36. Ranger
Chapter 36
Ranger
I open my eyes. My heart races and a shiver works its way down my spine, a cool sweat settling over my skin as I blink away my dream. I don’t remember what I was dreaming about, but something has unsettled me so intensely that I’ve been pulled from what felt like a deep sleep.
I sit up, listening. Maybe Axel has come home, but it’s doubtful. It’s unlikely he’ll show up at the wedding tomorrow. The only other person it could be is Denver, but she’s supposed to spend the night with Harley.
I pull on sweats and a t-shirt, checking the rooms she’s usually in, taking my time because I know she’s close; I just don’t know where. I feel her presence like a pulse. Throbbing. Thudding. Keeping me and the house alive.
I find her in the sunroom, sitting in an armchair, her feet resting on a footstool. The window is at her back, and she’s facing me, the moonlight glowing behind her. She’s ethereal. Stunning.
It looks like she’s showered; her hair is wet, and she’s wearing the oversized t-shirt she usually sleeps in. She looks like Denver.
But something is wrong.
“Was one night away from me too much?” I ask.
Her eyes shift to meet mine, and the look she gives me makes me smile.
I know that look.
I thrive off that look.
That look means power.
“Hayes is dead,” she says.
That’s my girl.
I cross my arms and lean against the doorframe. “What happened?”
She reaches across to the side table. I notice the gun lying there, but instead, she picks up a small red bag and empties the contents into her hand.
“He found this,” Denver says, playing with Wyatt’s ring.
Something close to rage surges through me because I should have known she’d kept that fucking ring. All this time, I assumed the men I hired to set up Wyatt’s death had pocketed or lost it, but of course, Denver had it. She’s smart but also frustratingly weak when she wants to be.
“You kept that? Are you stupid?”
She focuses on the ring. “Maybe I’m sentimental.”
“Get rid of it.”
She slips it onto her thumb and holds her hand out. “I might keep it. The great Ranger Luxe taken down by a wedding ring. Quite fitting for our wedding day, isn’t it?”
I take a step forward, ready to snatch it off her finger, but she picks up the gun fast and points it at me.
“What are you doing, Denver?” I ask. “A sudden crisis of conscience over killing your piece of shit husband?”
“Is that what he was?”
I sigh, irritated because I’m tired of this game, and she’s dwelling over shit that doesn’t matter.
She stares at me. “You lied about everything, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t create tapes of him fucking other women.”
“But you did hire them.”
“If all it took was me paying a few girls to say some nice words, and he fucked them, then he was always going to do it,” I say. “I saved you the pain of finding out ten years from now, instead. You’re welcome.”
“‘You’re welcome’?” she whispered. “Everyone is saying he deserved to die, Ranger.”
“Something tells me he can’t hear them.”
She stares at me, her brow furrowed in disbelief, but what did she expect? Regret? Wyatt's death is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. It was a fucking celebration the day he died.
“The life insurance?” she asks.
“You want the truth, Denver?”
“It’d be a nice change.”
I take a few seconds to breathe. Fine. She wants the truth; she’ll get the truth, but it won’t change anything. She’s marrying me today whether she likes it or not.
“Wyatt wasn’t going to kill you, Denver. He never asked Cal to kill you. But there was a chance the women alone wouldn’t have been enough to influence your decision,” I say. “And I knew that if it came down to your life or his, you’d choose yours.”
She doesn’t look frightened. She doesn’t look intimidated. She looks like she did the night she pulled the trigger, and I live for her like this. Alive. Powerful.
“He was innocent,” she says.
“He was weak. He didn’t deserve you. He was stealing you from me, and I wasn’t going to let that happen.”
“I’m not yours.”
I take a step forward. “Yes, you are. He might have married you, but it was me who was faithful to you. It was me that took care of you. It was my bed you came to. It was me you always turned to. He might have married you first, but make no mistake, Denver, you have always been mine .”
Her expression doesn’t change. Her grip on the gun doesn’t loosen. She remains totally calm, as if she expected this to happen all along.
“Did you kill my dad?”
I bite out a laugh. “Why the sudden interest in my kill list, Denver? Did Hayes bring all this shit up?”
“Answer the question.”
“No, I didn’t kill Nico. I can’t take credit for a freak car accident,” I say. “I wish I could.”
She searches my face. “But the will? My dad never wanted me here, did he?”
“Jesus.” I sigh, running a hand down my face. “No, he didn’t.”
She looks like she’s in pain. “You used me.”
“Yes.”
“ Why ?”
“Because your dad thought he could play happy families and leave this life,” I say, my anger bubbling to the surface at the memory of Nico walking away. “This life is blood. It’s buried in your fucking bones—you don’t leave.” I punch my chest. “ Your father betrayed me and everything I did for him by choosing you and your mother. So, I took you.”
Devastation flashes across her face, pain in the deep gray of her eyes.
“Do you even love me?”
“I told you, Denver, I’ve loved you since I laid eyes on you,” I say. “I didn’t want to. I wanted to use you. I wanted to make your father turn in his fucking grave at the thought of you being here with me. I didn’t know I’d fall in love with you.”
It’s the truth. I’d fully intended on ruining Denver DeLuca’s life, but instead, I fell in love. Desperately and foolishly, I fell for her.
She stands, arm straight, gun tight in her grip.
Even now, I want her.
Especially now.
She’s beautiful. I almost hope she kills me because nothing will ever top this moment. This is my heaven.
“I don’t want this,” she whispers. “I want to be happy, Ranger.”
“Happy? Fuck happy.” I almost spit out the words, my anger overcoming my senses. “Happiness is fragments of life, and if you get some, great, but it doesn’t keep you alive. It doesn’t put food in your stomach or a roof over your head.” I point at my chest. “ I do that . You won’t choose happiness over me because we’re fire. We burn, we blister, we bleed, but we stay burning. That’s what you want.”
My heart pounds because I’m prepared to die tonight, but I’m not prepared to lose her.
“Axel is gone,” she says.
I eye her. “What do you mean he’s gone?”
“I sent him away,” she says. “I don’t want him in this life. I won’t have him turn into you.”
I move closer. “Where is my son, Denver?”
“I’ll never tell you.”
A feral rage pours through my blood. “You think I can’t make you?”
“You leave him alone, and I’ll stay,” she says. “You lose him, but you get me. I’ll marry you. I’ll never leave you.”
“This isn’t a negotiation, Denver. I will have both of you here,” I hiss.
“Get on your knees, Ranger,” she says.
“Tell me where my son is!” My voice booms through the house, echoing off the walls, but she doesn’t flinch.
She pulls back the hammer. “Get on your fucking knees. I won’t ask you again.”
I square my shoulders, but I know she won’t hurt me.
“Fine.” I get to my knees. She walks closer, but I don’t look down the barrel of the gun. I look at her.
“You’re not going to kill me, Denver.”
“No,” she whispers. “I’m not.”
She points the gun under her chin. My heart stops, and a cry escapes my lips as I reach out my hands. “No!”
She squeezes the trigger.
I look away, eyes wide, my heart hammering in my chest. A thousand fears tear through me, pulling me apart, images of her blood spattered across the floor, eyes lifeless, heart stopped, my Denver, my love, my world gone. Tears sting my eyes for the first time in too many years. I choke on the fear, hoping it suffocates me because I can’t live without her. I am nothing without her.
I wait for the sound, the crack of the weapon, the blood spitting across marble floors.
But it’s quiet.
“You say I made my dad weak.” Her voice climbs into my soul. “But look at you. You can’t even watch me die.”
I look at her, frozen in place, the gun still under her chin. Denver drops her shoulders, throws the empty gun on the floor, and it skids away.
“You leave Axel alone,” she says. “Or next time, it will be loaded.”
I stay on my knees, breathing heavily, and she walks around me. A sheen of sweat spreads across my neck, and I sit back on my feet, trying to pull air into my lungs.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“To get ready,” she says. “Or did you forget we’re getting married today?”