37. Denver
Chapter 37
Denver
T he room erupts into cheers and camera flashes, and I thread my fingers through Ranger’s as he kisses me. I laugh, flushing like the pretty, contented bride I’m supposed to be before taking my seat. Finally. I’m starving.
The last time I ate was before visiting Pulse. All day, I’ve tried to find some scrap of food to grab, but between getting ready, getting married, and being pulled from one person to the next, I haven’t stopped. Now I’m feeling crabby and snatch a piece of bread before anyone can stop me.
It doesn’t feel like I’m married. It feels like I’ve always been a Luxe, and in my heart, I’ve always known Ranger would be by my side forever. Whether I want him there or not, he will always be close, always loving and ready to die for me. Now, it’s just official.
“I hope you’re not expecting a speech,” Ranger says.
I lean back in my chair. “I expect a lot of things from you, Ranger. A declaration of love in a room full of people is not one of them.”
“And what is it that you do expect?”
I smile. “Obedience.”
“Not a chance,” he whispers.
“Who was on their knees a few hours ago?” I say. “I don’t think it was me.”
“Tonight will be a different story.”
Someone taps their fork against a glass.
“Don’t worry, everyone, the food is almost ready,” the announcer says. “We just have one speech, which the bride wants to make.”
Ranger bristles. He doesn’t know I planned on saying something, and I hope he’s sweating. I stand, and the announcer passes me the microphone.
“As you’ll all know, my husband ,” I say, and the room erupts into cheers, “is a man of few words. He’s more of a… doer, aren’t you, dear?”
A ripple of laughter moves through the crowd. Ranger doesn’t smile.
“So, I thought I’d say something very quickly, and then you can enjoy your free food and overpriced champagne,” I say. “It’s no secret that our lives haven’t been easy recently. There have been a lot of questions about what I’ve done and who I’ve killed. Allegedly.” Uncomfortable laughter this time. “But through everything, Ranger has been by my side, and I want to thank him for that.” I look down at him. “He’s always stepped up. Always been there. Always helped me understand my place. Now, you have me forever. And I have you. And you could say we’re pretty untouchable, aren’t we?”
His smile is small, but it reaches his eyes. A tender look between us. A camera flashes, forever capturing the moment that will likely replace the photographs taken outside a coffee shop three years ago.
“So.” I return my attention to the crowd and raise my glass. “To Ranger Luxe. To me. To everything we are and everything we’ll become. And commiserations to anyone who tries to stand in our way.”
There are confused glances, forced smiles, exactly what I expected, and I sit, satisfied.
“It’s not often you hear the word commiserations in a wedding speech,” Ranger says.
“It’s not often the wife kills someone twelve hours before the wedding. I’m no ordinary bride.”
The night moves on, and when I finally spot Harley, I slide my arm around my friend’s waist and whisper, “I hate these people.”
Harley chuckles. “You hide it well. Also, ‘commiserations’?”
“They all think I’m a killer. Might as well give them something else to chew over,” I say. “Did you check the?—”
“He landed.” Harley lowers her voice, her lips hidden behind a champagne flute. “I’m guessing that me dropping off mysterious packages, booking last-minute flights, and the club burning down all in the same night is just a coincidence?”
“A big one.”
Harley squeezes my hand. “Is this it now? Is this you fully becoming Deluxe?”
My throat is tight because the answer is clear. I stayed not just to protect Axel but also because I want to. If we’d both left, Ranger would never have stopped looking for us, that was true, but we could have kept running. I could have killed Ranger and pinned everything on him, and the police wouldn’t ask a damn thing more about it because that’s all they want, Ranger Luxe dead or behind bars. Instead, I stayed. I married him.
Because yes, this is me fully becoming Deluxe, but I don’t know how to be anybody else.
“We’ll rebuild the club,” I say. “Together.”
Harley’s brows pinch together, eyes wide and sad, but she nods.
I head for the small office the hotel said I could use and close the door behind me, sitting behind the desk.
Axel still thinks I’m coming. He’s landed, and he’s waiting for me, alone. I cover my face with my hands and try not to cry. He’s innocent in all this, and he’d been pulled into this world to save me, and now he has blood on his hands. He might never forgive himself.
I hold my phone to my ear. The international dial tone hums twice before he answers.
“Hey,” I say, trying to sound cheerful. “Did you get there okay?”
“Where are you?”
I close my eyes. “Axel?—”
“Don’t do this to me, Denver. Please come with me. It isn’t too late.”
“I married him,” I say. Silence. Pained silence. “He never would have stopped if I went with you. We’d never be safe.”
“I’d rather be running with you than have you there with him,” Axel says. “He’ll kill you, Denver. That life will kill you. Please come with me.”
I cover my eyes. “I can’t, Ax. I need to make sure he stays away from you.”
Seconds tick by.
“I don’t know how to be on my own,” he says.
I blink back tears. “I’ll text you the address to a lockbox with money and keys to an apartment and a car. I’ll send you more money soon, and I’ll make sure your dad doesn’t see where. This is your chance to be normal, Axel. This is your chance to be whoever you want to be. You have all the money, all the time, all the freedom. What are you going to do with it?”
Down the phone, I hear a car go by. People talking. I close my eyes and try to imagine him there. Free.
“Maybe I’ll become a famous skydiver,” he says.
I smile weakly. “Is that a thing?”
“I’ll make it a thing,” he says. “How about you?”
I palm away tears. “Ballerina. I’d look damn cute in a tutu.”
He doesn’t laugh, but I hope he’s smiling.
“Get rid of this phone and get a new one,” I say. “And if you ever worry that he’s found you, call me. But otherwise, this is it now. Okay?” He doesn’t answer. “I love you.”
“I love you too, sis.”
I hang up and barely hold back a sob. It feels like losing Theo all over again. A part of my heart is gone, and I don’t know how to fill the gap left behind. He’s my family. He loves me the right way, and I love him back.
But I can cry tomorrow. I need to play my part tonight.
The part of Mrs. Ranger Luxe.
I fix my makeup and leave the office. Before I can put a smile on my face, I bump into Martha. She has Wesson on a leash, his floral collar matching the other flowers on display.
“My precious pup!” I croon. “Who was the best ring bearer ever?” He wiggles his booty happily. My attention lands on Martha. “And look at you. You’re sexy, who knew?” Martha tuts but says nothing, and I finally have enough. “Why don’t you talk to me anymore?”
The older woman frowns. “I talk to you plenty.”
“You’ve barely said a word to me since I got home. You don’t even call me names anymore,” I say. “Why?”
It’s something that’s bothered me more than I’m willing to admit. I’ve never had a great relationship with Martha, but our teasing and barbed remarks were always something to look forward to. But since I returned, our relationship has chilled.
Martha sighs, her wrinkles deepening as she glances into the busy ballroom. “I liked your father.” That isn’t what I expected her to say, and my shoulders dip. “And I like Mr. Luxe, but… Mr. DeLuca would not want this.”
Tears burn my eyes. “That’s none of your business.”
“No, it is not,” Martha says, tilting her head, something close to concern in her eyes. “But I like you, too. And I worry.”
I chew the inside of my lip, refusing to cry and ruin my makeup again. “Ranger loves me.”
Martha presses a hand to her heart. “I know that.”
“Then what are you saying?” I cry, exasperated.
“You are better than this,” she says, gesturing at the room. “You are better than what your father settled for.” My lips tremble. “Oh, no tears,” Martha steps close, pulls out a handkerchief, and pats my cheek. “This is why I don’t speak. You’re ugly when you cry.”
I sniff. “Don’t be mean.”
“It’s true. You’re like a pale chipmunk.” An unexpected laugh bubbles free from me. “Much better. Now, I’m taking the puppy home.”
She squeezes my shoulder and turns to leave.
“Martha?” I ask, and she turns back to me, looking past impatient by this point. “What would my father have wanted?”
Her pale blue eyes sparkle. “A happy Deedee.”
She walks away, and I stay fixed in place.
A happy Deedee. What does that even look like?
I picture beaches, waves, a café… a child. A family of my own. A husband who loves and protects me, just as I would him.
A fantasy.
My cheeks ache as I force myself to smile and head into the ballroom. Guests congratulate me and fawn over my dress, my hair, my engagement, and my wedding ring. The hall is filled with business associates, politicians, celebrities, and press from one media outlet that Ranger deems worthy enough to cover our day.
I spot Ranger half-surrounded by men, his brow furrowed, not in concentration but in boredom. He catches my eye, and I take a deep breath to calm the butterflies.
Am I angry at him? Yes. I’m furious. He’d encouraged me to kill my husband while knowing he was innocent—not loyal, but not trying to kill me. Ranger had gone to extreme lengths to give me ample reason to want Wyatt dead, and though I’m unsurprised his obsession had reached such extremes, it still hurts.
But below the betrayal is love that took root six years ago. A desperate need for him, without reason or sense, and one day, it might kill me, maybe kill us both, but for now, I need to accept it. If I struggle against his love any longer, it might only kill me sooner.
I might not be a happy Deedee, but hadn’t Ranger said that happiness is fragments?
Maybe being happy isn’t what I need.
Maybe being powerful makes more sense.
Ranger keeps his gaze on mine. He strides across the dancefloor, ignoring several people who try to grab his attention, keeping his eyes fixed solely on me. His tuxedo hugs the strong, powerful lines of his body, his tall frame even more glorious in an expensively tailored suit.
He pauses before me, towering strength and intoxicating cologne.
“Dance with me,” he says.
My smile is small as I tilt my head in intrigue. “You dance?”
“With you, yes.” He reaches out his hand, palm up, and still never breaks eye contact. “Dance with me, Mrs. Luxe.”
So, I do.
We’d never agreed on a first dance. Ranger had looked at the wedding planner with intense loathing when she’d suggested it, and I hadn’t argued. After the disaster of my first marriage, I wasn’t overly concerned with tradition.
But when Ranger pulls me close, his arm protective around my waist, his other hand in mine, I’m glad I’m not missing out.
Camera lights flash, people look on, and we dance as if we planned for this moment. A slow, almost haunting song combined with the heat of Ranger’s eyes has my body feeling close to liquid. He spins me, my hair lifting as I twirl, and pulls me close again. Tears prick my eyes, and I wish my dad was here. He’d never want this, not in a million years, but he would have found a way to be happy for me.
“I’m sorry,” Ranger whispers in my ear. Words I’ve never heard from him. Words I’d doubted were in his vocabulary, but he says them anyway. He pulls me closer, and I close my eyes. “I’m not sorry Wyatt’s dead, but I’m sorry I put the gun in your hand.”
I can’t cry in front of guests and cameras, but fighting it takes all my strength, and I have none left to respond.
He kisses my ear. “I won’t ask that of you again. I won’t lie to you. I won’t manipulate.” He exhales softly. “I was desperate at the thought of losing you. Terrified of Wyatt hurting you so much that in the end you’d be broken. He needed to die, Denver, even if I hate how I went about it.” He kisses my temple. “I love you. I won’t fuck this up.”
The words curl around my heart and settle there, a tattoo of promises I hope he’ll keep. I need everything he’s said to be true because, without those words, we’re doomed. Doomed to lie, to hate, to argue, to start our lives together in darkness with the only road ahead leading deeper into the abyss. His words are light. Hope.
I rest my ear against his chest. “You could have said that in your vows.”
His laugh is soft. “Consider this my second round of vows, then.” He releases my hand and lifts my chin to lock eyes with me. “I won’t ask you to do anything you don’t want to do, Denver, but I don’t want you to deny yourself it, either.”
My breath feels cold. “What do you mean?”
“Whether you like it or not, Wyatt and Hayes were only the beginning.” He runs his thumb across my jaw, his gaze following the movement. “You’ll kill again when the time is right.”
My heart thuds, and I whisper, “I won’t.”
“You will, little bird. This life requires it, and I know you’re strong enough to handle it. But know that when it happens, I’m here to protect you. Always.”
I will never accept that there is that kind of darkness within me. Ranger gave me no choice but revenge that night with Wyatt, and given any other option, I’d have walked away without pulling the trigger.
I’m not a killer, and I never will be.
Ranger’s gaze flicks behind me, and his jaw twitches. “Why the fuck is Ethan at our wedding?”
I turn to look at the arched entryway. Ethan, Sebastian, Ace, and Zeke are all suited, and the latter two look like they’re at Disneyworld.
“I invited them,” I say, looking up at him, my smile innocent. “Be nice.”
A bold, possibly stupid, move, but I was worried that Ranger would have Ethan killed and use our wedding as an alibi. If Ethan is here, he’s safe.
“Be nice? Are you fucking—” His hand tightens almost painfully around my waist. “Maybe I could forgive you for inviting those idiots, but a cop, Denver?”
I twist to look again and let out a pained exhale when Archer Adler strides in after his brother. He whispers something to Sebastian, who rolls his eyes and waves him off.
“Okay, that was an accident,” I say. “I gave Sebastian a plus one, but I assumed he’d invite a date!”
Ranger releases me. “Deal with it.”
“But we’re married! Can’t we share the chores, darling?”
He snorts. “Not a chance. Good luck.”