Once in the forest and far enough away from the farm, I pitched the tent, gathered her close, and made love to her like old times beneath the glittering stars.
At first, she resisted, claiming a headache. Then she lied and said she wasn’t interested.
Her refusal didn’t annoy me because yet again, I understood. “Della…”
She refused to meet my eyes, staring into the fire I’d built and coaxed into a warm blaze.
“Nothing has changed, Little Ribbon.”
Tears she’d bottled up cascaded down her cheeks as I went to her and cuddled her close. “Let me help…please?” Kissing her, I guided her onto the sleeping bag I’d spread on the ground, slowly undressing her, not making any sudden movements in case she ran.
My voice didn’t speak, but my body did.
It assured her that she was still who she believed and I was still who she knew. It convinced her, slowly, gently, that what we had outweighed any pain or terror from the past.
Hesitantly, she responded to my kisses, purred into my touch, and when she spread her legs and I slipped inside her, her gasp was full of sorrow.
We moved together, hands always touching, lips always kissing, our bodies thrusting in affirmation of life and love.
The cool air didn’t stop us. The owl hoots didn’t scare us. I didn’t care it was late in the season and snow seasoned the air. I didn’t care we shivered as we moved together, chasing an orgasm that wasn’t just about pleasure, but a declaration that we might have been touched by evil, but it hadn’t claimed us.
We’d chosen our own path, and we always would.
Afterward, with my body still in Della’s, I smoothed back her hair and cupped her cheeks. Lying over her with her trapped beneath me, I murmured, “You have never been, nor will you ever be like them, Della Ribbon.”
She flinched, the fire dancing in her eyes with golden spirals. For a second, a flash of ire said she wouldn’t talk to me. Then torment drenched her voice. “But how do you know? How do you know I won’t snap one day and—”
“I know because I raised you.”
“What if that filth can’t be changed? What if I’m lying to you and myself? What if I’m not a good person and could kill—”
“You are a good person.”
“But how do you know? Truly know?” Her gaze searched mine, desperate for an answer. “I’m so afraid I have no control. That I am what they made—not what you guided. That I have no choice.”
“You do have a choice. We all have a choice.”
“But genetics—”
“Have nothing to do with it.” I stared deep into her, needing her to believe me. “I know you are good and sweet and kind because I know you. I’ve known you your entire life.”
She squirmed beneath me. “That’s not an answer.”
“It is. It’s the best one. I’ve seen you grow, Della. I’ve seen you uncensored and undisciplined and uncivilized. I’ve seen you in every mood there is, and not once did you hurt anyone or anything. You weren’t malicious. You weren’t cruel. You were—”
“I was, though, don’t you see? I was cruel to you.”
I chuckled, hiding yet another cough. “You were never cruel to me.”
“But—”
“No buts.” Running a thumb over her pink lips, I whispered, “They had you for a year, Della. I’ve had you for almost twenty. Whatever they taught you or said to you is drowned out by the endless conversations and love we’ve shared.”
She frowned, running her tongue over my thumb. “Did you ever look at me like she did? Did you ever think I could be like them?”
“Never.”
“Not even when you didn’t want me?”
“Not even then.” Kissing her softly, I added, “And not wanting you lasted for a heartbeat before I became yours.”
“I’m sorry, Ren.”
“Nothing to apologise for.”
“I know…but I need to. Seeing that place. Seeing those bodies. Seeing how real it all was.”
I pushed those memories aside, just as I always shoved memories of that farmhouse away. “I accept your apology if it makes you feel better, but only if you accept mine.”
She frowned. “Why are you apologising?”
“Because I always blamed you for making my running all that much harder. I cursed you for being in my bag when all along, I should’ve been thanking you.” Pressing my forehead to hers, I hardened inside her, comforted by her body heat and already desperate for more. “Without you, I would’ve been shot before I ever crept back into the house to collect my supplies. My escape was all down to you being in that bag. You are the reason I’m alive, Della. Not the other way around.”
Her eyes softened, and the shadows that had lurked inside her dissolved. “Kiss me, Ren Shaw. I’m sick of apologies.”
I raised an eyebrow, my lips thinning in reproof. “Ask me again with the correct name.”