Page 82 of Freeing Denver

“Last chance, David.”

“I don’t know any?—”

I step back and throw the lighter.

Screams fill the space. Wails of horror, of agony, the smell of putrid burning flesh. David screams until his voice breaks, until he can’t scream anymore, and I watch him as he dies, until he’s a mess of melted flesh on the ground.

I can feel Taf’s eyes on me. “What now?”

My gaze travels over the still-burning body. “Bring in the next one.”

I stare past the trees.Past the blur of people coming and going. Past the normality of the day, the sun, the breeze, the realization that we’re leaning into spring.

Past everything, in hope I’ll see her.

It’s strange to be in a crowd but only be looking for one person, but I feel like since the day I met Denver, I’ve searched for glimpses of her in everything.

Maybe that’s falling in love. Seeing the person in every part of your day.

Holly’s giggle fills the air as Wesson chases her, bouncing on his paws as he eagerly waits for her to throw the tennis ball. My niece looks over at me and waves excitedly, and I smile for her.

It’s been almost five weeks since I meant a smile.

I struggled to understand Wilder’s pain when he lost Marnie. I knew it hurt, could identify the agony, but I never stepped into it. I could never truly know what he was going through.

Now I do.

And I understand the temptation to unravel.

More than a month without her. Five weeks of searching, of blood on my hands, of sleepless nights and endless scenarios slicing through my mind.

Of what she’s going through.

If she’s even still alive.

Part of me knows she is, like maybe a light would go out in me, too, if she were gone. And also because I know Spider wants me to wonder. Wants to use her.

My phone vibrates.

UNKNOWN: Nothing in VA.

I close my eyes, letting another dead end wash over me, and try to hold back the urge to scream.

UNKNOWN: FL?

I run my hand down my face before answering.

ME: Cain’s men are still there. Nothing yet.

Cal reads the message but doesn’t respond. He’s looking for her, too.

It didn’t take long to figure out Ranger didn’t have her. I called him the moment I was out of surgery, promising his violent end if he didn’t bring her back. His response was filled with the same stone-like anger and fear I felt.

“What do you mean, someone took her?”

We tore through the country for her. We killed. We burned. We scorched the earth for her.

So far, it’s resulted in nothing.