Page 99 of Taking Denver

“To make sure he wasn’t going to speak to the police!” I squeak. “And you can talk—you were sneaking out to see him, too!”

“Tokillhim.”

I hit his arm with every word. “You’re. An. Idiot. As. If. We. Haven’t. Been. Through. Enough. Tonight.”

“Stophitting me.”

I point at him. “This stops right now. Do you hear me? Ethan is not a threat. He isn’t going to do a damn thing. You stay away from him.”

“Why do you care so much?” His question stops my tirade, and I grip the steering wheel again. “Do you love him?”

“I—” My exhale is the loudest sound in the car. “I care about him. Do I have feelings for him? Yes. But if love is what we have…” I gesture between us. “Then no, I don’t love Ethan. I love you.”

He has the fucking audacity to smirk.

“Stop that!”

He shrugs. “I win.”

“You do notwin. This is notwinning.”

I almost jump when he rests his hand on my thigh and squeezes. “I’m marrying you. Believe me, this is winning.”

Chapter 33

Denver

Isit in my car and watch from a distance as Harley locks up Pulse. We’re closing early so the staff can get some sleep before helping at the wedding tomorrow, so it’s a little after midnight, and my heart thuds in anticipation.

Three weeks have passed. That time has been filled with wedding planning and photo shoots. We’d given an interview for one of the more popular prints, in which Ranger and I had dressed the part and sat on the sofa, his arm around me, my hand on his thigh.

It was the first interview we’ve ever given, and we span a tale of love discovered after loss. Wyatt died tragically, and Ranger had been my beacon of strength through it all. It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it was far more romantic in print than in real life.

And now the wedding is tomorrow, and I have a few things to do.

If I’m going to have a fresh start, I have to forget the last few years of my life, forget what I did to Wyatt, and move on. But to do that, I have to wipe the slate clean.

Once Harley drives away, I let myself inside Pulse, finding my way into the office using the torch on my phone. I open thefloor safe no one knows exists, remove the false bottom, and stare at the small, red velvet bag.

I reach in and, hands shaking, tip the contents into my hand.

Wyatt’s wedding ring.

The god-awful ring I hate. I’m not sure why I took it that night. Maybe I needed a reminder of what I’d done or that Wyatt had existed. Or maybe, like some killers, I wanted a trophy.

Regardless, I’m throwing it into the water tonight.

I close the safe and leave the office. With each step down the stairs, my heart feels lighter. This is it. A fresh start. No more lies.

I reach the bottom and turn to the exit, and my heart rate spikes.

Detective Hayes is standing at the end of the hallway, leaning against the door. I curl the velvet bag into my palm and clench my fist, hoping he hasn’t seen it.

“What do you want?” I ask.

He grins. “Not happy to see me?”

“No. And this is private property.”

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