Page 75 of Touch of Hate

“No. I made a big deal about it so you would pay attention to me. I know, it’s stupid,” I admit with a laugh. “But I already had such a huge crush on you, and I knew you only looked at me like a little sister you needed to protect. So I figured that was a good way to at least make sure you comforted me.”

He stays silent, content to stare at me. Shit. This isn’t working, is it? No, I can’t give up. Not on Ren.

“And the harder I cried, the more attention you gave me.” I shrug, folding my arms and putting on the same playful, flirtatious act I used to give him back in the day. “Really, it’s your fault. If you had told me to shut up and deal with it like Q did, it would’ve been a different story. But no, you had to go and be all heroic and protective, and my twelve-year-old heart ate it up with a spoon.”

I can’t help but smile fondly at the memory. Sure, I was a complete brat to drag the two of them away from a camping trip they’d been looking forward to, but it wasn’t like I set out trying to cut the trip short. And when Ren suggested we go home because I was so freaked out, I couldn’t backpedal. Q would’ve picked up on it right away. I was sort of trapped.

“Kids do stupid things,” I conclude, still grinning. “But even then, I knew you were special. I couldn’t get you off my mind or out of my heart any more than I can now. It was always you.”

He nods slowly, his mouth set in a firm line. “Yeah. I have a habit of thinking I can save you, don’t I?”

There’s nothing to do but let my mouth drop open in dismay when he stands, taking my bowl along with his and putting them in the sink. “Looks like it bit me in the ass that time.”

What the hell?

I can’t peel my eyes away from the back of his head as he washes the dishes. It isn’t until the pain in my palms screams loud enough for me to notice it that I realize I’ve broken the skin, nails having pierced both hands.

It doesn’t hurt anywhere near as much as being dismissed so coldly.

Just last night, we were joking about the camping trip. He’s the one who brought it up, for God’s sake. I hadn’t thought about that trip in years.

Now? We might as well be strangers, all because I made the mistake of caring about him and my family at the same time. Is this how it’s always going to be? Having to choose between them? Because I’m not sure I can.

He’s my choice, now and always, but they still care about me. Mom couldn’t stand the thought of me flying to Corium—I can’t imagine what she must be going through now. Is it so wrong to want to lessen their stress? Why would I want to hurt them all because I love him?

Guilt tugs at my heart, and I can’t help thinking about Aspen. I really hope he got the message to Q sooner rather than later. I would hate to think about her going through stress while she’s pregnant.

Naturally, I can’t mention any of this to the back of Ren’s head. I shudder to think how he might lash out if I dared.

Tears well up in my eyes before I can stop them. It takes rapid, frantic blinking to push them back. I don’t want him to know how this is killing me. Seeing him like this. Knowing how badly he must’ve been hurt out here.

Stupid me. I used to think the most painful thing in life was being kept away from the person I loved.

Now I know there’s a fate far more painful. So terrible, I’m afraid my heart’s literally about to shatter. I can’t reach out and touch him—not when he’s like this, brooding in his dark place.

I can’t ask any questions about it for fear of how he’ll react.

I can’t help him. Not at this very moment, at least. I don’t know what to do. How to fix him.

No way would he want to act like this if he had any idea what he was doing. No, he either had a fall or was in an accident. Or maybe he was sick with a high fever and didn’t get treatment in time. This cabin seems very remote from what I’ve seen through the grimy windows. Trees and more trees. Even a moderate snow might make getting to a hospital all but impossible for a sick or injured person.

My poor Ren. Out here all alone, with no one to care.

And now he has someone who cares but isn’t well enough to accept help. Not all the time. Not when his temper flares up, and he ends up shutting me out of his life.

Out of his heart, even. It sure seems that way.

I can’t help but shed a tear, but I manage to brush it away before he turns to the stove and feeds more wood into its mouth.

My Ren. I’m going to get help for you if it’s the last thing I ever do.

Even though I know you’ll make it difficult.

20

SCARLET

The birds chirp madly outside the bedroom window as I open my eyes on yet another day of wondering how the hell we’re supposed to get through this together. After spending a long, boring day listening to him clicking the keys, he was still on his laptop when I went to bed last night.