The Boy and His Ribbon (The Ribbon Duet, #1)(131)

Each woman I hooked up with was just buying me time, even though I felt it running out. I told myself things between me and Della would go back to the way things were if I got my rampant desire under control. That it wasn’t her I dreamed about but some nasty side effect of not having sex for so long.

I’d done my best to believe my lies. I’d honestly wished they were true as I smiled at faceless women and touched unwanted places.

It didn’t matter that my lust was being controlled, it didn’t stop my dreams becoming more graphic or my days become more difficult the deeper I fell into Della.

I could fuck every female I could find but in the end…no one could cure me but her.

And now, I’d hurt her so much she’d snapped just like I had.

She’d willingly chosen self-harm because it was the only way to leach out some of the pain.

So yes, I wanted to be livid with her. I wanted to strike her, grab her, kiss her with every red-tinted rage, but hearing such desolation from the girl I loved, I couldn’t do it.

All I cared about was her safety, her happiness.

All I needed was to get her home.

I clutched at my hair, digging fingernails into my scalp, doing my best to get myself under control. I didn’t want to think about what she’d told me. I didn’t want to visualise what she’d done. And I daren’t focus on how crippled I was knowing she was no longer a virgin.

“Yo, man, party’s over.” A tipsy boy waved my way, his arm slung over some brunette as they made their way down the garden path. For a house party, the place was well tended with manicured bushes and lush grass.

I didn’t know why that bothered me. Why this place was ten times nicer than the apartment Della and I shared or that whoever had accepted her invitation to sleep with her might come from much better stock than me.

He might have money, manners, and mansions.

And what did I have?

Fucking nothing because Della had deliberately torn out my heart and ensured nothing would ever be right again.

Swinging my leg over the bike, I ignored the leaving couple and marched up to the front door. Pushing it open, I entered the cream foyer and narrowed my eyes at the reek of booze and weed.

Only a few lights were on, scattered like islands in the darkness as I made my way through the living room to the kitchen to the den.

No signs of a blonde girl in a black dress.

With sick despair, I followed more rooms, past making out students and giggling girls until I stumbled upon the one thing I couldn’t live without.

Curled up in another man’s arms, her cheeks pink as he murmured something in her ear.

His hand on her thigh. His lips on her throat.

It was more than I could fucking bear.

Della ran a fingertip along the rim of a champagne glass looking every inch an adult. There was nothing girlish about her with her sex-tussled hair, tight dress, and jaded look in her stunning blue eyes.

I stumbled at the sight as the man grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch and draped it over her lap, stroking her softly. She smiled in thanks, tucking it behind her, hiding the long expanse of beautiful legs, sneaking away the ribbon tattoo complete with its R.

I thought I couldn’t stand seeing him touch her before. But it was nothing compared to the shredding, slashing sorrow now.

“Della,” I breathed, marching as steadily as I could toward them.

She froze. Her eyes round and shooting to mine. “Ren…what—what are you doing here?”

My hands curled as the man looked me up and down, studying me, judging me, waging war with just one glance.

Tearing my eyes from my enemy, I said, “I came to take you home.”

She sipped her half-full champagne. “I’m not ready to go home yet.”

Anger sneaked over my pain, granting me safe haven from my misery. I latched onto it, desperate to feel anything but the grief I had no right to feel. “Don’t argue with me.”

“Don’t command me then.”

“I’m not commanding you.”

“Yes, you are.” Her eyes narrowed. “I’m a big girl, Ren. Run along back to Rachel989.”

I stiffened. “What?”

“You heard me.” She slugged back the rest of the drink in one mouthful.

“I can take her home. Don’t worry about her,” the man dared to say.

I didn’t look at him, keeping my eyes fixed on Della as I tried and failed not to see the change in her. The new knowledge in her gaze. I’d hoped…

Fuck, I’d hoped it was a lie.

That she’d said something so hurtful on the phone just to punish me, but now, I knew.

She was telling the truth, and she’d fucked the guy currently holding her close like I wanted to do.

And shit…that fucking hurt.

“Della. Now.” I growled, quickly losing my temper. I’d never beaten someone up before, but if I didn’t get her out of his grip soon, I would.

Shoving off the blanket, Della swooped upright. Fire blazed in her eyes as she stalked in bare feet and stabbed me hard in the chest with her finger. “You don’t get to boss me around any longer. I’m almost eighteen, Ren. You don’t get to baby me anymore.”

Grabbing her wrist, I jerked her through the space and toward the front door. “You and I need to talk.”

“Hey!” She struggled. “Let me go.” Her fingernails scratched my skin, but I didn’t release her.