Page 109 of Freeing Denver
Fear grips my lungs as I take in the sight before me.
The gates are blown open, the bronze metal hanging from its hinges, smoke rippling from the small security office. Bodies litter the ground, and shots fire from all sides, punctured occasionally by shouted commands.
An early morning mist creeps across the grassy grounds, disturbed only by the line of armed men taking coordinated steps toward us. It’s a sea of black clothing, a wall of dozens of men taking out Eli’s security like they’re merely an inconvenience.
And in the center of those men is Colt. My husband. My everything.
Dressed all in black, a single gun in hand, he strides with total confidence into danger. He radiates calm, brow relaxed as he takes men out with the squeeze of the trigger, then moves to the next, then the next.
A smile spreads across my face, and I go to step forward, but Sebastian grips my wrist. It isn’t safe, I know it isn’t, but after nearly two months away from him, I’m so close. Every atom in my body is calling out to him, to cling to him, to finally feel fucking safe again.
A bang behind us has us all spinning and Sebastian pulling me to him.
A cry of relief leaves me when I see it’s Lewis.
My name is closer to a sigh on his lips, and I rush to him. He cups my face, brow furrowed in concern and relief. “You’re okay?” I nod quickly, and he presses his finger to his ear. “I’ve got her.” He winces as if whoever responds shouts it. “The foyer. Yes, she’s fine, she—” He rolls his eyes. “You don’t have to shout, Colt.”
I tug on Lewis’s shirt. “Is it safe to go out? Can I go out?”
He pauses as Colt is clearly bellowing in his ear. “She’s asking—” He tuts. “For fuck’s sake, can I talk? She wants to come out—” He scowls. “No.”
“No to me or no to Colt?” I ask, bouncing on my feet.
Lewis sighs. “He said you have to wait while they check the grounds are cleared.”
Frustration bubbles through me. “I don’t want to wait!”
I’ve waited weeks. I’ve been patient long enough.
Fuck this.
I spin on my heel and storm outside. Kitrick tracks me as I pass, and Sebastian asks what I’m doing while trying to take my hand before remembering his injuries and wincing.
The line of men has stopped moving, but Colt is still at the center, finger to his ear, looking back at the gate and giving instructions. Taf is by his side, guns strapped to his hips, looking more terrifying than he ever has. He runs his fingers through his blond strands, then spots me. A grin quirks his lips, and he nudges Colt.
He faces me, and I can no longer control my breathing. This isn’t a dream, a hope, a prayer. He’s here. He’s really here.
He mouths my name—either from shock or frustration that I’ve gone against the one thing he’s asked of me—but I don’t care. I break out into a run, a sob escaping my lips as my feet touch the gravel and I eat up the space between us. He’s moving fast, his anger at my disobedience clearly melting away and making way for relief.
I don’t remember leaping into his arms, but then I’m in them. My legs and arms are wrapped around him and I’m sobbing into his shoulder, clinging to him with what energy I have left. The ache in my face is forgotten, taken over by the uncontrollable tears that pour down my face and wet Colt’s shirt.
“I’ve got you.” He says it twice, three times more, and every time the words leave his lips, a piece of me unravels further.
Because I’m safe now. I can fall apart, and he won’t leave a single shard behind that would have me feeling less than whole. He’ll collect every piece of me and put me back together again.
“You found me.” I can barely get the sentence out, each word punctuated by sobs.
“I’ll always find you, Del.” His arms are tight around me, loosening only a fraction so I can pull back and look at him. “I’ll always find you.”
Chapter 32
Colt
Ithought I was beyond repair.
I thought that even when I found her, the pieces of my soul that I tore away with every life I took would never return. I had accepted that even when I had Denver in my arms again, I wouldn’t be the same man she fell for because he had become a broken, tortured thing.
But it’s been seconds, and I’m healing.
