Page 70 of Taking Denver

I scroll through my list of contacts, lifting my chin as I tap Isabelle’s name and hold the phone to my ear. It rings three times, and Isabelle says nothing when the call connects. No greeting, no anger that I survived another attempt on my life.

I almost wish my mother-in-law would scream at me. I want to be blamed, to be hurt, to die for what had happened to Wyatt. But I can only hear shaky breathing—fear or anger. Or simply grief.

“You need to leave,” I say. “Ranger is coming for you, and he won’t give up. Buy a plane ticket with cash, take what you can, and if you need money?—”

“I don’t want your money.” Isabelle’s voice shakes, and I squeeze my eyes closed.

“If you need money, just call me.” I’m ready to hang up, to toss my phone away like it’s close to catching fire.

“Admit you did it,” Isabelle says, her voice gaining strength. “Just… admit it. Admit you killed him.”

I look across the throng of dancing bodies and neon lights. Of laughter, drinking, celebration, and then at Ethan’s table. He’s gone, no doubt furious or upset at seeing how I was with Ranger. Another person hurt; another man broken because of Denver Luxe.

“You don’t have much time. Good luck.” I hang up.

I have no time to process the lump in my throat or worry about the repercussions of what I’ve just done. A commotion below catches my eye—Axel is here. He’s in Zeke’s face, the two men arguing.

“Shit.” I leave the office, thundering down the stairs and into the noise of the club. The music booms, the smell of perfume and hot bodies stifling. Harley is by my side.

“Should I call security?” she asks.

“No, I’ll deal with Axel. Just make sure no one takes photos.” I get to the VIP level fast, stepping over the ropes and positioning myself between Axel and Zeke.

“Axel, back off,” I say, my ears already aching from the pulse of the music.

“This guy was all over Izzy!” Axel says, pointing at Zeke.

“You’ll forget Izzy’s name by tomorrow!” I say. “Back off!”

Axel glares past me and at Zeke. It might have been a mistake not to call security. There’s nothing I can do, not really.

“Your dad is outside, Ax,” I say. “He won’t be happy if you do this with everyone watching.”

Axel’s posture changes suddenly, no longer squared up but shrinking back. “Fuck. Sorry, Denver.”

I glance behind me. People are looking; most are filming. Security is trying to move everyone back, but there are too many people eager to look at fucking Deluxe. One guy is close to the ropes, camera out, reaching for me.

“Stop that!” Axel shouts, trying to snatch the phone away from the stranger.

“Axel, don’t,” I say, moving between them, facing Axel. “Go before this gets worse.”

Camera lights flash. The guy is pawing at my arms, trying to turn me, talking in my ear about getting a good selfie. More camera flashes, people are calling my name, thatgoddamnnickname. The guy has his hand around my arm, and I can feel my blood boiling. I’m so fuckingtiredof people thinking I’m their source of entertainment.

Suddenly, his hands are gone. There’s a shout, a sickening crack, and I spin on my heel. The man is on the ground, his nose bleeding, Ethan standing over him.

I stare at Ethan wide-eyed, and he shakes out his fist, already looking apologetic. And now everyone’s cameras are pointing at him.

“Nice!” Axel says, laughing. He leans over the ropes to shake Ethan’s hand. “Beat me to it. What’s your name?”

Ethan glances at me before shaking Axel’s hand. “Ethan.”

Axel catches my eye and grins. “Oh! This is Ethan?”

I flush from the fight and the fact that Axel is meeting my non-boyfriend for the first time.

“What do you want me to do, Denver?” Dean, the club security, asks in my ear.

I drag my attention from Axel. “Destroy every phone you see. I don’t give a shit what they say. And anyone filming, throw them out. They’re banned for life.” I turn to Axel. “Go. Take your friends out the back way.”

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