Untamed Page 47

My heart pitter-patters inside my chest as his shirt rides up. “She told me I should.”

He grins when he notices me checking him out and lifts his shirt up to tease me a little. “Like what you see?” he signs, tucking his journal under his arm.

I roll my eyes, but grin as I round the car to the passenger side. “So, where are we going today?” I tug my short brown and purple hair into a ponytail and secure it with an elastic.

He slides off the hood and rakes his hands over his short black hair, a look we’re still getting used to. “I was thinking we could drive down to the beach and build a sand castle. You haven’t done that before. And I was thinking that we could maybe do that memorial for your brother while we’re there. I mean, if you’re ready. You don’t have to, though. No pressure.”

My brother’s body is buried back in Wyoming, in a cemetery near the foothills. My mother and father were in jail, but from what I understand, no one attended the funeral. I wanted to, but Detective Stale warned that going back to Laramie would be risking my new life. Even though I still feel horrible over it, I decided it was best not to go.

But I’ve been meaning to do something in his memory and Ryler suggested I write a letter to him that we can stick in a bottle and send out to sea. That way it lives on for as long as the water will carry it.

I suck in a deep breath. “No, I’m ready to do it. It’s time to say goodbye I think.”

He nods then his lips tug into a devious grin. “And I brought Jäger for afterward, so we can spend the rest of the night calling each other pretty.”

Even after eight months, I still get the slightest bit embarrassed over my drunken words. I shake my head, my cheeks warming, but then I laugh. “Good. Can’t wait.”

A long time ago, when Ryler and I first met, he promised to give me a lot of firsts. He’s been making good on that promise since we got here. Every free day we get from our classes and jobs, we spend time doing stuff. He started with all the intimate stuff first; teaching me things about sex, my body, and myself that I didn’t know could even exist. Then came the everyday stuff, like driving a stick shift, trying new food, watching movies I’d never seen before, seeing the ocean for the first time. I even got my very first tattoo; an intricate tree that weaves up my shoulders blades, the branches shifting into birds at the base of my neck. With each prick of the needle, I felt freer and freer from my old life and Ryler was there to hold my hand.

I’m so different from the girl who grew up in Ralingford, and I’d like to believe that if anyone from my old life every saw me, they wouldn’t recognize who I am. I hope that’s the case.

Even though Donny Elderman, my father, my mother, and a lot of others were arrested when Ralingford was brought down, some managed to escape. While I’m not positive my father won’t have someone track me down, all I can do is live my life. All I can do is keep breathing and be grateful that I have the freedom to breathe.

“And thank you,” I tell him. “I really mean it. Thank you for everything. For being there for me when no one else ever has been.”

He smiles warmly. “I’ll always be there for you, Em. You should know that by now.”

“I do.” Smiling, I climb in the car.

He opens the driver’s side door, slides into the seat, and turns on the engine. “You look happy,” he signs with a thoughtful look on his face, then tugs at a loose strand of my hair.

“I am happy,” I reply, buckling my seatbelt.

“Good. I want you to be happy.”

“I want you to be happy, too.”

I am, he mouths. Then just to prove his point, he leans over the console and kisses me with so much passion I damn near melt into a puddle on his seat. When he pulls away, he flashes me a lopsided grin and backs the car out of the parking spot.

I pick up the iPod, turn on “The Drug In Me Is You” by Falling In Reverse, and hum along to the lyrics.

As Ryler drives out onto the road, he laces our fingers together, and I grip on tight. My heart flutters with excitement like it does every time I’m with him. I love that it’s able to react that way. Love that my past didn’t ruin me completely.

During the beginning of our move, I worried I was broken. That I’d never be normal. And while I don’t believe that I completely fit the definition now, I’m content with where I am. Normal is overrated anyway. Being yourself is what’s most important. And I finally found who that is—who I am.

We hold hands for most of the drive. By the time we make it to the shoreline, the sun is descending and the sky above the water shimmers with hues of pink and gold.

Ryler and I get out of the car with a bottle with the letter I wrote and hike down the beach to where the ocean kisses the shore.

I stand in the sand, staring out at the lulling water, the wind blowing through my hair. “Ellis never got to see the ocean,” I say softly, my heart fluttering in my chest.

This is harder than I thought.

But saying goodbye is always difficult.

Ryler squeezes my hand and the contact gives me the strength I need.

I give one final glance at the paper, skimming over the words I wrote to Ellis.

You were the best brother I never really got to know.

The brother who came to me after death

and forgave me for forgetting

things that should have never been forgotten.

I wish I could have given you more.

Saved you before the dirt took you.

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