Page 37 of Taking Denver

“Did he?”

“Yes.” She gasps as I run the tip of my finger across the lace. “I?—”

I kiss her neck, and she tenses. “Is this what you wanted?” I feel her nod, and I skim my hand up her chest before closing it around her throat. “What’s Donald’s surname, Rose?”

“Connors.” Her voice is barely above a whisper.

“And what’s mine?”

“L-Luxe.”

“And what’s yours?”

She falters.

Fucking cops.

I squeeze her throat, and she tries to free herself, but I hold her tightly to me, my lips against her ear. “I know they’re listening, so I’ll keep this brief. Of all the people to send, they chose a fucking amateur like you?” I shove Rose, or whoever the hell she is, off my knee. She scrambles away and stands, clutching the backs of one of the seats.

I stand.

She seems to find her courage and squares her shoulders. “I’m not a cop.”

“Not after today, you’re not.” I advance slowly. She has nowhere to go, and this would be the perfect place to kill her if she wasn’t an officer. She’ll survive this flight, but she’ll run back to her colleagues with nothing but an embarrassing story to tell. Rose backs away until she bumps into the cockpit door. “Oncewe land, you’re going to get off this plane and quit your job. One, because I said so, and two, because you’re a crappy fucking cop.”

She swallows, her eyes wide. “Fuck you.”

I rest a hand next to her head, bringing my face close to hers and whispering, “I wouldn’t fuck a cop if it absolved me of all my sins,Rose.” My lip curls as I return to my seat. This isn’t the first time the police have tried this. Countless undercover agents have tried to worm their way into my business or life, but years of experience means I can sniff out a cop from a mile away. Especially one as experienced as this ‘Rose.’ I relax in my seat, take out my iPad, and flip open the cover. Rose keeps her eyes on me but doesn’t move. “On second thought, I’ll have a whiskey.” I open my emails, and when Rose remains frozen, I raise my gaze to her. “Or are you incapable of doing that, too?”

Chapter 13

Denver

Irap my knuckles on 309 and wait.

I’d been a coward and waited to do this. I couldn’t face Ethan without having at least a few hours of relaxing. Specifically, bubble baths, self-loathing, and chocolate.

I’m going to end this. It’s not like I have much of a choice. Ranger has already likely threatened Ethan, and continuing to put him in danger would be selfish of me. He deserves more than this. More than me.

The door opens. I hold my breath.

God, why does he have to look so good? It’s like he exudes good guy energy, his dark eyes flashing with concern and relief at the sight of me. Even now, he cares. He says nothing as he opens the door further, and I walk inside.

“Are Sebastian, Zeke, and Ace out?” I ask, rubbing my palms together.

Ethan nods. “Just at the restaurant bar. I was about to head down.”

I resist wilting. “Oh, well, I can come back?—”

“Are you okay?”

I clasp my hands together in front of me and immediately break them apart again. That was what my mom would alwaysdo whenever my dad broke a promise, and I shouldn’t emanate that energy when I’m the one about to do the hurting.

“I’m fine. Ranger said he spoke to you,” I say. He meets my eye, a sharpness developing that I haven’t seen before. “What did he say to you?”

Ethan runs a hand across his mouth. “He told me to stay away from you.”

I refuse to let my gaze drop, but inside, I withdraw. He’s going to end this before I can, and that’s... fine. Tale as old as time, right? Another man hightailing it after Ranger staked his claim. Nothing new. Nothing is ever new.

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