Page 32 of The Darkest Parts of Me

“And?”

He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. I catch his scent—rain and something else I can’t place at the moment. “It was nothing really. I mostly just wanted to show her the nice-looking scar I now have on my forearm from the roof.”

Tash guffaws, but I squint at him, challenging him to see if he’s all jokes or if he’ll say what I think he wants to.

“Okay, fine. I like your mom, so I also wanted to let her know I was sad to see her go, but that I look forward to when she returns.”

I cock my head this time. “Really?” I wonder.

“And,” he goes on, a bit softer this time, as if bashful about his next statement, “that I would look out for her daughter even if I think she can take care of herself. Regardless, I will still come if she calls.”

Tash sighs, and I’m interrupted before I can say anything.

“Alright, everyone! We’ve got four miles until we make camp for the night. Be ready to move in five minutes,” one of the guides calls out.

Renn stands. “I guess I’ll see you two around.” He smiles at me for a second longer, and I hold back the urge to grin back and settle for a smirk. I feel like he understood the frustration I was feeling toward him, and that in some underlying way, he was saying sorry.

Once he’s a safe distance away, Tasha eyes me suspiciously. “Is it just me or is the tension between you two reaching out of this world heights?”

I shrug, and we gather our packs, strapping them onto our backs once again. Then I turn to Tasha, grinning.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Renn

Iwasn’t exaggerating when I told Tasha and Maven that it was a last-minute decision to join the retreat. Luckily, I already had all the gear I needed for the journey. The hard part was deciding what else to take with me. I tossed and turned about it the night before, wondering if I should bring the beacon, but thought better of it for the fact that someone might discover it and start asking unwanted questions. It is much safer to keep it at home, even if that means it’ll be awhile until I can check it. I didn’t expect how strange it would feel leaving it behind, like a weight has been lifted off of me. It’s freed me from having to make the choice to pull out the transmitter or not, waiting for the unchanging results again and again. It was a risky move, so I left the transmitter on, but the likelihood of anyone picking up or sending a message while I’m away is near zero since it hasn’t happened a single time in five years. And besides, watching Maven’s face as I rode up this morning was both satisfying and amusing.

Worth every worry I had. And yes, I was watching her.

It took some serious control not to laugh at our exchange this morning, but I know I saw something else in the radiant blue of her eyes—I may even dare to say it was enthusiasm, knowing that I would be coming along.

I’d ended up toward the back of the group as we set off this morning, and every once in a while, when I would glance up the trail, I would spot Maven, her long, dark hair pulled back, swinging as it draped down her back. I also couldn’t help but notice the scars on her knees and legs. The largest is on her upper right thigh, while others aren’t as noticeable, but because of the shorts she’s wearing, it’s hard not to stare. Some marks seem to have been made with precision, while others are more jagged. I assume they must be from the accident and possibly surgery, or surgeries. Seeing them on her skin made me realize just how severe the accident must have been, but what struck me most of all was that she isn’t shy about revealing them to the world. She carries them with grace, and I decide it’s the most attractive thing about her—that she bears it all with pride and won’t let anything limit her, not even people’s stares and whispers, which are hard to miss.

When Valery just so happened to mention, the night before the retreat, that Maven was going this year with Tasha, I immediately felt an internal pull, a gravitational force, drawing me to her. It wasn’t going away, it only seemed to be getting harder to ignore.

And so, a few hours later, I find myself hiking through the thick wilderness with people I know and some I do not, but it doesn’t matter who’s here, because I’m only here for one reason—one person.

We continue our journey after the break, and I stay close to Tasha and Maven for the next few miles. One minute, the group is moving at a good pace through the evergreen landscape, the next, we abruptly halt when a scream of pain rings out through the trees. I don’t see it happen, but the sound alone tells me that it’s not good. Without thinking, I push through the gathered crowd and discover that one of the guides has twisted their ankle. It already looks swollen where she lies on the dirt path. I hadn’t intended to intervene, but Asher, our head guide who is supporting her, spots me.

“Renn. Would you mind taking a look?” Asher has been leading these hiking retreats for the last few years, and when a little girl went missing a couple of years ago, he and I covered a lot of ground together, so he’s familiar with my skills and background.

“Sure,” I say, sliding off my pack before kneeling next to Talla, a local, but I don’t know her well. She looks up at me with tears in her eyes. “I just need to examine it closer. I’ll be gentle, but it may hurt a little,” I say, keeping my voice calm.

She only nods in response. She winces as I place my hands on the swollen ankle, turning it ever so slightly, causing her to grip the arm of another guide, holding her tighter.

“It could be a bad sprain, but I think it’s broken.” I pause. “I’m sorry,” I say, looking at her, and she gives me a tight-lipped smile.

“I’m so sorry, everyone,” she says, glancing around the group, tears in her eyes.

“It’s okay, T. It could have happened to any of us,” Asher says, kneeling to lay a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Let me get in touch with the office crew to see what we can do.” Asher steps away to search for a clearing to make the call using the satellite phone. The rest of the hiking group waits, some taking the opportunity to rest while others appear a little on edge with concern. One of the other guides briefly goes through the group to explain the situation.

After a few minutes, Asher returns, looking slightly relieved. “I radioed in, and a team can be at the trailhead within a couple of hours. If we can get back down to the first marker, they should be able to meet us with a stretcher to get her down from that point.” We nod along. “The problem is, that means two of us will have to abandon the group. Leaving only two guides to lead the rest of you to camp for the night.” The group exchanges worried glances, and I already know what that means.

“I can do it,” I say. They all look at me and then at Asher.

“You sure?” he asks.

“If you’re concerned about leaving only two guides here with the group, I’d be happy to go with one of you to get Talla to the meeting point. If we leave now and then hike back at a fast pace, we should be able to get to camp before we completely lose the light.”

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