REN

* * * * * *

2016

 

SCHOOL FINISHED FOR the holidays, and Della, ever the resourceful, refused to relax like she deserved after studying so hard. Instead, she wanted to contribute to our bills by getting a job.

I was too busy with the milking to argue.

After scoring the job with Nick March, I’d not only been made the head milk harvester but also the overseer for the rest of the staff on his dairy farm.

From figuring out how much protein and fibre to feed versus income per milk quart, to paddock rotation and herd streamlining, my time was booked from the moment I arrived to the second I left.

I loved being in charge and making a difference. I enjoyed working with the seven hundred head of cattle and ensuring happy stock, which in turn, made for ease of milking twice a day.

What I didn’t enjoy were the long hours I had to put in and the time apart from Della.

I often fell asleep earlier due to the brutal wake-ups, and she’d stay up later texting who knew what and watching romantic programs that probably filled her head with ideas of sex and marriage and things I couldn’t protect her from.

I’d wanted her to recharge during the school holidays, but in a way, I was glad she job hunted. It meant she had things to fill her days with, and no idle hands to date boys she shouldn’t be dating.

And because she was intelligent and extremely capable, she landed a job within a few days, helping a local florist make bouquets and other gifts, spending her hours playing with flowers, plaiting ribbon, and turning nature into stunning works of art.

Whenever I’d come home, she’d have some sort of daisy, tulip, or rose waiting for me, tied with a snippet of ribbon on the kitchen table.

I never told her how much I adored the fact that she thought of me while at work. That she still cared enough that I was the one she kissed on the cheek and helped cook dinner with. That I still held enough importance in her life to spend time with, even if it was doing something boring like watching a movie with microwave popcorn and overly sweet cola.

Those nights were my favourite.

I could even pretend we were alone in our tent surrounded by trees instead of buildings if we pulled our curtains tight and huddled together on the couch.

Normally, I was so exhausted, I ended up dozing beside her watching some comedy or drama while she twirled and tangled ribbon, making rosettes and ribbon-flowers for basket decorations at the florist.

It reminded me of the Christmas present Patricia Wilson had given her that first year. Della had loved the colourful ribbon collection. She’d set it safely in our bedroom and never touched them because she didn’t want the colours to get marked with grease and grime like her blue one had.

After a while, the ribbons were just there, seen but unseen in our bedroom until I carved her that wooden horse which then slept on the ribbons for the rest of its existence.

I supposed both gifts the Wilsons had either kept or thrown out when we left. Della hadn’t taken them when she ran away, and I’d had nothing to pack them into.

It helped recalling memories when Della was still young and easily impressed. These days, she smirked rather than smiled, and sometimes I wished I could trade her with the cute little girl I’d raised instead of live another day with a beautiful brutal teen.

Some days, we were perfectly in tune—our communication effortless and easy. Others, we spoke the same language, but the message was all scrambled. I’d get on edge, and she’d get snappy, and neither of us could stop the secrets slowly driving us apart.

* * * * *

Halloween.

Just like we’d never celebrated Christmas until the Wilsons, we hadn’t celebrated Halloween.

In the town where the Wilsons lived, it wasn’t a huge thing, and Della wasn’t interested in dressing up and door knocking on strangers. Mostly because I practically hyperventilated at the thought of her putting herself in such danger.

Humans were never to be trusted even on nights when it was acceptable to dress up like ghouls and witches and ask for candy.

This year, she wasn’t a little kid with a plastic pumpkin bucket ready for sugar. This year, she was sixteen and had used her own income earned from the florist to hire a Victorian outfit with a dress that ballooned with skirts and lace, taking up the entire floor in our lounge.

The pearl-beaded corset was tight and pushed up her breasts, barely covering her nipples and revealing acres of white, perfect flesh. She’d coiled her blonde hair until the messy curls turned into corkscrews, piled on top of her head and tumbling down around her face.

Her navy satin gloves reflected the light from above as she waved an oriental-painted fan, and the baby blue material of her gown coupled with the cream bodice and Victorian lace made her eyes pop in a way that looked almost ethereal.

I might love Della unconditionally with no impropriety of lust or denial.

But that night, I struggled to see her as out of bounds. It didn’t matter my body prickled or my heart pounded. I battled to remind myself that the stunning creature in finery wasn’t some woman I desperately wanted to kiss, but a girl I would forever protect.

Even if it meant protecting her from myself.

“What do you think?” She spun in place, knocking over an empty water glass from the coffee table onto the threadbare carpet. It didn’t break, but my stiff rules threatened to.

She was far too lovely, and everything inside begged to mess her up so other men didn’t see how incredible she was.

I swallowed to lubricate my throat. “It’s nice.”

“Nice?” She blew away a curl that’d gotten caught on a fake eyelash—thick black frames around the most incredible eyes. “Just nice?” Her shoulders slouched a little. “I was hoping for more than nice. It was my entire week’s salary. I should’ve rented a cheap stripper outfit for ten bucks.”

My belly turned to a rock at the mention of a stripper.

No way in hell would that ever happen.

She looked at the ceiling with a huff. “Now I just feel like an idiot for spending so much when I should’ve given it to you to pay the elec—”

“Stop it.” I stood from where I was sprawled on the couch. My hands tingled as I dared place them on her bare, glitter-dusted shoulders. “It’s a hundred times better than nice.” I squeezed her gently, ignoring the kick in my gut. “Believe me. You’ll kill every boy there with a single stare.”

Her charcoal-shadowed eyes studied mine, her lips parted as if searching to see if she’d killed me just like I’d promised.

And she had. She definitely had.

But I refused to let her see it.

It was better that way…for both of us.

Squeezing her again, I dropped my hands with a forced chuckle. “You’re far too beautiful to go out.”

She sighed as if aggravated at something I’d done but then covered it up with a giggle. “Well, I am going out. You can’t ground me. Not tonight.”

“In that case, I’m going to hog the couch and watch something gory. I’m looking forward to the peace and quiet.” I stretched, reaching for the ceiling and working out the kinks in my spine. My grey t-shirt rode up my belly, drawing her gaze to my naked skin just above my belt.

She licked her lips, and my heart switched from nervous thrumming to out of control pounding.

The entire lounge filled with wildfire. The air crackled with lightning bolts just waiting to strike. My body hardened in ways it never should around Della. But I couldn’t stop it. Every inch of me turned into a tuning fork, humming for something, begging for anything.

She sucked in a shallow breath as her eyes once again found mine. Only this time, they were hooded and darker, older and dangerous.

The invitation.

The truth.

Shit.

It was pure fucking hunger and it tore out my insides with how deeply she was starving.

For me? For sex? For anyone willing to offer pleasure?

I stepped back, combating the heavy pull to go to her, to touch her, to do things I never dared—

Knock, knock, knock.

The moment shattered as someone’s fist announced guests waited outside our front door.

Della wobbled, blinking as if she’d transported far away and slammed back into reality.

I exhaled hard, dragging a hand over my face and turning my back on her.

What the fuck was that?

What had happened?

And whose fault was it? Mine or hers?

The swish of Della’s skirts was the only noise as she bypassed the couch and headed to open the front door.

“Hi,” she said, her voice breathy and papery, matching the shivery sensation left in my spine.

I needed to sit down. I needed to figure out what the hell happened and how to prevent it from happening again.

Turning around slowly, I ordered my body to behave as I glanced at the arrivals.

“Hi, yourself,” a girl piped up dressed in another Victorian gown—hers in reds and blacks. Compared to Della, she was positively garish while Della was a powder blue angel tempting me straight to fucking hell.

The girl’s gaze slipped from Della to me standing furious and dazed in the middle of the living room. She did a double take, her entire body slipping into sensual solicitation. “And hi to you too, handsome.” She blew me a kiss, making Della freeze with a frosty glare. “Della didn’t say how hot her older brother was.”

I supposed I should be flattered, but all I felt was empty. She was so juvenile. So transparent and shallow and young.

Shit, she was Della’s age, yet I’d never thought of Della sexually—

You did tonight.

You wondered…

My heart skipped a beat, remembering what happened between us before the knock. I was grateful for the interruption. Thankful that I’d been reminded of who Della belonged with and what my role in her life ought to be.

“Hello.” I nodded politely, clearing my throat, eradicating any sin I might have committed.

Jamming both hands into my pockets, it was my turn to glower with hatred as another person entered my home.

Tom.

The boy from the diner.

Della instantly stiffened, flicking me a look before allowing herself to be gathered in a hug from the boy I struggled not to hate. She refused to meet my eyes as he kissed her cheek and wolf whistled under his breath. “Holy crap, you’re gorgeous.”

My hands turned into fists in my pockets.

She blushed. “Thanks.”

“Are you ready?” Tom glanced at me.

My jaw clenched.

It never occurred to me that they might be an item.

That she might be dating already, right beneath my nose.

Della nodded. “Yep. Oh, almost forgot.” Darting to the coffee table, she scooped up a little pearl bag and looped it over her wrist. Speaking to me, she said, “I have my phone and some cash. I can get an Uber or something home. You won’t be able to pick me up on the motorbike in this dress.”

I didn’t trust myself to talk.

I wanted to ensure she knew the curfew and my many, many rules, but my voice refused to work. It was still a gravelly mess with things I never wanted Della to know. Things I didn’t want to know.

“Ren?” she murmured, coming closer to me. “Everything okay?”

I nodded stiffly, stumbling back. I honestly didn’t know what I’d do if she touched me. “Go. Have fun.”

Even though I wanted to lock her in her room and ban Tom from ever seeing her again, I almost pushed her out the door so I could breathe again.

“Okay…” Her eyes danced over my face, a sliver of hurt hiding in them before she smiled, and it vanished. “My offer still stands. You were invited, you know. I don’t know if you were listening a few nights ago when I told you about the party, but everyone is welcome.”

Fuck, everyone?

“You mean…this isn’t just school kids going?”

Tom grinned, self-important and making my life a lot more difficult by not punching him. “Nah, man. It’s a frat party. Local uni is putting it on. There’ll be booze and stuff, but I won’t let Della have any. I promise.”

My ears rang.

My temper slipped into an ice-cold single-mindedness.

“You’re not going.” I narrowed my eyes at Della. “No way.”

I’d never been to a party as a guest, but I’d been to enough of the dregs when collecting Cassie on those nights she’d snuck out and called me for a ride home. Della had accompanied me enough to understand why this was non-negotiable.

The amount of used condoms and spewing kids. The reek of sex and trouble.

No. Fucking. Way.

I crossed my arms as Della looked back once at her friends then swooped toward me. Her perfume of something light and floral invaded my nose, her body heat made me sick with want, and her breath against my neck as she hissed into my ear made my knees almost buckle.

I hadn’t expected her closeness or her fight, and my silence gave her the perfect battlefield to destroy me.

“Don’t mess this up for me, Ren. I’m not asking this time. I’m going to this party, and you have my word I will behave. I won’t drink, and I won’t fool around, but this is my life. These are my friends, and I want to hang out with them.”

Everything she said was for my ears only.

The two strangers lingered by the door, giving us a confused glance.

Della pulled away but not before I lashed out and grabbed her wrist.

She gasped, her eyes dropping to where I held her, her soft inhale ripping through my defences and making my fingers squeeze against my command.

I clutched her hard, unable to let go even though everything inside screamed to back the hell off. “Don’t threaten me, Della.”

Her eyes widened then hooded to that sultry stare I had no power against. “I’m not threatening you. I’m telling you what’s going to happen. Come if you want. I want you to. If only to get out of the apartment and live a little.”

“You know I don’t like crowds.”

“Well, stay then.”

“You know I can’t. Not now.”

“Because you don’t trust me.” Her tongue licked her bottom lip as once again my fingers squeezed her wrist in reprimand. The feel of her tiny bones. The rush of blood in her veins. The electricity infecting both of us that wasn’t there before.

Fierce.

Forbidden.

Off-limits.

She shivered, leaning closer.

It took everything I had, but I released her and stepped back, rubbing my fingertips from the residual burn from touching her. “Because I don’t trust them.”

Or myself.

“Fine.” She stood tall and any hint of being affected by our whispered conversation disappeared. “Come then. I’ll see you there. It’s the house four blocks away toward the campus. Follow the music and pumpkins.”

Without another word, she grabbed Tom’s hand, smiled at the girl, then dragged them out the door, closing it with a slam.