few times and says they feel better, but they don’t fucking look it. She’s sitting on the couch of her new hotel room and has showered and changed into pajamas. She has a nasty bruise on her jaw, but she’s alive. Somehow, she’s alive, after pepper-spraying her attacker and jamming a hairpin into his throat.

Once most of Spider’s men retreated or died, I looked for Denver. Lewis was shooting his way through more masked men, but there were so fucking many of them. Spider meant business tonight, and he clearly didn’t want to leave without Denver in his possession.

That thought has knocked the air from me more than once since I found her sitting on the elevator floor, eyes red, breathless and quiet.

“I really wish you’d just go to Finn’s.”

Denver shakes her head. “I’ll be fine.”

“You’re too far,” I say. “I don’t like you being this farfrom me. Us.” The words feel strange on my tongue, and I roll my jaw. “Just?—”

“Colt, I can’t hide behind Finn or you. Besides, we could find Spider in Arizona, and this will all be over with.” She drops her chin to look at me. “Is it my eyes, or do you look like shit?”

I look at my clothes. Bloodstained, filthy, and I definitely caught the attention of the staff as I walked Denver through the lobby while Lewis checked them into the room that’s been on standby since Charlie took over her protection.

“I look like shit,” I confirm.

Denver stands, a little wobbly on her feet, and I grip her shoulders gently to steady her. “Go home,” she says. “I’ll be fine.”

“I’m staying.”

“All night?”

“If I have to, yes.”

She sighs. “Holly might wake up and want you there.”

“Wilder is already home with her.” I called him when Denver was in the shower, so Holly has her dad and Charlie to keep her company. Do I want to be there? Absolutely. But I’m not her father, and sometimes I have to step back, even if it feels like the most unnatural thing in the world.