Page 132 of Freeing Denver
Alistair taps my shoulder. “Denver asked you to meet her upstairs.” I grin, and he rolls his eyes. “Not for that.”
“You sure?” I ask as I step away from Charlie.
“Yep, but first”—he swats Taf’s arm and whistles at Ronan across the room—“all of you come with me.”
Taf and I share an intrigued look, and we follow Alistair out of the ballroom. We make our way to the empty hotel bar where I found Denver earlier, and Alistair says something to the bartender. She goes into the back and returns with a bag, handing it to him.
Ronan rests his elbow on the bar, and we watch Alistair take out five small, black boxes. He hands one to each of us, leaving the final one on the bar.
“This is the first time since we were kids that we’ll be separated, so I thought we should all have something,” Alistair says as I tilt open the box to reveal the Rolex. “Check the back.”
I lift it out of the velvet and turn it over. Inscribed on the back of the face is:
Hell of a way to go.
I smile and Taf laughs.
“Seriously? This is what you want us to remember?” Ronan asks, grinning wide.
Almost twelve years ago, on a shipment gone wrong, we were all close to death. Trapped in a shipping container filled with guns, we were outnumbered, and none of us would admit we were terrified. We were in way over our heads with the Russians, and while we accepted our fate, Wilder had said, “Hell of a way to go.”
I’d laughed. I couldn’t help it. Then Ronan had. Taf followed. Until we were all laughing so hard, we couldn’t breathe.
By some miracle, we made it out.
Alistair taps the unopened box. “I had to get Wilder one, too.”
I stand with my friends, brothers, who have been by my side since we were kids. Since we sat around that battered kitchen table, eating that good food my mom made, and promised to take over the city one block at a time.
We dreamed. We planned. We conquered.
“Gonna be fucking weird without you here,” Ronan says. “Sure you want to give this all up?”
My smile widens and I slip on the watch, fastening the clasp. “For Denver? Yes. No offence.”
“Speaking of, where is the bride?” Taf asks, admiring his watch. Alistair points up.
“Right,” I say. “I’ll catch you all later?”
I’m still smiling as I take the stairs. I could get the elevator now that Denver isn’t with me, but I think I need the extra time alone. It’s hard to imagine leaving my friends behind, even though I know it’s for the best. It’s a fresh start for the both of us.
I take the keycard out of my pocket and scan it.
“You called for me, wife,” I say as the door closes behind me. I check my phone, and an email about the new house pops up. I smile and tuck it back into my pocket, heading for the bedroom.
Something squelches under my shoe, and I frown, stopping.
A large, red stain is on the carpet.
My heart slams into overdrive. “Del!” I’m steps from the bedroom, and I stop in the doorway.
The room blurs around me, my entire focus the far side of the room, where Ranger sits against the far wall.
Cradling Denver in his arms.
His face is wet with tears, and he’s staring at her. Her head is back, eyes closed, red blooming across the front of her wedding dress.
“This is your fault,” he whispers.
