Chapter 20
Denver
The evening cold is like a constant lashing of ice against my skin. I’ve never felt chill like it, and even our brisk walk with my arm through Colt’s does little to warm me.
After Colt left the hotel this morning, I didn’t hear much from him, just a quick text asking how I was feeling and if I was still up for doing something tonight. Given the bruise on my jaw, the ache in my ribs, and Spider’s eagerness to snatch me, I really should’ve said no.
But I’ve somehow convinced myself that last night dissolved into what it did because I left Colt’s side.
The moment he was with me again, I felt secure, and he pulled me from the depths not once but twice.
He saved me, again, so I figure as long as I stick with him, I should survive my time in New York.
And then what?
Do I go home to Ranger? Do I hope that he’ll get some fucking therapy, and our marriage won’t be a disaster?
The letter my dad wrote to me is in my purse, something else I want by my side, and I’ve read and reread it a hundred times.
He said I’m still so young, and sometimes I forget that.
I feel like since meeting Ranger, I’ve lived a thousand lives, and all of them have exhausted me.
I don’t feel almost thirty. I feel like my life is already ticking close to the end, and changing everything now is too damn daunting.
Or maybe I’ll look back on this time and wish I’d had the strength to leave.
“You’re pretty serious for a fun night out,” Colt says.
I sigh, my breath fogging around me. “I’m just thinking about Ranger.”
Where my arm is linked through his, he tenses, and when I try to meet his eye, he won’t look at me. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
The cold suddenly feels colder. “My dad said in my letter than I’m still young and if I’m not where I want to be, it’s okay. I still have so much time. But it doesn’t feel like that.”
“He’s right. You’re young.”
“Don’t you feel older than you are? We’ve been through so much shit.”
Colt’s smile is weak. “I definitely think about other thirty-two-year-olds and what they consider a stressful day.”
“Being late for work?”
“Forgetting my wallet.”
I grin and lean my head on his bicep as we keep walking. “Scratching your car.”
“Definitely not getting shot at.” He sighs. “Wanna pretend again?”
My groan is one of relief. “Yes, please.”
He stops, and across the street I see security coming to a slow halt, too. There are six men out with us, but you wouldn’t know unless you were looking.
Colt faces me and adjusts my scarf. “So, you’re not you, and I’m not me.”
“Then who am I?”
He thinks for a moment, brow furrowed as he reties my scarf. “Denver DeLuca. Grew up in New York a few blocks over. Always had a crush on me but—” I laugh loudly, and he covers my mouth as he grins—“never had the courage to tell me.”
“Me? No courage?” I mumble into his palm.
“And I’m Colt Harland. Too cool for Denver DeLuca.” He laughs as I punch his arm. “But secretly liked her, anyway, so asked her out on this date.”
“Ass. Hole,” I say. “You shouldn’t secretly like me. You should like me at the top of your lungs.”
“Okay. I like Denver DeLuca!” he shouts, and I laugh and cover his mouth with my gloved hand. People passing by either frown or chuckle, and I move closer to him.
“Shush!” I say, smiling so much my cheeks hurt. “Make this date a good one or I’m telling everyone we know that you suck. And then I’m gonna ask out Ronan McEwan.”
I bat my eyes and stroll away, and Colt is quickly by my side.
“You wouldn’t dare,” he whispers, tugging me to his side, his arm around my waist.
It doesn’t feel sexual to be like this with him. I’m not even blushing to be this close to Colt. But I am aware of how Spider found me in the first place.
“Someone could take a photo,” I say.
He holds me a little tighter, and I don’t know why that makes me feel good.
“Worried Ranger might see?”
“Worried he’d hurt you if he did.”
Ranger’s patience with Ethan was only because I was drifting between them both. He stepped back in the same way he did with Wyatt—because he knew, eventually, I’d be Mrs. Ranger Luxe.
Now, that title is firmly mine. If Ranger saw me like this with another man, I don’t want to think what he’d do.
“I’m not worried that Ranger will hurt me,” Colt says. “The only thing I’m worried about is that he’ll take you from me.”
And just like that, as if a thousand lightning bolts had found current through those words, my heart does something it shouldn’t.
The words roll from Colt’s tongue as if he’s said them a thousand times, as if his protectiveness over me is a working part of him that’s always been there.
He doesn’t blink, or blush, or fumble over the sentence, and for some reason, that makes me want to bolt in the other direction.
And not because I don’t want to hear him say things like that.
But because I do.
“We’re here.” Colt nudges me.
I shake off the unusual feeling that’s building in my chest and gape.
“Ice-skating?”
Colt nods. “It’s winter in New York. I’m taking you to the tourist spots.”
Fine by me.
“Is this a good time to tell you I’ve never done this before?” I say after we’ve paid and are sitting on a bench, lacing our skates.
Colt stands. He’s always tall, but with the skates, he’s massive. He holds out his gloved hand and I take it as I stand, wobbling a little. “I played hockey in school. Just hold onto me.”
Of course he did.
The first step onto the ice is terrifying. People are making slow laps of the rink, kids and adults alike, and I’m clinging to the side in a way that would make even Bambi laugh.
“Maybe we should just go for food.”
He grins at me and holds out his hands. “You’ll be fine. Just trust me.”
With one arm fixed to the edge, I reach out and grasp his hand. He skates closer, prying me away from safety.
“I’ll stay right here, okay?” he says, facing me, skating backwards slowly. “Don’t let go of me.”
“You might regret that when I fall.” I eye the other skaters. “This is so dangerous. We’re all running around on knives.” He laughs, and I keep my attention firmly on the ice as I move slowly.
“I’m gonna switch positions.”
“No!” I squeak, looking at him, my eyes wide. “You’re doing what my dad did! Don’t worry, Deedee, I won’t let go of the bike, and before you know it, I’m faceplanting the neighbors’ Sedan!”
He laughs loudly. “Del, I promise you won’t fall.” He shifts to my side, wrapping an arm around my waist, holding us side to side.
I breathe quickly, and at least I’ve forgotten the cold. I’m sweating underneath all my layers and cursing the day I met Colt Harland. But I’m also not falling.
“Want to go faster?” he asks, grinning.
I bite my lip and nod. He stops us and pulls off his gloves and mine, then slides his hand into mine, interlocking our fingers. His palm is warm, grip strong.
“Ready?”
Not even close, but I nod again.
And together, we move forward.
My hands and nose are close to frozen, but with the lights, and the music, and city all around us—I forget.
I focus on the adrenaline, on Colt’s encouraging words, and let him guide me across the ice. I’m laughing through my fear, probably close to breaking his fingers, I’m holding on so tightly. We move faster, and I don’t realize he’s let go until he faces me, his smile bright.
We talk like we usually do. About work, our days, Holly, places we’ve been and places we want to go.
He tells me that Glendale was a bust and Spider wasn’t there, and we vow to keep trying to find him.
He tells me that every Christmas, Holly loves to come and see the tree and ice-skate, and we should all go together.
It’s like it always is with him—easy. Simple.
We may be pretending we’re not who we really are, and that can only last as long as life will allow, but I enjoy it, anyway.
With fresh air in my lungs and a smile on my face, for the first time in what feels like forever, I’m unburdened. I’m light.
I’m happy.
Until I lose my footing and slam into his chest, and he only just manages to keep us on our feet.
I laugh into his coat, clinging to him. “You let go!”
“Because you were ready. Or so I thought.” I lift my head to look up at him. “Let’s slow it down.”
“Good idea.”
He takes my hand again and we stay close as we continue our night.
“How was Holly after last night?”
“She was okay. She slept, which is good. She had a few questions, mostly about why you weren’t at the house.
” My heart warms at the thought of her asking after me.
“I know what you said last night is right. I can’t cancel everything and keep her inside forever.
But how am I supposed to accept that this is her life because I made a life-changing choice when I was fourteen? Her life is my fault.”
“Colt,” I say softly. “You can’t take that on. You never know who will end up in our lives. You can’t make yourself responsible for everything that happens to them just because they’re close to us. You do what you can to protect them, but that’s all you can do.”
My wedding night flashes back to me. To my hands soaked in Ethan’s blood, to the final smile he gave me, to a guitar pick that I keep in my purse alongside the letter from my dad. A life lost because he was in my orbit, because he made the foolish decision to love me, and I let him.
“It’s the question that fucking haunts us, right?” Colt says. “Is it safer to send them away, or keep them close? Holly’s best shield is also her biggest target.”
The words are like a fist to my heart, and I don’t speak for a few minutes. I guess the only way to really keep people safe is to never let them close to us in the first place. But what a lonely, empty existence.
“Holly doesn’t mention friends,” I say. “Does she not have any?”
“Some. Homeschooling was the better option after … last year,” he says carefully, clearly not wanting to mention Wilder’s actions. “She speaks to some of them, but you know kids. They move on quick.”