Somehow, her wounded voice snapped me from my stupor, and I charged forward. Reaching over, I unbolted the lock and stepped as far away from her as possible.
I might not have anything to say in my defence, but I had plenty to say on behalf of Della’s. I should never have returned that kiss. I should never have given in. Dream excuse or not, I should’ve known better. I should never have let her believe such boundaries could be crossed. I should never have encouraged hugs and kisses and affection.
This was my fault, not hers.
And if anyone was going to be punished, it was me.
John had to know the truth, and he had to know it now before the police came to take me away. Before they found out I was the runaway who stole a baby named Della Mclary. Before they found out I was a criminal who’d kissed that stolen child. Before they found out my past as a slave and knitted my sad sorry tale together and the newspapers wrote fiction, lamenting that anyone who’d been sold and forced into labour before he was ten years old was bound to have issues. That it was only natural for his story to end with him in jail for molesting the very same kid he stole.
I was understandable.
I was a statistic.
Della was not.
She was so many things.
So many wonderful things.
But she was no longer mine.
We were no longer Ren and Della.
No longer fake brother and sister.
No longer the Wilds.
Backing away from her, I grunted around my fury and grief, “Go back to bed, Della. I need to fix this.”
I left her in the stables, crying and beautiful and perfectly screwed up from my lack of skills as a parent. I’d been the one to break her. I was the one to muddle her mind and make her think kissing me was appropriate.
And as I knocked on the Wilson’s door and prepared to face the symphony that I’d conducted, I didn’t think she’d ever disobey me.
I believed I would fight for her right to stay with the Wilsons.
I thought I would shoulder all the blame, be taken away in hand cuffs, and leave Della in the capable control of a family I’d grown to love as my own.
But just like I’d trusted Della never to overstep our friendship, I ought to have known what would happen.
I ought to have seen that as I entered the Wilson’s house and prepared to do battle, Della Mclary would pack my old backpack, dress in warm clothes, and sneak unseen through the starlight, leaving me, leaving us, leaving everything behind until the only thing that was left was her twisted kiss on my lips.
By the time I realised what she’d do, it was too late.
She was gone.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
REN
* * * * * *
2013
DELLA.
Every single part of my life, she was there.
Every single memory, she was in.
Every single achievement and ability, she was responsible for.
And now, she was the reason my heart was broken as I stood in an empty bedroom without her.
She’d gone.
She’d left.
Where, I didn’t know.
For how long, I couldn’t be sure.
Would she come back?
Should I stay or hunt for her?
What was the right thing to do?
My hands balled as a crippling wash of loneliness, despair, and confusion threatened to drown me.
How could she do this?
How could she rip apart our world and then run the moment I’d put it back together again?
How could she turn her back on me when I’d stood before the Wilsons and done my best to repair everything?
For the past few years, Della had spent her evenings teaching me spelling and multiplication and science. She’d traded the knowledge I’d bought her and gave me hours upon hours of her time.
She was selfless.
She didn’t care about hanging out with girls her own age. She ignored the cell phone John and Patricia insisted she had and preferred to check my answers on tests she’d already aced, rather than respond to teenage texts.
Every night, I’d been gruff with her. I’d been impatient to learn faster. I’d been frustrated at her mercy and taken her tutorage, not with utmost gratefulness, but with tense irritation that my inadequacy stole more of her childhood.
Even though I sat stiff and surly through most of the lessons, it didn’t stop my eyes from settling on her bent head or my fingers from itching to sweep away her hair so I could see her face.
I was in utter awe of her—in absolute wonder that my best friend was so smart, so capable, so perfect.
And that was the only reason I’d been able to hide most of my frustration and smile when she graded my division skills and laugh when she critiqued my sentence structures.
I’d never been more thankful for that gift as I’d stood before John, Patricia, and Cassie Wilson. I’d held my head high, able to use words I knew how to spell and give explanations I knew how to deliver, ripping apart their trust.
They’d welcomed us into their home under one condition. One measly condition, and I’d shattered it.
My lips still seared from hers. My dream still tainted my reality. Thanks to Della, I’d just had my world snatched away, all the while, she was the reason I was no longer an illiterate farmhand.
Pushing her out of my mind, I’d focused on ensuring this mess didn’t ruin her future.
I’d make sure she had a better future.
One with firmer boundaries.
One that I didn’t screw up.
John stood with his arms crossed, his maroon plaid pyjamas severe as a prison sentence. His wife stood with furious dots on her cheeks, and Cassie stared at me as if I was a stranger, hugging herself with white-knuckled fists.
No one spoke, but the air was heavy with condemnation. The phone rested in Patricia’s hand either used to call the police or still waiting. Either way, I’d run out of time, so I said the only thing that mattered.
“She isn’t my sister.”
Cassie’s mouth fell open, followed by her mother’s.
John cleared his throat as if he hadn’t been expecting such a confession. “Pardon me?”
I stood straighter, shoving aside the lies we’d told. “I did run away from a farm that bought children for labour. I did raise Della since she was a baby. Those weren’t lies. And I do love her, with all my heart, but our last name isn’t Wild and we’re not related.”
John scowled. “I…don’t understand.”
“She was the daughter of the people who bought me. Their name was Mclary. I don’t know where their farm is. I don’t know how much they paid for me or what my surname was before I was just Ren. Della was theirs. She was born the night after my finger was cut off for stealing food, and somehow, when I finally got the guts to run away, she was in the backpack I’d prepared with meagre supplies. I didn’t mean to steal her. In fact, I tried to leave her with a family because I knew I would be no good as a parental figure. But…I went back for her. I took her with me, and I’ve kept it a secret ever since.”
I stepped back, withdrawing myself from their world. “I know what you must think of me, but I never meant for this to happen. I don’t know why she kissed me, and I definitely didn’t condone it. She’ll be disciplined, and I’ll ensure she has better rules because I think it’s time I left. She needs parents, like you, not a kid who doesn’t know what he’s doing. I’m not telling you this to excuse what happened. I’m as disgusted as you are. But I am telling you the truth, so you know how real I am when I say I’m sorry. You have enough information to ruin my life. I’m sure I’m wanted by the police. Della’s been missing for twelve years…if her parents even care she’s gone. Who knows? They might’ve been arrested for buying kids for all I know. But what I do know is, I love Della. I’ve loved her since I stole her. But that’s all it is. I’ve never touched her. I’ve never kissed her inappropriately. I’ve never though
t of her in any way apart from family. She might not be my sister, but I love her as one. And under no circumstances will I allow her to forget that, ever again.”
Silence fell, heavier but friendlier than before.
Cassie was the first one to speak. “The brand on your hip. The one you said they put there. It has MC before the number…for Mclary, right?”
I gritted my teeth, cursing that permanent reminder. “Yes.”
“And you swear on your life you’ve never done anything else? Never been tempted? Never gone too far in that one bedroom in the barn?” Her eyes blazed with distrust. “That kiss was the first and the last?”
I thudded a fist over my heart. “I promise on my life.”
A thick pause settled around us, cushioning the night.
“I believe you,” Patricia finally murmured. “I hear the honesty in what you’re saying.”
I nodded gratefully. “I’m sorry.”
She shook her head kindly. “Nothing to be sorry for. She’s young. Just like the day I caught her and Liam naked, she’s merely exploring her sexuality and confused on where desire fit in.”
I swallowed hard, refusing to let the word desire anywhere near the thought of Della.
John stepped forward, his face weary and wrinkled. “I think you better go. It’s late. We’ll all get some rest and deal with this in the morning.”
“I can’t sleep in that bedroom, sir.” My voice thickened with urgency. “I…I can’t stay here. I need to leave. That’s why I’m here. I need you to take care of Della. I’ll find another job. I’ll pay for her upkeep. But—” I glanced at Cassie’s whose eyes glassed with tears. “I don’t think it’s fair for me to continue trying to be her role model when I’m obviously failing.”
“You can’t go,” Cassie whispered. “That’s just stupid.”
“I…I don’t think I have a choice,” I whispered back, wishing I could offer sympathy but sensing that to touch her now would be the worst mistake of my life. I’d always known something deeper lurked beneath Cassie’s sweet affection and fierce tumbles in the hay. She pretended it was just casual sex between us, but occasionally, I’d catch that look in her eyes. The one she was giving me now. The look that petrified me because Della gave me the same look, only innocent.
It was love.
And love had hurt me enough.
“I’m sorry.” I rolled my shoulders. “To all of you.”
Patricia joined John, taking a few steps closer. “Don’t be silly, Ren. We love you and Della. We want both of you to stay. Move your things into the hay loft if it will make it easier. We’ll arrange for one of the stables to be converted into an extra bedroom. Now that Della knows kissing you is not permitted, things will go back to normal…you’ll see. No one needs to leave.” Her voice softened. “And besides, who will help John in the fields? You’ve been the best help we could have ever asked for. You’re family, not just an employee, and we won’t hear of this nonsense about you leaving.”
I was trapped.
Trapped between trying to do the right thing and being given permission to do the wrong one.
I didn’t want to leave.
The thought of walking away from Della ripped out my guts and left me dying, but how could I ever relax around her again? How could I speak to her without second-guessing if it was too affectionate? How could I ever touch her without fearing I was giving her mixed messages?
The carefree innocence we shared was forever lost.
John came closer and clasped my shoulder with his large, hairy hand. “I don’t like that you lied to us, but I know you’re a good man, Ren Wild. It’s late. Go to bed. I’ll come see you in the morning.” His eyes flashed with more, but he held his tongue.
With nothing else to do, I murmured goodnight and returned to the barn where I’d assumed Della would be curled up tight in bed. I should’ve just headed to the hay loft to sleep amongst the grain and grass, but something made me check. Something clawed inside to see…to make sure she was okay.
She’d been just as distraught as I was and had no one to console her.
Part of me was glad she suffered—if it taught her the valuable lesson never to do it again, then so be it. But most of me twisted with agony, knowing she was sad and I hadn’t been there to dry her tears and hug away her heartache.
My thoughts were tangled as I snuck into the bedroom, my eyes locking onto Della’s bed.
Then nothing else mattered.
Not the kiss.
Not the mess.
Nothing.
Because she wasn’t there.
Her bed was empty.
The barn, too.
It took me two minutes to learn that the emptiness inside the place we called home was just the beginning of the emptiness inside me.
I tore apart every hiding place she’d ever used. I galloped over the fields and screamed at the top of my lungs for a reply.
But she wasn’t there to answer.
She wasn’t there at all.
And now, after pointless wastage of time, trying to decide what I should do, I made the only decision I could.
I couldn’t let her be out in the world on her own.
I couldn’t forget her and turn my back.
I would never forgive myself, just like I would never forgive her for every disastrous consequence she’d caused by kissing me.
What was the right thing to do?
The right thing was to chase after her, keep her safe, and bring her back here…to where she belonged. I was the one who should leave.
My hands shook as I hurried to our one piece of furniture and pulled out one of the lined workbooks she’d given me to practice with. The shared dresser beneath our TV held a jumble of hers and my belongings—blending together, just like us.
Her socks on my socks.
Her dresses beneath my shorts.
Even our goddamn clothes liked to be close, and I slammed the drawer with a nauseous roil.
Perching on the edge of my bed, I quickly—or as fast as I could with my chicken scratch—wrote my third apology for the night.
Della had run, and I was about to vanish after her.
There were no times for goodbyes.
Dear John and Patricia,
What can I say?
I have to go after her. It’s the only thing I—
“Ren.”
My head shot up, my pen skidding across the page.
John stood on the threshold, his face tight and a black dressing gown thrown over his plaid pyjamas. “Can I speak to you?”
I stood, tossing the unneeded letter onto the mattress. “I need to talk to you, too. I’m leaving. She’s run away.”
“Oh, shit.” His eyes turned forlorn as he nodded. “Of course. You must go after her.”
I didn’t know why he was here, but I was grateful he’d come, if only so he knew why I was about to walk out of his life with no guarantee of coming back.
John stood awkwardly while I yanked up my sheets and ducked to yank my old backpack out from beneath the bed.
Only, it wasn’t there. Just a dust-free patch where it used to be, along with a skid mark from where Della had pulled it free.
“Shit,” I breathed. “Shit.”
Clambering upright, I glanced around the room. There was nothing else I could use to carry the supplies we might need.
“Eh, here…this is for you.” John cleared his throat. “Take it.”
An eerie sense of déjà-vu hit me. Years ago, I’d stood in their guest bedroom as he offered my first salary, and I’d traded it in for Della’s well-being.
Now, he held out an even larger envelope.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“It’s the rest of your income and bonuses.”
“But I thought you were spending it on Della’s education and things?”
“She’s in public school, and she costs very little to run with most of our produce coming straight from the garden. If Cassie cost half what she did,
I’d be a rich man.” He smirked half-heartedly. “Never a day went by that I didn’t ensure I was paying you what you were worth. Patricia ran the books. With the bonuses and business increase you helped create, you have more than enough saved to put a deposit on your own place or do whatever you need to do.”
My feet locked to the ground. I narrowed my eyes. “Why do I get the feeling this is charity?” Anger tinged my voice. “I’m not some homeless kid anymore. I’m twenty-three. I don’t need your—”
“I know you don’t, and it’s not. This is rightfully yours, and I wouldn’t feel right keeping it.” The air thickened as he crossed the distance between us and forced it into my hand.
I swallowed as the weight of money settled into my grip.
And then I knew why he’d given it to me.
Tonight would never have had a different ending—regardless if Della had run away or not.
My fingers tightened around the cash. “You’re saying goodbye.”
John shoved his hands into his dressing gown pockets, looking at the floor. “Patricia is right. We love you like family. You’re not just an employee, and I don’t want to see you go. I love having you and Della here, and I’m eternally grateful for all your help. But…this is a small town, Ren. I know you said you and Della aren’t blood relatives…but that doesn’t change facts.”
I sighed heavily, feeling disgusted all over again. “I know.”
“If people find out. If Della tries it again—”
“She won’t,” I snapped. “Believe me. When I find her, she’ll never wish to kiss another person again.”
“That might be.” He nodded. “But here, people believe you’re brother and sister. If Cassie talks or even if Della talks, you stand a high chance of arrest just from local gossip. You’ve done well by that girl. No matter what you think, you are a good role model for her. But right now, this place would only hurt you if you stay.”
Clutching the wad of money, goosebumps scattered over my arms. “You don’t want us to come back.”
He smiled sadly. “It’s not that I don’t want you. Hopefully, one day you’ll visit, and things will be back to normal. But for now, you need to be somewhere that hasn’t watched you two grow up and already have their perceived realities.”
Ren and Della: Boxed Set (Ribbon Duet Book 3) Page 29
