Chapter 3 #2
I’m about to question why when I lean over—and see the lump of bloody muscle on the ground. I raise my gaze to Dorian, his pale, blood-covered face, and then to Denver, her lips soaked in red.
She bit the tongue right out of his mouth.
One text later, Ranger is knocking on the penthouse, but the sound is closer to a thud. Taf positions himself by the entrance, arm outstretched, gun in hand, ready to fire if this meeting goes south.
The barrel of Ranger’s gun fills my vision as I open the door. I’m not unarmed, but my weapons are holstered, because he won’t kill me until he knows where Denver is—and judging by the tightness of his jaw and hold on the gun, he knows that, too.
He hides his surprise as I back away with confidence, allowing him into the room. JJ is with him, light blue eyes narrowed on me before cutting to Taf. Taf grins at him and winks.
Ranger locks his fierce gaze on mine. “You.”
“Me,” I say. His attention cuts to my forearms for a split second. I’ve rolled up my sleeves to my elbows, and recognition crosses his expression. He knows exactly who I am. “Drop the gun, Ranger. I’m not here to fight.”
“Where is my fucking wife?” he bites out.
“Asleep.”
Rage flashes across his face. “Elaborate. Before I tear off this guy’s arm and beat you to death with it.”
Taf looks mildly amused by the threat but stays in place.
“Spider’s son was here,” I explain. “He took Denver.” Something unexpected flashes in the hellfire of Ranger’s eyes—fear.
A fear I know well, and one I won’t exploit.
“He didn’t get a chance to …” Part of me wants to sugarcoat what I saw, but Ranger seems like someone who would use the truth as fuel for his fire.
“She was on the bed. The straps of her dress were down, but she wasn’t exposed.
He injected her with something and then must have kissed her. She bit his tongue out.”
The lights shine in his eyes, and he says nothing, as if waiting for me to admit to a lie, or to add more horror to the story.
“Where is she?”
I nod at the bedroom door, and he shoulders Taf aside to go to it. I follow and watch from the doorway as the most powerful man in San Francisco gets to his knees.
The lion bows before a deer, a fearless creature going against its nature to worship something far too precious for this world. It’s such a jarring sight that I say nothing.
He takes Denver’s hand. She’s still unconscious, and he runs his fingers across her forehead, brushing her hair back. He kisses her knuckles and stands, taking a beat before facing me.
His voice is low, his words threaded with violent promise as he says, “Tell me where he is.”
I lead him to where Dorian is tied up in the bedroom on the opposite side of the suite. The smell of blood, piss, and burned flesh engulfs the room as Ranger and I stand in the presence of Dorian Eddard. He’s sweating, his skin pale. It’s a miracle he’s alive.
“Why hasn’t he bled out?” Ranger asks, taking off his tuxedo jacket.
“I cauterized what was left of his tongue.”
It was unpleasant, but necessary. Hearing Dorian scream was fun, though.
Ranger removes his bow tie and unbuttons the top of his shirt, his focus entirely on Dorian. It’s strange to stand almost shoulder to shoulder with Ranger Luxe. The enemy of my enemy might be my friend, but it’s a brittle kind of friendship that snaps the moment the object of our hate is removed.
“I need something sharp.”
I arch a brow. “Do I look like I’m on your fucking payroll?”
He casts a glance over my suit. “No. You’d be wearing a nicer tuxedo.”
“That insult would work if we weren’t wearing the same one,” I point out. “In fact, I’m fairly sure we’re the same size.”
“I doubt that.”
This just crossed over from threatening to totally childish with astonishing ease. Ranger steps closer to Dorian, head tilted in intrigue.
“How do I know you aren’t in this together?” he asks me. “That this entire thing wasn’t planned so I’d let your brother live?”
I resist bristling in disgust at the suggestion. “Because what the son almost took from you, the father did take from Wilder.”
Ranger looks at me. There’s no sympathy, no understanding, no kindness in his expression. I’m glad, because I would reject it all, anyway.
Instead, he turns back to Dorian and takes out a knife of his own before gripping Dorian’s sweat-slicked face.
“You touched my wife,” Ranger says, pressing the blade to Dorian’s cheek.
“She bit out your tongue. Now I’m going to cut out your eyes.
” Dorian’s expression morphs into one of total horror as he tries to turn his face away, and Ranger gives him a horrific smile.
“This is what happens when you try to take what’s mine. ”
I watch Ranger from across the suite as he pulls on a fresh shirt that Taf grabbed for him from my room two floors down. I’d planned on staying after the award ceremony, but I definitely hadn’t anticipated giving Ranger Luxe some of my clothes.
He killed Dorian slowly. It was a little annoying, watching him work, especially when he took his time removing both of Dorian’s eyes and somehow kept the guy alive. It was impressive, but a little showy.
“This is snug,” he says, rolling his shoulders.
Bullshit. It fits fine.
“Not as snug as you were hoping, though.”
He ignores me and adjusts his sleeve. “What was the plan before all this happened? Get Denver into bed?”
“No. Flattered you think I’d have gotten that far, though.”
“You’d have ended up in a similar position to Dorian,” he says. “When are you going to ask me?” He pulls on his suit jacket.
“Ask you what?”
“To end this. To thank you for saving her by sparing your brother.”
I say nothing. It had crossed my mind, of course it had, but it seemed tacky to ask for a favor in return for something I’d have done for anyone.
“Colt, let me make something clear to you.” He closes the space between us, and when Taf bristles, I raise a hand, so he stays put.
“I do not care about you. I do not care about Wilder. In fact, I’d have sent you a fruit basket for killing Ethan Defender if I’d known your address.
You saved me a job. So, I can tell you I’ll leave you both alone, but it isn’t me who wants Wilder dead.
It’s her.” He nods at the bedroom where Denver sleeps. “And I like to keep my wife happy.”
He strides past me and into the bedroom, and when he returns, Denver is in his arms. She looks so small against him that for a fleeting moment, I want to take her back.
I straighten up off the bar. “You say you want to keep her happy, but you’ll allow her to continue fighting a battle that will kill her.”
He smiles at Denver, his gaze drifting over her face. “One of you will die, but it won’t be her.”