Page 67 of Freeing Denver
She bats her lashes at me. “Husband.” She removes her scarf and looks at Steven. “Still not talking?”
“Nope,” Taf says, biting into his apple. “Quiet as a mouse.”
Denver frowns. “Just cut his balls off.”
“Nah, he’ll bleed out,” I say, holding the nail gun to Steven’s thigh and firing. He screams, throwing his head back. Quick pants leave his mouth. “Memory improved?”
“Fuck you!” he bellows.
Denver tuts and searches through her purse, producing a small flip knife from her purse. Her father’s. She pulls out the blade and approaches Steven with an air of impatience. “If you cut his dick off, he’d bleed out,” she corrects, getting to her knees. “His balls will be fine.”
Placing the blade between her teeth to free up her hands, she starts unbuckling his belt.
Taf gives her an intrigued look. “Seriously?”
She nods, taking the knife from her mouth and whipping the belt free of the loops. “There are no major arteries in the scrotum. I can cut them off fairly easily, not a lot of bleeding. It’ll hurt like a?—”
“The Morellis!” Steven screeches, wriggling in the seat and staring at Denver. “I work for Massimo!”
Denver and I share a look—one of quiet concern.
She returns her attention to Steven. “The attempt on our lives. Was Ranger involved?”
Steven shakes his head rapidly. “No, all his deals with the families in the city have dried up. No one has heard from him since his kid died.”
Denver stands, folding the knife back into the handle.
So, the Morellis have finally turned on us. It was something we saw coming, but now it’s been confirmed, we have to move. They have the ears of too many families—we need to retaliate, swiftly, before this disease grows.
While Taf takes care of Steven, we take the narrow staircase down to the bar. It’s mid-afternoon and quiet, but Lewis is in conversation with some of the patrons. His brows raise in question when he sees us, but our expressions must tell him everything, and he quietly takes us to the car.
Once we’re home, Denver gets in the shower, and I call Alistair to update him.
He sighs heavily down the line. “Fucking great. I’ll meet with Sabina, get her on side. She won’t have supported this.”
“That sounds like a good idea.”
Alistair is quiet for a beat. “How’s Denver?”
The question almost has me toppling over. I sit on the end of the bed. “She’s good. We’re actually thinking of having a little get-together. A post-wedding wedding. If you want to be there.”
He’s quiet for a moment, and I focus on the carpet. I want him there. Denver even wants him there. She’s desperate for us to fix this.
“Sure. As long as you don’t have another fucking bachelor party. I barely survived the first one.”
I smile. “Chickenshit. You did fine.”
“I was so drunk I bought a boat.”
“A very pretty boat,” I remind him. “And you’re a great captain.”
He laughs, and my grin widens. It feels like forever since we talked like this, and I can already feel the tension leaving my shoulders.
Alistair says, “Listen, I’m fucking sorry. I’m sorry for being the way I am with Denver … I just have this splinter in the back of my brain that makes me suspicious of her, and I can’t pull it out. I want to let it go. I will let it go. You’re married. You married her.” He sighs. “I waited to see if you’d call and want to talk about it, and you didn’t.”
“Can you blame me?”
“No, I can’t, and that’s when I realized this has all gone too far. I’m missing out on this. And I forgot … I forgot that this can’t be easy for you. That it must be weird to be married again. I forgot how you felt in all this, and I’ve not been there for any of it, and I’m so fucking sorry, Colt.”
