Page 53 of Taking Denver

“Then why are you so cruel to me?” I sound like a child, lashing out at a punishment I probably deserve.

He pulls me onto his knee, and locks his arms around me. “I’m harsh because it’s what you need.” I don’t meet his eye, and he tilts my face toward him. “If I have to hurt you to help you, I’ll do it.”

Being this close to him makes his words sound like love. But he’s unashamedly admitting he’d control me to keep me happy, and that isn’t love. It’s obsession.

Ranger runs the tips of his fingers across my jaw. “Promise me you won’t leave me again, little bird.”

His touch does what it always has—ignites something dangerous and dark within me. I nod quietly.

“I’d die without you.”

The words send my heart into a frenzy because he means them. He means them so ardently that I can’t breathe, and while my body heats, my heart hopes. It’s dangerous to want to be loved so intensely, but at least obsession isn’t fleeting.

“I won’t leave you.”

He kisses my cheek. “Good girl.”

“But I’ll never be with you.”

He may mean his declarations of love to me, but I mean my refusals, too. I saw what loving my father did to my mother. I saw the late nights pacing, the bloodstained shirts she washed, the fear—the deep, impenetrable fear whenever we were all outtogether. I won’t live that life. I want a family, I want freedom, and Ranger can offer neither.

I expect him to tense, but amusement sparks in his eye. “Is that so?” His arrogance has me wriggling to escape his grasp, but he holds onto me firmly, his lips close to my ear. “Denver…” And I melt. His voice has me leaning into him. Into the feel of his warm breath on my skin. Hating myself for my weakness, but not knowing how to be any other way with him. “Do you want me to bend you over this table and make you scream until that pretty throat of yours is sore?”

The throbbing between my thighs radiates further, tightening my nipples and clenching my toes—but I won’t let my body decide something for my heart. “Fucking you doesn’t mean I love you.”

“No. Loving me means you love me. And as for never being with me?” He kisses below my ear. “It’s cute that you think I’ll allow you to be anything other than my wife before this year is up.”

I lightanother cigarette and snuggle deeper under the blanket. I have a bottle of wine, my phone is on my lap, and Ethan’s number is open. Day one of being home, and I’m already considering drunk dialing the one guy I should least consider drunk dialing.

I miss his laugh, his closeness, his smile. I’d give anything to be with him right now. I’d give anything to be away from here. But he’s better off away from me. Everyone is.

“Wyatt definitely was.” I snort a laugh, the first half of the bottle of wine taking root. I pour myself another glass, gazing at the view from the terrace.

“Talking to yourself?” Axel drops onto the loveseat and puts his arm around me. “Who’s Ethan?”

I lock my phone. “No one.”

He tickles me. “Denver has a boyfriend.”

I laugh. “Shut up. Have you been asleep all day?”

“Yep. Out all night fucking women, doing drugs, just going absolutely wild.”

“Drugs?” I ask. “Tell me you’re kidding.”

“Okay, I exaggerated on that part. As if your life lessons could ever leave me. ‘Drugs are for losers, Axel!’” he says, imitating my voice.

I point my cigarette at him. “Words to live by.”

He pulls me close. “I missed you. Please don’t leave me again. It’s been fucking awful here.”

I lean my head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. It’s been that bad?”

“Worse than when Mom left.”

I inwardly grimace, chewing the inside of my lip to keep my face neutral. I’d heard how bad things got here when Angelina, Ranger’s ex-wife, had disappeared, leaving her son and husband behind. The reason for her leaving is obvious—Ranger didn’t love his wife. He once told me he married her because he believed it to be the right thing to do. When he met my father and was thrown into this world, his power and presence grew, and Angelina withdrew. Then, one day, she left, and despite Ranger’s indifference, he raged at her betrayal—because her young, attractive bodyguard had left with her. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had happened.

I say, “We’ll get out someday.”

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