Page 110 of Freeing Denver
Minutes, and I’m breathing again.
She’s with me. She’s safe.
Reluctantly, I let her go, and she sits on the steps of the manor home. Kneeling in front of her, I cup her face, the relief quickly replaced by rage when I see her split lip and the beginnings of a bruise across her jaw.
“I’m okay,” she says, taking my wrists gently.
But she isn’t. Her cheeks are hollower. She has dark circles under her eyes. Darkness floods my heart when I think of what’s happened to her, what Eli has done, what he planned to do?—
The darkness stutters to a slow and steady trickle when Denver presses my palm against her stomach. To the small, barely noticeable bump.
She smiles at me, her eyes shining, and she doesn’t have to say anything to know that I know.
“Our baby,” I say quietly, my first real smile in months spreading across my face.
She nods. “Our baby.”
My family.
“I love you,” I say, my voice breaking. “I’m sorry I?—”
“None of that.” She runs her fingertips across my beard. “No apologies. No wishes. We made it. All three of us.”
Three of us.
My family.
“Jesus, Sebastian,” Taf says as he takes the steps. “You look like shit.”
I lift my head to see Sebastian leaning against the open doors of the home, pale and bloody. “Thanks. Medical attention would be fucking fabulous.”
Taf is already requesting it through his earpiece as my gaze travels to the other man standing with us.
He’s shirtless, angry red marks across his chest—pieces of his skin missing. He’s watching me warily, eyes darting between Denver and me.
“This is Kitrick,” Denver says, taking my hand. I help her to her feet. “He’s been keeping me safe.”
Kitrick. The man who called me and said he would help get Denver and Sebastian out, and all I had to do was wait. I didn’t believe him. Why the fuck would I? Until he told me something few people know—the robin tattoo. I had no choice but to wait after he said he’d turn off the security systems all around the home, giving us easy and quick access to Denver.
And he’d also mentioned something else.
“Marnie,” I say, looking down at Denver. “Where is she?”
Her light brows pull together. “It … it wasn’t her. Some woman was pretending. Or at least that’s what she said before …she was upstairs. She might still be there.” She tightens her hold on my hand. “Can you check? Check if it was her? She could have lied … everything happened so quickly.”
God, what if she had lied? What if we got this close and it wasn’t her?
“I’ll show you where,” Kitrick says, attempting to hide a wince as he pushes himself off the wall he’s leaning against.
“Dude, I can see muscle I should not be able to see,” Taf says. “You need to wait for this doctor.”
“I’m fine,” Kitrick says, looking at Denver. “Are you all right?”
She nods slowly. “Yeah. I think. But … I can’t go back up there. I don’t want to go any farther into this shithole than I have to.”
I reluctantly release her hand. “Taf, you don’t let her out of your sight.” He gives me a nod, and I kiss her, longer than I have to, longer than I would any other time I’d only be leaving her for a few minutes, but I have a feeling I’m going to prolong every kiss with her from now on.
As Charlie and Cain’s men continue sweeping the house and grounds, I follow Kitrick up the wide staircase and down the hallways. We pass some bodies, but he doesn’t even glance at them, seemingly unaffected by his colleagues’ brutal demise.
