Page 36 of The Darkest Parts of Me

Renn bends down to meet me at eye level, then unscrews the lid from the container.

“May I?” he says, motioning to my knee.

My cheeks aren’t the only thing that suddenly goes hot. “Um, yeah. Go ahead.”

Renn uses two fingers to scoop up a small dab of the clear ointment, then sets the container on the ground. He looks at me, his eyes seeming to say, “Are you sure?” and I nod for him to proceed. He tenderly places a hand on my calf to raise my leg slightly so my foot hovers above the ground, using the other to smooth the ointment onto my knee. I watch his fingers trace over the scars, his touch so soft, featherlike. My leg burns, and I can’t tell if it’s from the ointment or his touch—probably both.

He looks up at me. “You okay?” he asks.

I gulp. “Yep.”

“It should start working fairly quickly,” he says, then lets go of my leg, setting it back down.

“Renn, everything okay here?” The guide, whose name I don’t remember, walks up, bringing the last of the group. I notice that Renn quickly places the tin back into his pack, almost as if he wants to hide it.

“Yeah, all good here. We just need a minute or two. My legs are pretty sore from the double hike to catch up with you guys yesterday,” Renn says casually, sneaking a wink at me.

“If you don’t mind bringing up the back in case anyone else needs a break, take all the time you need,” the guide says.

“No problem at all. We've got it.”

He gives Renn an appreciative nod and leaves the three of us behind.

We sit for a good twenty minutes before we get going again, and Renn wasn’t kidding when he said I should start to feel the effects of the ointment quickly. Within minutes, the pain is completely gone, and once we start moving, I expect it to wear off, but it doesn’t. For the next few miles, it’s just the three of us, and time seems to go by quickly.

At some point, Renn starts rattling off facts about the area and points out different kinds of wildflowers and plants that we pass.

Eventually, I ask, “How do you know so much about all of this?”

Tasha pipes in with, “Yeah! I’ve lived here my whole life and don’t know half of what you know. Show off!”

Renn grins with an innocent shrug. “I just like knowing my surroundings, I guess. I’ve read a lot about the area since arriving here.”

Must be some of that military jargon that has lingered. But “arriving?” There’s something about that choice of wording that sounds odd.

“Sounds like you didn’t come here by choice.” I don’t realize I say this aloud until I almost run into the back of Tasha because Renn has stopped abruptly ahead of her.

“What the—” Tash stumbles to keep her balance, and I grab her arm to steady her.

“Renn, you okay?” I ask.

Renn turns around, realizing that the three of us nearly collided. “Sorry. I just . . . No. I didn’t come here by choice.”

I scrunch my eyebrows together, confused. He licks his bottom lip, and I wonder if it’s a nervous habit of his, but why would he be nervous about this?

“I guess you could say it found me.”

I open my mouth to say more, but Tasha doesn’t see because she still has her back to me. “Right. You were looking for something small and quiet,” she says very matter-of-factly. Like everyone knows that, even if he’s never said it. My thoughts go back to what Valery said, that a lot of what people know about Renn are assumptions.

Renn starts moving up the trail again and says over his shoulder, “Yeah, something like that.”

Tash follows without hesitation; like nothing out of the ordinary just happened. But I stay where I am, my mind going everywhere all at once. So he is running away from something. What it is remains a mystery, but I was right after all.

“Mave! Are you coming?” Tash is up ahead of me, further than I realized, and waits for me to catch up to her. “Everything okay?” she asks.

I think about saying something, but decide to let it go. “Yeah, I’m good.”

We walk beside each other, Renn ahead of us. I keep my eyes on him, wondering what could ever cause him to run.

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