Page 86 of The Darkest Parts of Me

Renn

“Nate?” I lower the gun slowly, not believing who is standing in front of me. He stares back at me, eyes wide and brown like a deer, his mouth slightly gaping.

“Holy shit. It really is you.” He says.

Before we can say anything else, we grab onto each other, gripping one another in a tight hug. I pull away, studying his face, feeling the tears stinging my eyes, and find the same tears in his eyes looking back at me. I take in his long hair and the short stubble on his face. He looks different, but it’s him. It’s Nate.

“How in the hell are you here right now?” I ask, my voice staggering. Nate looks at me with absolute disbelief, and I know I am wearing the same expression.

“I picked up on your signal about six weeks ago, but I wasn’t the only one who did.”

“Locke,” I say flatly, and Nate’s eyes go wide.

“He was here?”

I nod in response.

“What happened?”

“He’s dead.”

Nate’s eyes go wide again, but he calmly says, “You killed him.”

I nod again. His expression is a mix of shock and awe. “He got here the day before yesterday. He attacked me and a . . . friend.”

Nate shakes his head, struggling to find words. “Are you okay?” He looks at the cuts on my eyebrow and cheek.

“I looked much worse yesterday.”

“Who is this friend?” he asks quickly, the words muffled together slightly.

I take a deep breath. “She got hurt, but she’s okay.”

“She?” Nate’s eyebrows go so high, I can’t help but smile a little bit.

“Yes.”

“Does she know?” And I know what he’s implying.

“Yes.”

He blinks rapidly. “Okay, hold on. Back up. I need to know everything,” he says, putting up a hand. The phrase reminds me of how Tasha talks to Maven.

“Same goes for you,” I say, laughing, pushing his shoulder to test to see if this is real or a dream. Nate snickers, shaking his head with the same disbelief on his face.

“Is this really happening? Are you really here right now?” he says, grabbing on to my shoulders. I smile wide, and it’s all a bit much to put words together. “Renn. You’re alive.” He says it as if he needs to hear it aloud to believe it.

“I’m alive,” I say, smiling. “And so are you. How?”

He smiles back. “How are you alive? That’s the bigger question. You’ve been MIA for six years.” He steps back a little, scanning me as I do him. He looks older, but well. Age has only enhanced his good looks, which I’m sure he already knows, so I don’t feed his ego even now. I must look different to him too. “I like the lumberjack hipster look. Reminds me of when it was back in style like twenty years ago on Earth,” he says through a laugh.

I shake my head, blowing my lips. “Hey, don’t give me shit about my clothes. I actually really like them,” I say, looking down at myself.

“I was kidding. I like it too. It suits you,” he says, looking me over again.

“I could say the same for you,” I say, looking him over again. He really is standing in front of me right now.

“What can I say? For the first time in, what? Forever? I get to grow my hair out and wear whatever I want. Well, for the most part. I am still technically in the SEA”

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