The Boy and His Ribbon (The Ribbon Duet, #1)(96)

I glanced toward the farmhouse as if I could see through walls and witness Cassie asleep in her bed. “I didn’t mean—”

“I know you didn’t.” He held up his hand. “But that’s just who you are, Ren. You care about others so much they feel incredibly special. You give them the clothes off your back. You donate every penny for their benefit. You have no other purpose in life but to support those you care about, and that sort of dedication can be hard not to fall for.”

“You’re wrong.” Guilt squeezed. “I was never that kind to Cassie. And I’m only generous to Della because it’s my fault she has no parents—”

“I don’t believe that. It sounds as though Della is lucky you took her that night. Her parents are monsters. And you treated Cassie better than most. Don’t let that weigh you down. You’re a good kid, Ren.” He crossed the threshold, shuffling with reluctant steps. “But if I can give you any word of advice for the next few years of raising Della, I would say let her trip up occasionally. Pull back. Let her make mistakes. Let her know you’re there for her but don’t be her everything. Do that, and this passing phase will be just that—a phase. But if you don’t…you’ll have trouble.”

I stepped toward him, desperate for guidance, while at the same time, wanting to run from any future problems. I just wanted her normal. I wanted things to be normal between us. There was no doubt in my mind that I would find her; even now, the urge to chase built every second until I struggled to stay in one spot.

But this was one of those moments that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up with importance. I hadn’t been guided in my role as a guardian, and so far, I’d managed to keep her alive but not enforce the rules she badly needed.

I looked up to John, and if he wanted to share a piece of wisdom, then I wanted to listen. “What sort of trouble?” I asked softly. “What am I doing wrong?”

“You’re not doing anything wrong. You’re doing everything right. Too right. So right, in fact, you’re giving her an unrealistic view of the male sex, and when she starts dating, the only person she’ll have to compare them to is you, and she’ll find them lacking every time.” He smiled kindly. “Show her you’re human, that you have flaws and a temper just like everyone else. Otherwise…”

“Otherwise what?”

“She won’t just use you as an experiment next time. She’ll fall in love with you and everything you’ve built together will vanish because you won’t permit her to want you and she won’t be able to keep living with something she can’t have. You’ll break apart, and the surname that links you together as surely as mine does to my wife and children will mean nothing.”

He pulled the door to behind him, granting final words that stopped my heart. “Figure out a way to keep her as your sister, Ren. Otherwise, you won’t have her at all.”

*

I left Cherry River with far less than I arrived with.

I had no Della, no flu, no backpack, no tent.

All I had was an envelope of cash tucked safely in my waistband with two t-shirts on, a thick jumper, and my winter jacket. In my pockets, I had a spare set of underwear and socks, and on my head, a beanie with sunglasses perched for all types of seasons I might encounter.

John’s words kept me company as I crunched down their gravel driveway one last time, turned in the direction my heart tugged me—all the while hoping it was the right choice to find Della—and never looked back.

I struck off into a jog.

My mind locked on finding my runaway Ribbon.

I didn’t say goodbye.





CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR


REN



2013





I LOST HER for two full days.

The first few hours, I wasn’t worried.

I figured I knew her enough that she’d head to one of her friend’s from school, follow the main road, get tired, and rest along the verge.

That theory was dashed by the time I arrived at the friend’s house in question, and her mother informed me with sleepy frustration that there was no reason to get her out of bed at four in the morning because Della wasn’t there.

I’d waited until dawn, sitting in their deck chairs on the lawn, waiting to see if Della would turn up, hoping she would, begging her to.

But by the time the sun warmed the world, I had to accept defeat.

She hadn’t come this way.

By midmorning, fear crept over my anger, and I no longer thought about her with a thinning of my lips and discipline on my mind but with an ever-fledgling panic. She was no longer the bold girl who’d kissed me without permission. She was a child lost and alone and at the mercy of all manner of creatures.

Most of them men.

Heinous, horrible men who would gladly accept a kiss and so much else.

My heart never fell below a steady race as I jogged through downtown, visited her local familiar hang-outs, and racked my brain for her favourite places and people.

By the time another evening rolled around, I hadn’t eaten or drank. I raged on terrified adrenaline. I didn’t need fuel because the urgency to find her before another night fell kept me pumped and focused.

I’d exhausted all my options in town.

The next place I had to search was the first place I would’ve gone but not somewhere I’d expect her to find sanctuary in.