Page 51

DENVER

The adjacent elevator doors are sliding closed as I step out of the one I’ve ridden up in. There are only a few apartments whose main doors are on the same level as Sinclair’s. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen an elevator getting used by someone else when I’ve been here.

I knock at her door, one hand holding the travel mug she brought for me this morning.

Only now it’s filled with a smoothie for her from her favorite truck.

My eyes drop to the sticker I’ve stuck to the mug.

It’s a cartoon banana, with the text, ‘I find you very appeeling . ’ My lips quirk.

It’s Sinclair and Molly all over, they’ll love it.

Lizzie and Dixie left not long after Sinclair drove away. I hated letting her go, but we straightened everything out. She knows now. She knows who they are, and she knows the demons from my past. Why I’m extra protective over her. Why I’m obsessed with her safety.

I can’t lose her.

I wouldn’t survive it.

She’s taking longer than usual to answer, so I knock again.

The only thing we need to do now is tell Sterling together.

I crack my neck, which does nothing to ease the tension that melds itself to my muscles each time I think about how I’m lying to him.

But no matter what he says, I’ll handle it.

I’ll take anything he can throw at me. As long as he doesn’t ask me to give up his daughter.

No one could ever make me leave her willingly.

“Denver.” Sinclair smiles as she opens the door, and my heart skips a fucking beat at the way my name sounds coming from her lips. But it stops dead like it’s had a thousand volts blasted through it as I look at her face.

“You’ve been crying.”

“What? No, I haven’t.”

“Your eyes are red, don’t lie to me.” Unease prickles up my spine as she flaps her lips searching for an excuse.

She’s never speechless.

She was fine when she left me a few hours ago.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine.” She takes the travel mug from my hand and looks at the sticker on it. “I’ve not seen this one before.” She tries to smile, but it’s weak, too affected by whatever’s made her eyes puffy.

“Is it because of Liz wearing my?—?”

“No. No ,” she repeats more firmly. “I know nothing was going on. I haven’t even thought of that again, it’s nothing… I…”

She trails off, probably hoping I’ll drop it, so I change tactics. “What were you doing before I got here?”

Her eyes shift to the side, and she shrugs. “Not much.”

“Sinclair?” I warn. “Did someone do something to upset you?” The departing elevator as I arrived springs to mind. “Who was just here?”

“What makes you think someone was here?” she asks.

But she can’t hold my eyes for longer than a second. Alarm bells blare in my head.

“Was it your father? Sullivan?”

“Denver… it’s fine. Just come in.”

I stay rooted to the spot, my body expanding as I drag in a slow, deliberate breath to keep my cool. “Who the fuck made you cry, Sinclair?”

“No one.”

“Who was here?” I grit.

Her eyes pinch. “It doesn’t matter,” she whispers.

“Who?” I growl.

She falters, her eyes roaming over me, studying me. She knows I won’t let it drop until she tells me.

“Brad,” she says quietly. “But it’s fine. He didn’t upset me. It wasn’t?—”

I’m spinning on my heels, striding toward the elevators as she runs after me.

“Denver! Stop! He didn’t do anything, I swear!”

But her words hit my back as I barrel into the waiting car and punch the street level button so hard the display around it cracks.

“Stay here,” I bark as she catches up with me.

The last thing I see is her pale face as the doors slide closed.

The asshole is in the deserted lobby, texting on his phone with a smirk on his face as I fly out of the elevator. His eyes widen as he sees me storming toward him.

“You!” I hiss, jabbing a finger in his direction. “Don’t fucking move!”

He tucks his phone into his shorts pocket and does his best to puff out his chest like a prized jerk. My nose grazes his as I slam to a halt, all the blood in my body reaching boiling point.

“What did you do?” I snarl.

He takes a step back, and I take one forward, towering over the pathetic piece of shit as he looks like he’s about to piss himself.

“I…” He gulps. “Nothing. I never touched her. We just talked. She said she’s missed me.”

I grab him around the neck of his T-shirt, and he chokes out a rough gasp as I lift him onto his toes. “Lie to me again and I’ll rip out your fucking tongue.”

He pales. “You won’t.”

“Try me.” My lips curl as I tighten my grip on him. “I’ve never fucking liked you. The way you look at her. The way you try and put your filthy hands on her. Always chasing an opportunity to get that other inch in, hey?”

His eyes narrow. “You know about that? You know that I was her firs?—”

“You weren’t fucking anything!” I roar, moving us back until Brad’s back slams into the wall. “You were nothing to her. You are still nothing to her. And you never will be. You tried to take advantage of her when she was grieving.”

“Like you’re not abusing your position as her bodyguard ?” He sneers the word. “You’re meant to work for her, not pine after her like a pathetic dog. She’s way out of your league.”

I slam my fist into the wall beside his head, making him flinch. He tries to jerk his chin up, feigning some bravado bullshit.

I lower my voice to a bone-chilling whisper. “Come near her again and I will take you apart piece by piece.” I press my forehead against his, pinning his head to the wall. “And if Monty wants, I’ll feed him your tiny dick, then let him shit it out in Central Park.”

Brad swallows, but his Adam’s apple gets stuck above my fist, and he makes a weird gurgling sound instead.

“You don’t want to know what my body count is,” I snarl. “But you’d be the first one I’d actually enjoy.”

I drop him like a sack of shit, and he bends over, coughing and clutching at his neck.

“You’re a fucking psycho.”

I wait until he lifts his head, his eyes meeting mine. “I’m glad we understand one another,” I say calmly.

He stands and his eyes flick to something behind me.

“Denver!” Sinclair yells as she runs out of an elevator. “What the hell are you doing?”

Brad straightens up, his attention bouncing between the two of us. “You need to hire some new fucking help,” he says, coughing.

My upper lip curls against my teeth with a snarl as I step toward him.

“I’m going, Sin. Will you be okay?” he asks her.

“I’ll be fine,” she says, rushing to my side as Brad backs away.

His eyes continue to ping-pong between us. “Be careful with this motherfucker.”

“Just go, Brad!” she snaps as I take another step toward him, my fist clenched.

Sinclair wraps an arm around my bicep and pulls me back. “Leave him,” she begs. “He didn’t do anything. I told you, I’m fine.”

I look at her and her eyes have recovered their usual fiery defiance. She no longer looks like she’s upset or has been crying. She looks ready to go into battle. I turn my body toward her fully, ignoring Brad as he takes the opportunity to get out of the building at a run.

“Why did you do that?” she snaps. “I told you I was fine. He could report you for assault.”

“He won’t.”

She glares at me. “It would serve you right if he did. I can’t believe you!”

“He made you cry,” I grit.

“No!” she cries. “He didn’t! I don’t know why I’m even…” She throws her arms up in the air. “Why didn’t you listen to me?”

“Sinclair?” I reach for her, but she’s already stomping back toward the elevators. “Tell me what the hell he was doing here?” I snap at her retreating back.

I race after her and get inside just before the doors close.