Chapter 33
Colt
Wesson won’t stop staring at her, and neither can I. I asked Charlie to bring the dog to the house, knowing that when Denver woke, she’d want him here. I’m glad I did, because seeing them sleeping together in our bed makes me feel better about leaving her alone.
She sighs softly when I kiss her temple, and I think she mumbles that she loves me, and I say it, too.
Each step downstairs brings a new bodily ache. The last few months, I’ve been wound so tight I thought I’d never be able to relax again. But I unclench my jaw and relax my shoulders, and as the seconds becomes minutes, I allow myself to accept that she’s home. My girl is home.
Alistair is in the kitchen, eyes narrowed as he watches Kitrick. The fed is leaning against the kitchen side, arms folded, returning the heated glare. His shirt is still off, bandages wrapped around his chest to help protect his exposed flesh.
“Getting along?” I ask, opening the refrigerator to take out three bottles of water.
Alistair grunts and takes one from me. I hold the second out to Kitrick, and his eyes dart between me and the drink before taking it.
“What? You think cos I’m a good criminal that I’m a bad host?” I ask, unscrewing the cap and tossing it onto the counter.
Kitrick takes a few swigs then places the bottle down. “I was very close to being assigned to your case. Feels fucking weird to be standing in your kitchen instead.”
I snort a laugh. “Do you know how many cops have tried to worm their way into my family?” I look at Alistair. “Remember Greg?”
“Greg.” Alistair clicks his fingers. “That was his name. He cried after forgetting his backstory.”
Kitrick glares at us. “You think it’s funny?”
“I think your time is better spent on men like Spider,” I say. “So at least you were making the most of our tax dollars these last few years.”
Alistair chuckles. “Tax.”
The front door opens and closes and Taf saunters in, covered in blood and dirt. JJ isn’t far behind, looking equally disheveled.
“What a fucking night,” Taf mumbles, slouching against a stool. JJ immediately goes to a cabinet to take out a bowl and cereal. He prefers it without milk, which is fucking odd. “I stink. Where’s our girl?”
I nod at the ceiling. “Asleep with Wesson.”
“You’re Anthony Kelly,” Kitrick says, gaping at Taf.
Taf folds his arms, looking particularly smug. “The one and only.”
“Do you know how many crimes you’ve been linked to? You’re fucking unhinged.”
Taf’s grin widens. “Well, fuck. Thanks.”
“That’s not a compliment,” Kitrick says.
JJ spoons dry Lucky Charms into his mouth. “Make it a compliment before I kick your ass.”
I lift my hand and everyone falls quiet. “Have you called someone to pick you up?”
Kitrick nods, tearing his gaze from my friends, the people who’d likely earn him a gold star if he brought them in. “Yeah, but there was no answer.”
“Family?”
He scratches the back of his neck. “My sister won’t be happy to see me. I’ve disgraced the Marshall name, remember?”
JJ stops crunching his cereal. Taf’s expression falls.
“Did you say Marshall?” I ask. “As in, Detective Quinn Marshall?”
Kitrick pinches the bridge of his nose. “You know my sister, then.”
I lean against the kitchen counter and wonder whether this is good or bad luck to have Quinn Marshall’s brother in my home, and potentially in my debt.
“Yes. She arrested Denver,” I say dryly, and Kitrick sighs. “Stay here for the night.”
Everyone looks at me with a resounding, “What?”
I roll my shoulders, tiredness washing over my muscles. “If anyone is left of Spider’s men, they’ll want him just as much as he wants us. He goes out there alone, he won’t last the night. He stays.”
JJ pulls a face. “But … he’s got … a badge.” He gags as he says it, and Taf laughs.
“He protected Denver,” I say. “That’s enough for me to trust him for now. She’d be pissed if I kicked him out. He stays.”
I’m slouched in the armchair in the bedroom, my elbow propping up my head, and my neck aches when I shift in place.
Morning light filters through the window and Denver is still sleeping, Wesson as close to her as he can possibly be.
I wanted to get into bed with her, but I don’t know how she’ll react if she wakes up and forgets where she is.
Until I talk to her, I don’t want to get too close. I’m terrified of scaring her.
Wesson exhales deeply, stretching out his legs, then seems to realize his new position has separated him from Denver. He moves close again, plastered to her side. She still doesn’t wake.
A gentle knock on the door has my head turning, and Taf pops his head in. He gestures at me to come into the hall, and despite the urge to not move from my place, I know he wouldn’t be here unless it were important.
“Ranger is here,” he says quietly.
I instinctively glance toward the end of the hall.
I didn’t tell Ranger when we were sending Sebastian in because his continuous reckless behavior could have put Denver at risk last night.
He’s been “shoot first, ask questions later” since she disappeared, and while I’ve reveled in my own special brand of violence, I did so with purpose. Ranger just wanted to hurt things.
But it isn’t like I can hide our success.
I go to the stairs and Ranger glares at me when I reach the bottom.
“You didn’t tell me.”
“You were a danger to her and yourself,” I say simply. “Why are you here?”
His jaw tenses, a blaze of fury in his eyes. “I want to see her.”
“She’s sleeping.”
“She’s my—” He stops himself, a wise choice, because if he’d called her his wife, he might not leave this house alive. “I have a right to at least see her.”
“You lost your rights to her a long time ago, Ranger,” I say. “Your help these last few weeks doesn’t erase what you did to her. If she wants to see you, she will, but I’m not waking her up so you can ease your conscience for the past eight years of mistakes.”
He takes a step forward, and so does Taf, but neither man makes it far, because Ranger stops. He stops and his anger dissipates, and I know without turning that Denver is on the stairs behind me.
Ranger stares at her, loud desperation in his eyes, and something we share comes to life in his expression—the constant overwhelming urge to touch her.
Denver slips her hand into mine as she reaches the bottom of the stairs.
Ranger’s lips tilt into a small, concerned smile. “Hello, little bird.”