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I hadn’t cried. Couldn’t. Maybe I’d run out of tears. Or maybe it was seeing Reno standing outside his trailer, dressed in black, his proud body standing tall and his hands in his pockets. But the eyes that met mine had belonged to the three-year-old little boy who'd thought Brett was a superhero who’d saved his family. He’d looked so lost. I’d ran to him. Took his hand. And never let go. I would be strong for him. I’d wait for him and I’d be there as long as he needed me.

He shook out of my grasp in the car on the way to the wake, which was being held at Trent Donovan’s place. I let him go. Reluctantly. The next time I saw him, he had a glass of whisky in his hand. And by the looks of it, not his first. I got waylaid by Mrs. Donovan, Trent's wife, on my way over to him. Foot tapping with impatience and my concern building, I listened politely as she asked how Reno was doing and expressed how much Brett had meant to her and her husband. The Donovans were high school sweethearts, and both had attended high school with Brett. It was clear how much they cared about him, and by extension Reno. They’d been helping with the funeral arrangements, Brett’s insurance, the running of the garage. All the grown-up things Reno shouldn’t have had to deal with yet. I was glad he had them. When I scanned the room for Reno and came up empty a third time, I excused myself and made a beeline for Leon instead.

“Le, have you seen Ren?”

Leon had been at Reno's place almost as much as I had. I’d seen two guys, who’d both broken bones with hardly more than a wince, shed tears for men they loved and would never get back. They’d gotten over the awkwardness mine and Reno’s relationship caused, quickly realizing how trivial it was. Death had a way of putting things in perspective.

“He went to take a leak,” he said, hands jammed in his pockets. His eyes narrowed as he glanced around the room. “But that was a while ago.”

He turned to the guys just behind him. “You seen Ren?”

“Thought he left a while ago,” Mack said. The others frowned.

“Left?” I hissed, my accusatory glare landing back on Leon. “You let him leave?”

He held his hands up. “He said he was taking a piss, Ri.” His eyes softened and he placed his hands on my shoulders. “Don’t worry, babe. I’ll go find him.”

“No.” I shrugged out of his hold, heading for the door. “I’ll go.”

“You sure? You want me to come with?”

“No, it’s okay. Thanks, Le.” I glanced back. “And sorry. For yelling.”

He shrugged and smiled, but concern carved his features. “Nothing to be sorry for, Ri.”

Liss dropped me at the entrance to the trailer park and I raced to Reno’s place. The trailer sat in darkness, every window shuttered, but when I tried the door, it swung open with ease.

“Reno,” I called, keeping my voice low.

I only had to take one step inside to find him. Slumped on the worn carpet with his head hanging low, one leg bent and the other stretched out in front of him, a bottle of whiskey propped against his thigh.

“Hey,” I whispered, crossing the distance between us and dropping to my knees. “Hey, I'm here.”

He made no move to touch me, but when I shifted the near empty bottle and took his face in my hands, he didn't stop me.

“I'm here.” I breathed the words over and over, against his cheeks, his half-closed eyes, his head and his lips, as moisture tracked from the corners of my eyes and coasted down my face. He was so utterly broken and so fucking alone. But he still had me. I hadn’t been able to get that through to him, and tonight, I needed him to know he would always have me. No matter what it cost me.

I kissed him, once, twice, with no response. Gripping his face harder, I pressed my mouth hard against his, my tongue sweeping against the seam of his lips, and he stirred. His hands shifted, grabbing each of my butt cheeks and dragging me roughly over his lap until I was straddling him. With a feral growl, he kneaded my flesh, his movements desperate, and then his head lifted, his mouth capturing mine with a brutality I hadn't expected.

Before I knew what was happening, he lifted me from the ground, his solid arms circling my body and carrying me through the narrow hallway. His lips never stopped their onslaught against mine. Pushing me through a door backward, I broke contact to get my bearings, but then I was airborne, my back landing on the thin mattress with a winding thump. I pushed my elbows into the soft surface, trying to catch my breath, but he was on me before I could suck in a lungful of air. His mouth biting and sucking at mine, his hands tearing at my clothes. I was naked and shaking underneath him in seconds. He shifted back on his haunches without looking at my face and unzipped the black pants he’d worn to bury his family, the look in his eyes distant, unfocused. He wasn't here with me.

“Ren.”

I wanted to bring him into the moment, to make him look into my eyes and just see me. We hadn’t done this yet; he’d wanted to wait. Wanted to make sure I was ready. But now he freed himself, fisting himself in his hand before dropping between my legs and thrusting forcefully into me. Choki

ng on a cry, I instinctively tightened my thighs around him, squeezing my eyes closed against the searing pain. I'd only ever wanted my first time to be with him, but not like this. Not with him off somewhere in his own head. Breathing through the pain my body hadn't been given time to adjust to, I tried to force myself to relax, to allow him to pour some of his heartbreak into me. He was drowning, fighting for breath. I could offer him some relief from that.

With a grunt, he dipped his head into the crook of my neck. Gingerly, I rested a hand against his head, trying to soothe his anguish. All the while he continued driving into me wordlessly, relentlessly pumping his hips until eventually he shuddered and stilled.

I lay there, my heartbeat echoing in my skull as his thundered against my chest. Neither of us moved, except for my fingers stroking through his damp hair. His heart rate slowly decreased, and when his breaths evened out, I carefully rolled his weight off me and crawled off the bed. Stumbling to the bathroom, I dropped onto the linoleum floor with a wince.

A sob worked its way up my throat and heaved from my body as I curled onto my side, wrapping my arms around myself. I was sad for him, for me, for us. I didn't regret being with him, giving him my virginity. I'd come here intending to give him whatever he needed, doing whatever it took to make him understand I would always be here for him, and he didn't have to face all of this alone. I just... didn't think I’d managed to do that.

I'd allowed him to use my body to ease his suffering, but I hadn't come close to touching his pain. I hadn't gotten through to him; I'd barely comforted him. All I'd done was give him a momentary release, but it would all still be waiting for him when he woke up. All this time, I'd saved myself for him without even knowing it, and he hadn't even been able to look me in the eyes. And while I'd willingly handed over one of the most important parts of myself, one I'd never get back, he'd fucked me as if I weren’t even there. As if I was Raya Mitchell or some other random girl he used to sleep with before me.

Unable to leave him alone, I climbed up from the bathroom floor and padded back to the bedroom. Sliding beneath the covers beside him, I pulled them over both of us and allowed sleep to take me. When I woke the next morning, the bed was empty. My eyes scanned the room and found Reno sitting on a chair, his head lowered, legs braced apart. His fists were closed so tightly, his knuckles were white.

I cleared my throat, lifting on one elbow and tugging at the sheet to cover my bare chest. Reno raised his head slowly. When our eyes met, his overflowed with guilt, a storm of regret etched all over his beautiful face. He coughed lightly, dipping his gaze.

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