REN

* * * * * *

2016

 

 

A FEW WEEKS later, Della asked me the dreaded question.

The one I’d been expecting ever since I’d seen her happiness hanging with the group of kids from school on our birthday.

“Ren?”

I looked up from where I was trying to yank a splinter from my thumb. The bastard had gone in deep, and I’d left it for too long, ensuring a red infection and minor swelling. It was a fence’s fault, catching me as I’d corralled the cows into the yard for milking. “Yeah?” I asked, distracted with a needle and tweezers.

Her bare feet appeared beneath my vision where I sat hunched at the dinged-up kitchen table. “It can wait. Do you need help?”

I smiled at her tangled hair from a long day and the pyjamas with a repeating decal of Cupid’s arrows and hearts all over her arms and legs. Having her stand there ready for bed and eyes hooded with tiredness, I could almost forget she was slipping further from my reach.

Strange how you could miss someone when they were apart of everything you did.

Before I could reply, she stole the needle, pulled up the only other chair, and yanked my hand toward her.

“Careful,” I warned as she prodded me with the sharp tip.

“I have to break a few layers of skin. You left it too long. It’s grown over.”

I groaned. “Great.”

“Hold still.” She bent over me, her hair obscuring her face and tickling the tops of my jean-covered thighs. I hadn’t had a shower from work, and the dust and filth from working cows all day dirtied her cleanliness.

Not that she cared as she bent closer and diligently dug into my thumb.

I flinched occasionally, but somehow, she managed not to hurt me even though a bead of blood kept welling, causing her to wipe it away with her own finger, continuing her splinter hunt.

She needed a napkin or something to prevent my blood from staining her fingers, but I daren’t stop her. I might not let her resume stabbing me otherwise.

The scent of vanilla rose from her hair, hinting she’d bought a different shampoo than her usual. She still smelled of the girl I’d known for sixteen years, but there was a new smell, too.

Something that made my heart chug harder the longer she huddled close.

She was so real, so fragile, so beautiful.

My fingers begged to be allowed to run through her hair, to bring her close, to hold her because I missed her so goddamn much.

As she tended to my wound, a yearning gathered that had nothing to do with her and everything to do with me.

I missed being touched.

I missed being kissed.

I missed affection that didn’t come with a price of losing my soul.

By the time she finally dislodged the splinter, I struggled to breathe, and my thoughts were full of killing rabbits and tractor mechanics—anything to keep my body in check and appropriate boundaries in place.

I told myself it was because I hadn’t been close to anyone in so long, all the while truth danced behind my lies.

I was waking up; seeing things I didn’t want to see. Feeling things I definitely didn’t want to feel.

She blew curls from her eyes as she planted the tweezers on the table with an accomplished flourish. “There you are. It’s out.” Scooting up, she darted down the small corridor to the bathroom and came back with some antiseptic cream from the chipped-glass medicine cabinet.

She stole my hand again, and with soft, capable fingers, spread some of the cream over the puncture she’d caused, then wrapped my thumb in a Band Aid.

She patted my knuckles like a good nurse and smiled. “Well, you’ll survive. That’s the good news. The bad news is you might lose the thumb.”

“Ha-ha.” I chuckled. “Hope I don’t. Can’t afford to lose another finger.”

Her gaze fell to my missing pinkie, and some of her playfulness faded.

Standing quickly, I did my best not to scatter pieces of silage and grain from feeding the cows onto the floor.

I’d only recently saved up enough to buy a cheap motorbike that ensured I got to work for four a.m. without having to rely on shitty public transport. I didn’t have a license to ride it—seeing as I had no proof of who I was—and even having the convenience of wheels meant I still had to get up well before dawn. “It’s late. You should go to bed, and I need a shower.”

She looked away but not before her eyes skittered down my body, lingered on my crotch, then dropped to the floor. Inhaling quick, tension rippled over her then was gone. She nodded quickly. “Yes. Bed. Shower. Good plan.”

Twisting on the spot, her hair spun out like a gold carousel as she headed toward her bedroom. A second later, she spun back, biting her bottom lip, her cheeks pinker than before. “Eh, Ren?”

Something in her tone froze me to the floor. “What?”

She studied me with painful blue eyes, her decision not entirely formed. “Umm…”

“Umm what?” I struggled to convert air into oxygen. The way she stared hinted she knew whatever she’d ask would wedge yet another problem between us. “Tell me.”

“What I meant to ask you before…. Do you think…I…” She dragged a hand through her long hair, revealing her ribbon was tied around her wrist today. “Would you mind if I—”

“Spit it out, Della.” My heart rushed to know, but at the same time, warned I wouldn’t like what she was about to say.

She exhaled in a rush. “Can I go on a date with Tom?”

I stopped breathing. “What?”

“Tom…um, you met him? At the diner? The tall guy with brown hair like yours and um…” Her gaze landed on mine before bouncing away just as fast. Deep in their blue depths other things lurked. Things she didn’t want me to see.

I stepped toward her, but she tripped backward. “So…eh, can I?”

Air was still hard to come by. Everything inside bellowed to deny her request. I wanted to lock her in the apartment and never let her out. She was still too young for this. Too delicate and special and perfect to let unworthy boys touch her.

I didn’t want anyone touching her.

Period.

But it wasn’t my place to prevent her from growing up.

I should say yes.

I meant to say yes even though it slayed me.

But somehow, what I meant to say transformed on my tongue into an unarguable, “No.”

Her lips thinned, and the nervousness at asking me quickly switched to resentment. “Why not?”

Just because I had to dig the knife a little deeper into my heart, I repeated her question. “Why won’t I let you go on a date with him?”

She nodded.

“Because.”

“Because?” She planted hands on her hips. “That’s not a reason.”

“I don’t like him.” I’d backed myself into this corner and had no way out. Why the hell didn’t I say yes? I’d meant to, for God’s sake. Now we slipped into yet another fight, and I was tired of fighting. Tired of miscommunication and walking on eggshells.

I wanted her close and caring like she’d just done with my splinter. I wanted to know where she was at all times, so I knew she was safe.

“You don’t even know him.” She growled.

“I don’t have to know him to know what he wants.”

“Oh, really?” She flicked her head to the side, her nose wrinkled with familiar temper. “Just like I know what Cassie wanted with you all those long summer nights?”

I stabbed my finger in the air. “That’s none of your goddamn business.”

“Just like what Tom and I might do is none of yours.”

“Oh, see that’s where you’re wrong, Della.” I moved toward her until our chests almost touched. “Everything you do is my business. You’re mine to keep safe, and I have no doubt he doesn’t have any intention of doing that.”

“He won’t hurt me.” She backed up. “He’s nice.”

“Nice doesn’t exist when hormones are out of control.”

“Hormones?” She laughed condescendingly. “What do you think I am, Ren, some animal who just wants to get laid?”

I flinched.

Words landed on my tongue, but I discarded them.

She wasn’t an animal, but she was getting close to wanting sex. I could see it in her eyes, taste it in her voice. She wouldn’t be content with just me much longer and that knowledge kept me up at night.

Before I could choose an appropriate response, she added, “Just because you were fucking at my age doesn’t mean—”

“Language.”

“Oh, please. You use worse all the time.”

“Not intentionally, I don’t.”

“What’s the difference?” She curled her lip. “You swear but don’t let me swear. You slept with Cassie, yet you won’t let me—”

My temper snapped. “You’re not permitted to sleep with anyone. Ever. Do you hear me?”

“You can’t stop me, Ren.” She crossed her arms, trembling just as much as me.

We both trembled when fighting. I didn’t know how it happened or how to stop it, but with every fight, my limbs turned shaky with frustration and helplessness because I knew I could never win.

She would do whatever she wanted.

I had no power, even if I liked to think I did.

The only way to stop her from doing things I didn’t approve of was to cart her back into the forest and keep her tied to a tree. And as much as that idea appealed to me, she had school to finish, a life to grow into, and I had a duty to ensure I made that as easy as I could for her.

No matter how much it destroys me.

Lowering my voice but unable to lower my temper, I seethed, “I was nineteen when I lost my virginity. You have another three years to go.”

She sucked in a breath as if shocked I’d shared something so personal.

Walking past her, I grunted, “You can go out with him in a group. You must be home when you say you will, and if you leave me hanging here like you did a few weeks ago, I’ll spank you so hard you won’t be able to sit down for a month and then I’ll ground you for the rest of your life.”

Her silence shot bullets into my back as I stepped into the bathroom and slammed the door.

As the stained, chipped mirror reflected my dirty face, I whispered, “Give me a few more years, Della Ribbon. Just a few more before you leave me.”