The Boy and His Ribbon (The Ribbon Duet, #1)(97)

Especially on her own.

Doubling back toward the outskirts of town and keeping my eye on the horizon where Cherry River Farm had once been our home, I traded paved roads for bracken paths and shed off the city veneer I’d worn while living around people.

The forest.

My real home.

I relished in letting the wildness inside me take over and lengthened my stride until I covered miles upon miles, ducking around trees, listening for any animals complaining at having a human amongst their midst, doing my best to track her like any good predator would his prey.

But as another night fell, slicing me from Della for a full twenty-four hours, I had to rest.

I slowed to a walk, let my eyes adjust to the crescent moon glow, and padded as quietly as I could, hoping against hope to hear the girl I would die for.

*

Another morning.

No rest.

No luck.

No Della.

My stomach growled, and my thirst had gotten the better of me around two a.m., making me drink like a beast with hands cupped to my face from the river.

I’d followed the meandering water for a while, hoping Della would be smart and do what I’d taught her.

Anything was survivable as long as you had an abundant water source.

If she wasn’t near the river, and she wasn’t hiding with friends…where was she?

How would I find her?

How would I keep her safe?

My legs had turned to jelly hours ago, and I half-stumbled, half-jogged forward, always seeking, never finding.

I had no food.

I had no time to find food.

I had a waistband full of money, but it was utterly useless out here in a world of trees and woodland.

If I didn’t find her soon, I’d have no choice but to return to civilization and gather supplies. I would turn the pointless dollar bills into practical belongings and never rest until we were back together again.

Another lunchtime and still no sign of her.

No noise.

No hint.

No clue.

I kept pushing forward, calling her name, peering into the hazy green foliage while stripping off overheating jackets and jumpers in the spring heat.

Another evening and still alone.

No progress.

No success.

No reunion.

And by midnight, when darkness thickened to its blackest and day-dwellers traded places with nocturnal, I had no choice but to put myself first, no matter how much it killed me.

My body needed help.

I had to be smart and feed the snarling emptiness in my belly, so I could find a way to repair the howling emptiness in my heart.

It took a few hours to switch direction and leave the river behind.

I cut through small tracks made by mammals and weaved around knobbly trees. I fell over at one point, almost too exhausted to stand, but I found my final reserves, hauling myself onward into an energy depleting march.

And lucky I did.

Because at the point when I was closest to giving up, that was the moment I found her.





CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE


DELLA



Present Day




NOW…BEFORE YOU judge me…

Let’s talk about that kiss for a second.

It was wrong; I know that.

It was morally gross; I know that, too.

It was all manners of bad, considering I took advantage of the boy who’d dedicated his entire life to making sure I was happy, cared for, and safe. I plotted silently in the dark; I willingly waited until his breathing changed and I knew he was asleep before I swallowed back the guilt, the nerves, and the shame to press my mouth to his.

I know everything I did was wrong, okay?

So you don’t need to tell me how majorly I screwed up. The instant his lips softened beneath mine, and I felt something I’d never felt when kissing Liam, I’d known just how terribly I’d screwed up.

Hugely.

Monstrously.

Life-ruiningly.

When his mouth parted, and the sweetest, heaviest sigh escaped him, and his hand came up to twine possessively in my hair, I knew I would forever punish myself for doing something so far out of permission.

Not because Ren kissed me back.

Not because he tasted so perfect or the quick flick of his tongue made a fireball ignite in my lower belly, but because, in that fleeting moment when my eyes grew heavy and I closed them to concentrate on kissing someone I never should have kissed, I grew up in an instant.

I felt things no girl should feel.

I understood things no child would know.

And I condemned myself because, as fast and as innocent as the kiss had been, it had showed me that I would never be allowed the one thing I wanted with all my heart.

Again, this is where my past knits with my present, and I can’t explain the true feelings I had then because they’re so tangled with my current heartache that it’s hard to distinguish the two.

What I can tell you is I didn’t need to be punished because I’d punished myself. I didn’t need to be told how wrong it was because I’d already whipped and cursed and shouted at myself. And I didn’t need anyone to tell me that it could never happen again because the moment my lips touched his…I knew.

I knew he was off limits.

I knew he would never be mine.

And the pain…ouch, even as a thirteen-year-old, it was excruciating.

Now that I’m eighteen and I’ve lived with that pain daily, pretending that I only think of him as my friend, convincing him—and sometimes myself—that he is far too precious to me to ever risk another idiotic move like that—I know in my heart of hearts, I don’t have much left.