She said I had a tornado wrapped around my heart—tightly coiled and mostly contained until it came to sex.
At the time, I’d denied it.
It made me sound like a monster, even if she tried to assure me it was just a primitive part of me taking over. That it was normal. That some men were more aggressive than others. But as we sneaked into the stables again and again, I’d learned something new about myself.
She was right.
I couldn’t stop it.
The Ren who would give his own life to save Della’s vanished during sex when he no longer thought about others but himself. Only himself.
I hated it.
And as I shared hollow fucking with faceless women to rid that steadily building desire for Della, I couldn’t ignore it any longer.
I wasn’t as noble as I liked to believe.
In all aspects of my life, Della came before me. I sacrificed everything I could for her. I gave her the clothes off my back, the sweat off my brow, and the promises from my heart.
Nothing was too much.
No request too crazy.
But when it came to sex…I wasn’t giving.
I wasn’t selfless.
I wasn’t soft.
And that was yet another thing that kept me awake at night, because even if I could come to terms with sleeping with Della, how the hell could I ever tell her that the Ren she knew would not be the Ren she loved when I was inside her?
I trembled in my sleeping bag as I shoved aside such thoughts and focused on putting her mind at rest even while mine rode a stormy sea.
Me: Okay, Della. If you need a public display of affection, I’ll do it. I’ll come to his place tomorrow once everything is done, and I’ll hug you in front of him. I’ll lay claim to you. I’ll kiss you if that’s what you need. But then, we’re leaving, and we’re never coming back.
I didn’t mention my rapidly building concern that, once we were in the forest, surrounded by all-seeing trees and all-knowing birds, things would change once again.
That the fight to see her as my…lover…and not just my friend, was just the first of our many problems.
Hopefully, by the time we were alone and ready to do whatever it was we’d do, I’d have that part of myself under control. And she’d never have to see me as anything other than her sweet, protective Ren.
My phone vibrated just as I rolled onto my side, ready to rest so I wasn’t wired from lack of sleep tomorrow.
It would already be hard enough; I didn’t need to be fighting exhaustion.
Della: I never want to come back. Kiss me. Hug me. Let him see that this is real, and you can take me wherever you want, for however long you want, any way you want. And yes, that’s a thinly veiled sexual innuendo. The kind that I’ve been dying to say to you for years. To be free to finally do it…I have to keep pinching myself to believe it’s real. Until tomorrow, Ren. Xxx
My body hardened at the thought of kissing her again, followed immediately by the nauseous feeling of doing something wrong.
Here she was messaging me things we’d danced around for years, all while sleeping in the same house as the boy she’d lost her virginity to. Strange how actions had driven us to this place, and they were about to drive us to somewhere new entirely.
Sighing heavily, I adjusted myself before typing two words.
Two terrifying, exhilarating, life-changing, heart-winging words.
Me: Until tomorrow.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
REN
* * * * * *
2018
MY BACK ACHED from carrying two sets of camping gear.
One clinging to my shoulders, the other dangling from my hands.
Two over stuffed backpacks. Two sleeping bags. Two wardrobes for two people about to say goodbye to buildings and bills and people.
Unlike when I was a kid—fearing I didn’t belong and would be noticed—I boldly wore my earth tone t-shirt and cargos. Wanting them to see that I didn’t bow to fashion or conformity, that I only wore clothes for one purpose: practicality.
My pockets were full of matches, lighters, knives, and first-aid kits.
I had enough snares and traps to ensure we didn’t need a supermarket for weeks and enough packets of rice, pasta, and other easy-to-cook things that meant we could vanish into the woods and never been seen again.
Not by this city or its inhabitants, at least.
Good riddance.
Coming to a stop outside the house I knew well, the same street where I’d stood and watched Della with despicable shame, I couldn’t take another step.
My boots—complete with yet another knife tucked by my ankle and tramping socks protecting toes from blisters—froze to the pavement. I physically couldn’t open the white picket fence or stride up the pretty garden path.
The same path where David had hugged and kissed my Della. The same path where I’d carried Della from accidentally punching her the night I tore her from David’s bed.
Fuck.
The front door swung wide as Della bounded from the house, her blonde hair secured in a ponytail, her lithe body encased in sturdy jeans, dusky pink t-shirt, and matching hiking boots.
No dresses or stupid sandals.
An outfit to run.
A dress code of living in the forest.
We’re really doing this.
My stomach clenched for the fortieth time since I’d handed back the key to the apartment, done one final sweep of the place, tossed out the last of our accumulated junk, and made my way here.
Early afternoon and our lives were about to swerve into terrifying territory—not because we were homeless again, but because I was petrified of what would happen the moment our tent was erected and the stars announced our bedtime.
Would we sleep together tonight?
Was I ready?
Would I ever be?
She didn’t stop until she flew to the gate and unlatched it, granting me invitation to step onto another man’s property. “You came.”
“Of course, I came.” I scowled, unable to stop my stress from tainting my voice. “This is hard enough without you doubting me and acting surprised every second.”
She smiled, dipping her head. “You’ve been gone for six months, Ren. You’ll have to get used to me poking you at random times just to make sure you’re real. I missed you.” Stepping toward me, she ducked around the backpack I held in front of me, slotting her body into mine. “I missed you so much—you have no idea.”
My fingers tightened on the rucksack straps, desperate to drop it, but propriety still commanded I keep it as a barrier between us, even as my heart yearned to gather her close.
My temper softened at the pain on her face. “I have some idea, Della.” Ducking to kiss her swiftly on her cheek like I’d done for years—an innocent peck that was permitted—I murmured, “I missed you, too. Enough to make me face things I never wanted to face.”
She stared into my eyes, studying me. “In that case, I’m glad you left.”
“What?”
“I’m glad because if you didn’t, maybe you’d never have…”
“Been brave enough to admit it?”
She nodded.
My fingers clenched on the straps, begging to release so I could cup her cheek.
But then, I looked up.
And there he was.
David.
And all my tenderness vanished beneath seething temper.
Arms crossed, lips thin, eyes narrowed as he glared at me from the front door. He judged me in ways I’d already judged myself.
Paedophile.
Sick fuck.
Blasphemer.
It didn’t help that I agreed with him.
The urge to hit him all over again thrummed in my fists. Della noticed my quaking, turning to look over her shoulder. But as she twisted against me, I remembered what I’d promised her last night.
A hug.
A declaration.
A vow to this new direction
.
She wanted me to accept this. Us. Well, I wanted to make him pay.
My fingers released the straps and, as the clunking sound of a survival-filled bag tumbled to the pavement, I reached for her in ways I’d never reached before.
My arms latched around her, holding her deep against me, forcing her to inhale me, feel me, accept me as my boots nudged against hers, and I hugged her so damn hard.
She made a noise of surprise as I deliberately slipped one hand to the back of her head and one to the bottom of her spine. Once I had such a dominating grip on her, I splayed my fingers through her hair, fisted the ponytail dancing down her back, and spread my touch along the top of her ass. In one seamless move, I pulled her hair down to tip her head up and pressed her hips shamelessly into mine.
She gasped as I held her prone and helpless, but I didn’t kiss her.
I captured her in ways I ought to go to hell for.
And I looked up toward the man watching my every move. The man who’d had what I never could. And I let go of everything decent as I waited for him to understand he’d never have her again.
Not a single touch.
Not another anything.
This wasn’t about me.
This was about some caveman insanity driving me to stake ownership in absolutely terrible ways.
My fingers tightened in her hair, fighting off the whispers that this was wrong, ignoring the man I truly was—the man who would never lay a hand on Della this way.
But then David’s eyes flared with surprise and darkened with rage, and nasty triumph spread devil-hot blood through my veins.
I couldn’t stop myself.
After all, I was only doing what Della had asked me to do. To lay claim on her. To prove, once and for all, that I was hers. What a shame that I lost sight of that and used a moment that ought to be pure as a weapon to destroy my competition.
And once David was fully aware how Della melted in my arms, submitted to my harsh hold, and feathered her breath with lust, I ignored him and looked down into the blue, blue gaze of my Little Ribbon.
She trembled hard, her chest panting, her gaze wild.
Images of her, young and innocent, tried to delete the pinpricked red cheeks and sinful invitation.
I shook my head, squeezing my eyes from the messy double imagery. I focused only on one Della. The one I held. The one who begged me to finish what I started.
And then, I kissed her.
Right there.
In public.
Where anyone could see.
And something brittle shattered between us.
Something that wasn’t wholesome but filthy and twisted and held shades of black and grey and red, red desire all wrapped up in punishment.
I was punishing her for making me need her this way.
And she was punishing me for making her wait so damn long.
The kiss started with a crush of lips and bruise of mouths, but it quickly turned from explosive to desperate.
My fist yanked down on her hair, forcing her mouth open as I struggled to hide that violent side of me.
She groaned long and low as I kissed her deep and dark, full of disgust for what I’d done and drowning with desire for what I needed.
My body tightened, tingled, tangled, and my mind went from a single thought to crazed with memories of threading my fingers through Della’s hair in simpler times. Of brushing back curls as she slept as a four-year-old. Of wiping away sweat as she battled chicken pox as a seven-year-old.
And fuck, I was appalled with myself.
I pushed her away.
I wiped my mouth.
I picked up her backpack, forgotten on the street, and shoved it into her arms.
She stumbled, blinking back passion, dazed with being taken, and licked her lips as worry and fascination and that strange light I didn’t like assessed me as if she didn’t know me but very much wanted to.
“What was that?” she breathed, stepping toward me, forcing me to trip back.
“What was what?”
“That kiss.”
“The kiss you asked for.” I cleared my throat, choking on yet more lies. “The promise I made to show you that I won’t go back on my word.”
David strode down the path toward us; Della rushed in a whisper. “That was more than that, and you know it.” She cocked her head; her ponytail messed from where my fingers had ruined it. “That wasn’t you. That was—”
David arrived in hearing distance with blond hair and distrusting blue eyes, and she cut herself off, smiling sweetly at him. “Hi.”
I wanted her to finish. I wanted to tell her that it was me. Just a me she’d never seen before.
But David looked me up and down, his arms crossing harder over his preppy-boy chest. Ignoring Della, he grunted, “Hello.”
My spine straightened, muscles tightened. “Hello.”
We glowered as if we were about to go to war to win the hand of some maiden we both could never hope to deserve.
Della inched between us, closer to me than to him but still playing mediator. “David, I want to re-introduce you to someone. Now, before you say anything, you already know my story, and at the time, you said you understood. I’m asking you to remember your understanding and not—”
“It’s okay, Della.” David let his arms uncross and dangle by his sides. “I get it.” His jaw clenched in a way that said he didn’t get it, but to his credit, he held out his hand for me to shake.
I studied him, not quite ready to let bygones be bygones. Della inconspicuously kicked my boot, and I flicked her a glance.
This meant something to her.
And my entire life was based on the undying need to give her whatever she wanted.
No matter how hard.
I shook his hand firmly, friendly, and my anger swirled into shame. “I know what you must think of me.” David opened his mouth to say something, but I snapped, “And believe me, you have every right.”
We broke apart as he said, slightly surprised, “Look, I only need to know two things, and then I can let what happened between us go. I can overlook how sad Della was the night she came to me for…comfort, and I can accept that she’ll be safe…out there.” His eyes trailed to the city’s horizon where the barest glimpse of trees beckoned.
“All right.” I nodded. “But first, I want to say something.” The words tasted sour, but I forced myself to continue. “Thank you for being the one Della ran to that night. I caused her pain and, out of anyone she could’ve chosen, I’m glad you were the one to help soothe it.”
I glanced at Della, my heart kicking at her wide shock and besotted disbelief. “I never told Della, but I blamed myself. Every damn day. And I left because I was selfish. I only thought of my pain, not the girl I’d promised to keep safe.” I tore my gaze from Della’s, glaring at David once again. “You kept her safe when I didn’t. And for that…I’ll always be grateful.”
I owed him that.
A thank you and an apology.
But I also owed him a warning.
My ability to accept that I was the reason Della ran into his arms only stretched so far. I could be magnanimous because we were leaving. We would never see him again, and that was the only reason I could lower myself to second best before him, to curb my anger and play meek.
But if we ever crossed paths again, if he ever tried to take what was mine…it wouldn’t end so civilised.
David shared a look with Della before clearing his throat. “Eh, thanks.”
I nodded sharply, the heaviness from my backpack reminding me that streets weren’t my home, and it was time to leave.
Holding up his hand, not as judgmental as before, he said, “Okay, the two things I need to know are—”
“David, we talked about this last night.” Della butted in. “And I told you, time and time again, nothing inappropriate happened. You know that. That’s the whole reason I came to you in the first place. He refused to do anything inappropriate. Please…don’t
bring it up again.”
“I know what you said, and I trust you. But I want to hear what he has to say.” Pinning me with a glare, he added, “So, Ren. First thing I need to know is did you ever touch her improperly? Ever. In all the years you grew up together. Not an ‘oops’ as you were helping her from the pool or a ‘whoops’ when you were tucking her into bed?”
I stood taller, disgusted. “What sort of sick bastard do you think I am?”
“The one who’s taking a child he raised and hiding her in the jungle to do whatever he damn well wants.”
My chest puffed up, my hands clenching. “First, it isn’t a jungle. Second, she’s no longer a child. Third, I never once looked, touched, or thought of Della in any way other than brotherly affection until she—”
I cut myself off.
A kiss at thirteen was still a terrible thing to admit. It didn’t matter that the moment it all changed, it wasn’t my fault but hers. She’d been the one to ruin us, destroy me, and corrupt every day from there on.
And who knew?
If she’d never kissed me at the exact same second when I was having the most incredible dream of my life, I might never have had to fight changing thoughts and switching needs.
But she had, and I couldn’t confess her age or mine when it’d happened.
Della put her hand on my arm, squeezing gently. “Ren, it’s okay.” Turning to David, she sniffed. “You know enough. You don’t need to know anymore. And as for your second thing, I can guess what you’re about to ask.”
“You can?” He raised a fair-coloured eyebrow.
“Of course, she can guess,” I interrupted. “Everyone can guess what you really want to know. I want to know, too. But there isn’t an answer. Not yet, anyway.”
Della gave me a sad look, her fingers feathering on my arm again, this time in worry rather than consolation. “Does it scare you?” she murmured.
I completely forgot about David as I drank her in, saw her panic, tasted her concern. Unable to stop myself, I cupped her cheek softly. “I’m fucking terrified. But…we don’t have a choice now. We’ve gone too far to go back.”
She pressed her face into my hold, her gaze glassing liquid before she nodded. “I know.”