Page 23 of Freeing Denver

“Congratulations on catching up,” Alistair says, his eyes on his phone as he texts. He’s sitting beside JJ, and Taf is next to me.

“I can’t wait to grill Colt over this when he wakes up. He didn’t tell me. Even after we slept together, he didn’t tell me.”

Taf’s gasp is drama worthy. “You mean after he bumped uglies with you, his immediate thought wasn’t to tell you about his best friend being undercover in your house? It’s almost like he was more preoccupied with your boobs.”

Lewis cackles from the seat behind us, and Taf reaches his hand up. They high-five, and I smack them both with my magazine. JJ grins, his gaze lingering on Taf. The two have beensharing lustful glances ever since we got on the plane an hour ago.

“And you two—get a fucking room,” I say, waving my hand between them. “Someone on this plane should be having sex.”

“Who says I’m not having sex?” Lewis asks.

Now I cackle. “Who are you having sex with?”

“I could be having sex,” Lewis mumbles.

I kick Alistair’s leg under the table, and he frowns at me. “Are you having sex?”

“No, he isn’t,” Taf says.

Alistair narrows his eyes at his friend. “And how the hell would you know?”

“Because I have a sixth sense for levels of horniness when it comes to you all,” he says, nodding at Alistair and JJ. “It’s how I knew Colt was gonna end up with the red devil over here.” He nudges me and grins. “He came home after that first night in the hotel with her and looked ready to kill or fuck someone.”

My cheeks flush, and I sigh. “I love it when he looks like that.”

“And you,” Taf says, pointing at Alistair. “How long has it been? Six months?” Alistair’s eyes widen, and it’s clear Taf is right. “Thought so. That mask is gathering dust.”

I almost sprain my neck looking at Alistair. “You wear masks during sex?”

“Before, during, after,” Taf says, grinning wildly.

“I’m going to end your fucking life, Taf,” Alistair growls.

I wave my hands around. “Someone give me details!”

“Can I tell her?” Taf asks, almost bouncing in his seat. Alistair sighs and gives him a wave of approval. “Denver, did you know Alistair owns a hotel?” I shake my head rapidly. “It isn’t open for business, though. He keeps it clean and fully furnished, and you could stroll in there tomorrow and be comfortable, but the doors are always locked. Wanna know why?” Oh my God, do I want to know. “He takes his dates there.”

My eyes widen. “And then what?”

“It’s all pre-agreed,” Taf says, facing me and lowering his voice as if we’re alone, and not that the character in this story is right across from us. “He takes them there and tells them to hide. They can go to any floor, but only some of the rooms are unlocked. He gives them a head start, then he puts on the mask, and he hunts them.”

My eyes must be saucer like when I look at Alistair. He looks bored, as if he’s hearing a story about someone else.

“You are suddenly so sexy,” I whisper.

JJ cackles. Taf continues, “Last time, he took two women there, and we didn’t see him for three days.”

“What did you do for three days?” I ask quietly.

Alistair taps his finger against the table slowly, honey eyes revealing nothing. “Fucked.”

I fan myself with the magazine. “Good fucking lord. I must be hard up if you’re making me sweat.”

Two hours later, we still haven’t moved. Heavy snowfall overnight means we’re stuck in the hangar, and most of the commercial flights are grounded, too. Service is spotty, and I entertain myself by making bracelets. Another hour passes, and we’re all making bracelets—except for Alistair, who is glaring out of the window.

He’s in a worse mood than usual because Conor Gallagher decided to give out the address of where we had the meeting. It’s something Alistair was prepared for, the home was rented and only used for those meet-ups, but it was a clear message that my mother’s family is out for blood.

“Looky,” I say, waving a yellow and black bracelet to get Alistair’s attention. “Wasp colors for our resident grump.”