Chapter 22
Colt
Two days pass and Denver doesn’t move. A doctor tells us to encourage her to eat and drink, keep her company and reassure her, and that’s all we can do.
She sleeps so deeply that she doesn’t stir when any of us sit with her.
When she’s awake, she talks to herself, always about Theo.
Alistair has located him in Florida, and I can only imagine Ranger wanted him as far from Denver as he could get.
He’s a healthy three-year-old, and from the photos, he seems happy.
The couple who adopted him had exceptional references, and from their social media posts, they seem like a happy family.
They have no idea the child they adopted was stolen.
Ranger called Denver repeatedly the first day, and I wonder if he somehow knows, or if this is how it’s been since she left him.
Lewis is so wrapped up in watching Denver that I don’t ask.
I’m in the TV room at the McEwans’ after a long day when Ronan claps me on the back. “How is she?”
I exhale as he sits beside me on the couch. “The same.”
It’s day three. I heard the en suite door in her room open and close earlier, but then she got right back into bed.
“You here to see Finn?” I ask.
“Picking up Holly,” he says. “Where is she?”
Holly has spent the day here and asked to see Denver, but I said she needed rest. Apparently, she didn’t heed that. I hear my niece quietly talking above us and sigh, getting up and taking the stairs two at a time to reach Denver’s open door.
Holly’s back is to me as she lies on her side, facing Denver. “Do you like it?”
“I love it, thank you,” Denver says, her voice raspy. She plays with a colorful bracelet on her wrist, one Holly asked me if she could give to Denver earlier.
Holly plays with Denver’s hair. “Is your brain busy?”
My heart aches at the words, and Denver nods, her voice breaking. “It is.”
“What three things do you like in here?”
I close my eyes and rub my face, tears burning.
“I love my new bracelet,” Denver says. “I really like this pillow. And you.”
Holly giggles. “I like that I’m on your list.”
“Holly,” I say softly, and she lies onto her back to look at me. “Uncle Ronan is here to pick you up.”
She looks at Denver. “I hope your brain gets quiet.”
“Thank you.” Holly hops off the bed and darts by me, and Denver gives me a small smile as I approach the bed. “Hi.”
“Hey.” I sit beside her. “How are you feeling?”
She wets her lips. “Tired. Which makes no sense because I’m pretty sure I haven’t moved in days.” She runs a hand through her hair. “Where are we?”
“Finn and Helena’s.”
She groans. “They must think I’m so pathetic.”
“Not even close.”
Her eyes shine with fresh tears, and her lips whiten as she bites them. “Did I dream it?”
I wish I could say yes. I wish I could take all this away from her because no one deserves this. No one.
“No, you didn’t.” My tone is gentle, but it does nothing to stop the tears from falling free. She looks at the ceiling, covering her eyes, her lips trembling. “I’m so sorry, Denver.”
She nods quickly and wipes her tears. “I need to find him.”
I’ve pondered this since speaking with Alistair. I have no idea how she’ll react seeing Theo for the first time. It could make her worse. It could be her closure. I’m terrified for her, but all I can do is follow Finn’s advice and let her take the lead.
“I’ve already found him. The plane is ready whenever you are. We can go right now, if you want.” I take her hand, and she meets my eye. “Or you can wait. Or not go at all. It’s totally up to you.”
It’s an impossible choice. She’ll hurt either way. But barely a minute passes before she says, “I want to see him.”
It’s evening in the suburban street. In the quiet row of homes, a child laughs, and a car passes at the speed limit. Lawns are manicured, and minivans sit in clean driveways.
Denver sits beside me in jeans and a sweatshirt, one leg tucked beneath her.
She’s expressionless as she gazes through the gap in the front seats and through the windscreen.
Her hair is tied back, and she’s totally still, the only movement the reflection of the streetlights in the tears that cling to her lashes.
Lewis and Taf are in the car behind us. Two other men are in the car in front.
Theo’s home is across the street.
“Whenever you’re ready,” I say.
She nods, and we wait.
We pass the hours in silence. Denver doesn’t move, and neither do I. The sun rises, pretty colors across a soft blue sky, but we still don’t move. I ask Denver if she’s hungry. She shakes her head. All she does is stare at Theo’s home, and I wait beside her.
I can’t imagine how agonizing this choice is.
To see the child that she thought was gone, to accept an entire new reality, while also accepting that the person who was supposed to love her most was the one who caused this pain.
Ranger has stolen so much more from her than years, now.
He’s stolen more than letters, a life with the McEwans, her business and her freedom.
He stole her child.
A door closes, and I must have fallen asleep, because I open my eyes. Denver is sitting up, still focused on the window, her breathing fast.
A woman is leaving the house. She’s laughing, her dark hair swept into a bun, and a bag is slung over her shoulder.
A toddler is in her arms.
Denver is out of the car before I can stop her. She strides across the street. I follow, but I’m not fast enough. Denver stops before Theo’s mom, says something and reaches her arms out, and the mother twists away, her face horrified.
“Please—” Denver says as I get closer. “Theo, baby, it’s me. It’s Mommy. It’s—”
“Denver.” I take her hand, but she snatches it away.
“Please,” Denver says, her voice breaking. “He’s mine. He’s my little boy. He’s my baby. He was mine. For a few hours, he was mine—”
The mother shakes her head. “No, no, he’s my son. You don’t get to change your mind!”
“I didn’t know!” Denver sobs, and I wrap my arms around her. “Colt, tell her. Tell her I didn’t know. They told me he died. They—”
“Denver,” I whisper against her ear. “We can’t do it this way. We need to do this right.”
She sags in my arms, her gaze fixed on her son, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“You don’t understand,” she says. “They lied to me. He’s …
he’s my baby. He’s my little boy.” Theo starts to cry, and Denver sobs.
“I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry. I love you so much.
I swear I never wanted this. I never—” Theo’s mother puts him in a car seat, tears on her own face as she gets into the car.
“Please!” Denver screams, falling to her knees.
I keep my arms around her, kneeling in the grass as the woman drives away and Denver sobs. “Tell her, Colt. Please tell her.”
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, kissing her temple. I look over at the car where Lewis and Taf stand. Lewis shakes his head, tears on his face, looking as distraught and helpless as I feel. Taf has his hand over his mouth. “We need to go, Del.”
She shakes her head weakly. “I need to tell him I love him again. I need him to know.”
“We’ll find a way to do that, Denver. But we should go home. Let’s go home.”
She stares at the end of the road as the car disappears. I lift her into my arms and carry her back to the car, placing her in the back seat. She sobs into her hands. She wails, and I pull her onto my lap and rock her in my arms, the tightness in my chest close to overwhelming me.
“He was mine,” she sobs. “He was supposed to be mine.”
There’s not a fucking thing I can say. I can’t promise to get her baby boy back. I can’t turn back time. I can’t kill the man who did this to her unless she asks me to.
I’m helpless. Unable to do anything but hold her as she falls apart in my arms, shatters in my embrace, reduced to ashes from a flame that her husband lit.