Page 49 of Freeing Denver
Colt
“You forgot it.”
“I didn’t forget it,” Denver insists, continuing her search through her purse. “It’s just not here.” I arch a brow at her, and she scowls. “Fine, I forgot it. Taf, can we turn around?”
Twenty minutes into our journey to meet Samuel to finalize the land for the casino deal, and Denver realizes she doesn’t have her gun. Lewis insists she takes it everywhere with her, but this is the second time she’s forgotten it.
“Don’t you judge me, Colt Harland,” she says, pointing at me.
“You could wear a holster,” Taf says from the driver’s seat. “Make it a statement.”
Denver contemplates that. “Do you think Gucci does gun holsters?”
I chuckle and pull out my phone when it vibrates. My smile fades as I read Alistair’s email outlining the list of Ranger’s meetings this week. Almost every family head is meeting with him, bar Dante Capelli and Alexei Volkov.
It doesn’t mean the others will side with him, but it doesn’t look good, either. My schedule is looking similar—eitherarranged meetings or opportunities to bump into powerful men and make our stance clear—that the McEwans are still strong, and Ranger won’t change that.
“Bad news?” Denver asks, her gaze flicking between the phone and my face.
I shake my head. “Nothing unexpected.”
While I’m not keeping things from Denver, I’ve been projecting more control than I actually have, especially when I could see her ready to take a bullet for us a few weeks ago. She would go back to Ranger to end this war, but I won’t let that happen.
Besides, she has her own list of worries without me adding mine, too. Ranger has torn apart most of her businesses in San Francisco and still hasn’t signed the divorce papers. He might know he’s lost her, but he’s clinging to her legally.
We pull up outside the house and Denver opens the door. “Two minutes and I’ll be armed!”
Taf cackles and I grin, watching her go.
“I’ll miss her,” he says.
I tut. “You won’t miss me?”
“I’ve had almost two decades of you. It’d be a nice break.” He winks at me in the rearview.
Denver’s scream pierces the moment. My heart leaps out of the car before I can, and I race up the steps up to the brownstone, throwing the door open. Denver is in the hallway, her hands over her face.
My gun is out. “Where? What?”
She keeps one hand over her face and points into the living room. “I just saw Axel’s penis!”
What?
“What?” I lower my weapon, and Taf collides with my back, almost knocking me over.
“Axel is having sex in the living room!” she hisses, likely more for him to hear than me. I can hear his rushed apologies.
I grin. I can’t blame the guy. He told me that his fiancée called and said she wants nothing to do with him, and they haven’t spoken since. He’s a young, single guy, and he has the freedom to do whatever and whoever he wishes.
“Denver, don’t be so judgmental,” I say, putting my gun away as I approach the living room. And then I see who he’s with. “Alison?”
“Sorry, sorry—” She’s wearing Axel’s shirt and hides behind him.
Taf leans into the room and whoops. “Nice, Alison.”
“Not nice!” I half yell.
“Still want me to be less judgmental?” Denver snaps at me.
