Page 41 of Finding Denver
“When Daria died, Finn went to Ranger,” I continue. “Ranger refused to take anything from him. Said he didn’t need or want the McEwans’ help.”
Denver frowns, chewing her bottom lip. “He was probably hurt. He’s proud.”
We sit quietly, the hair tie game forgotten. The mood wasn’t exactly light before, but now it definitely isn’t.
“Why now?” she asks.
“Why now what?” I frown, wondering if I’m more drunk than I realize. “Does that make sense?”
“Why are you letting me see you?” she asks. “Why now?”
I exhale deeply and grab the bottle again. I told myself I’d do anything to make her see that hurting Wilder is pointless. I need to find her humanity and cling to it. But I didn’t think we’d talk about this side of my life. Amy feels off limits, but I can talk about Callie. “My wife died.” My throat is thick and bitter as I swallow. “The only reason I worked behind the scenes was to keep her safe. And in the end … that amounted to fuck all.” I avoid her eye. “Don’t pity me. Your husband is dead. I don’t pity you.”
“Yeah, but I killed that fucker.”
Laughter bursts from my mouth. “Did you just confess to murder?”
She shrugs. “Who cares? Everyone thinks I did it anyway. And what are you gonna do? Snitch on me?”
“True. So, how did that happen? He was cheating, right?”
She waves a hand. “It’s a long, boring story. I’ll write a book one day. Tell me someone you’ve killed so I don’t feel so lonely.”
I think for a minute. “I killed my boss’s son.”
“Boring. Next.”
I laugh. “How is that boring?”
“Because everyone knows you did that. Whenever I asked about you, it was always, ‘Oh, he killed Billy “Big Hands” Craig.’ Ridiculous nickname, by the way.”
“Agreed. Okay, I’ll tell you something no one knows. It was an accident.”
She frowns. “What do you mean?”
I can’t believe I’m telling her this, but I definitely am a little drunk, and the consequences seem too far away to touch me. Besides, it’s been twelve years.
“Wilder and I knew we were going to do it. The guy was a prick, he was threatened by us, and his dad had already agreed to retire and give us everything. Billy was only alive because he had a reputation. And he was fucking huge,” I say, remembering his six-foot-eight frame. He was called Big Hands for a reason. They were like fucking shovels. “But we had no idea when or how we were going to do it. Then one night I was leaving a warehouse, and I was in a rush, and I reversed and didn’t realize Billy was behind the van. I knocked him into the Hudson.”
Denver stares at me. It takes a second for her lips to start twitching. “You knocked him into the Hudson.”
I nod slowly. “And he never surfaced.”
Her lips tighten and she slaps her hand over her mouth as she erupts into laughter, and I join her.
“The story you’re known for—” She’s choking on her laugh. “Thelegendarystory of you killing Billy “Big Hands” Craig was afluke?” I nod, grinning, and she wraps her arms around her stomach as she laughs harder. “You’re the worst gangster ever!”
My smile is hurting my cheeks, and maybe it’s the alcohol, but I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t … worrying. Burdened. Buried under the weight of my brother’s fuck-ups and my endless responsibilities. And it’s fucking strange that I feel this way with Denver Luxe, of all people.
She exhales loudly, resting her head back and staring at the ceiling. Now I’ve spoken about Callie, I can’t help but wonder what Denver meant when she mentioned Amy. And how she even knows about her, given that she died years ago, and I kept her as hidden as I have Holly.
“How did you know I had a daughter?” I ask.
Denver takes a few beats before answering. “I saw you with her tonight.” My heart races a little fast. Too fast. “It was just by chance. I was going for a walk and you both just appeared in front of me. She was asleep in your arms, and?—”
She saw me with Holly.
She tilts her head to look up at me. “She looks just like you.”
