Page 91 of Freeing Denver

“Well, you’re failing!”

“I have savedthousandsof women with the information I pass on,” he whisper-hisses at me. “Women who weren’t murderers.”

My lip trembles, my voice breaks, and I want to scream at him. I want to hit him, push him away, cry for what’s happening to me. “So, because I’m Denver Luxe, I deserve this?”

He searches my face, releasing his grip on me. “… No. No, I—” He exhales so deeply I feel it in my soul. “Eli is already watching me closely. I’ve managed to pass off the information leaks as being other rats, but I’m the common denominator here, and it won’t be long until he figures it out, especially if you go missing.” We stare at each other, and any hope I had fizzles out. “Denver, exactly four people know the truth about who I am. You, my boss, his boss, and me. I knew what I was signing up for, and I knew I’d have to make tough calls about who I saved and who I didn’t.”

I palm away more tears and lift my chin. “And I’m one of those tough calls.”

In the dimness of the room, his eyes shine, and he nods. “Yes. You are.”

Chapter 27

Colt

The thumping of the music beneath my feet grounds me. It also drowned out the screams from the man I just killed, which is helpful.

Leaving the bathroom after washing off most of the blood, I take slow, measured steps to the office and sit behind the desk.

My phone is lit up, a message from Lewis on the screen.

LEWIS: LA was a dead end. Just some fans talking shit.

I stare at the text, my heart no longer deflating. At this point, I’m surprised it’s still beating. It feels as if my soul has become the only thing keeping me alive, and even that is a twisted, dark thing.

ME: Are you coming back?

Lewis reads the message immediately.

LEWIS: I’m gonna call in some favors in San Diego. Will keep you updated.

I know why he isn’t coming back. The same reason he left so quickly. This place, our home, reminds him of her, and he can’t stand being idle when we already know she probably isn’t in the city.

Slouching in the chair, I stare at the other messages. Dozens of people I trust across the country looking for one person, but every update is the same. A dead end. A lie. A rumor.

It’s never her.

I feel the presence in the doorway before I lift my eyes, but my hackles don’t rise, and I don’t bother reaching for the gun in the draw because he won’t kill me. I’m as much a resource to him as he is to me, even though neither of us wants to admit it.

Ranger Luxe enters the room as if we’re acquaintances, not enemies. Not that I married his ex-wife. Not that we’ve been on opposite sides of a war since the day my brother decided to start one.

He stands in front of the wall of bulletproof glass that separates us from the club below. He’s a domineering presence, a legend in his own right, evil in close to its purest form. I’ll never underestimate him, and the only reason he’s still alive is because I allow it. He knows people I don’t, and vice versa, so I’ll use him if it brings her back to me.

Then I’ll kill him.

“Someone took her when she was a kid,” he says, his tone measured, his dark eyes scanning the crowd. “Nico had men tearing apart her school, the city, anyone she’d come across that day. He was distraught. I’ve never seen him like that. Later that day, he called me and said she’d turned up at home. Covered in scratches. Terrified. She’d waited until whoever took her stopped at a gas station, kicked out the taillight of the car, and stuck her hand out to get someone’s attention. Once they opened the trunk, she ran. She ran, and she didn’t stop until she was home.” He pauses, folding his arms. “She was fifteen years old and three hours away from where they’d taken her.”

I watch him, hating myself for feeling some kind of comradery with Ranger Luxe. He broke Denver. Destroyed her. There’s no coming back from him taking Theo. But he’s also theonly other person in the world who understands that it doesn’t matter how much I lose as long as I get her back.

“Are you trying to tell me she’s a fighter? Because I already know that.”

Ranger is quiet for close to a minute, and when he speaks again, his voice is softer.

“Just reminding myself that it takes a lot to break her.”

“You should know. You tried hard enough.”

Maybe I imagine Ranger Luxe wincing. Maybe I don’t. Either way, when he faces me, his expression is neutral. “I went to see the Marksons.”