Page 114 of Severed Heart (The Ravenhood Legacy #2)

“For what?” she asks, her eyes half-closed from exhaustion.

“And meet me at the Ranger in ten minutes,” I add without answering.

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Fine, Soldier. Would you like fries with that order?” she mumbles sarcastically, and I gape at her.

“ Perfect execution , baby, well done,” I compliment with a grin.

“Tyler, I’m tired,” she whines. “Do we have to leave?”

“Yes. Nine minutes left now, General Whiney,” I chuckle. “Get moving.”

Climbing into her Ranger twenty minutes later , she turns and glimpses the haul I loaded in the back seat. “We’re camping tonight?”

“Possibly,” I mutter, “and just so we’re clear, you’re a nightmare when it comes to presents and surprises.” I turn the Ranger over to start it as her voice carries over it.

“I love you, best friend,” she drawls out as I turn to see her gazing back at me, a peaceful twinkle in her eyes. “And if I have to kick buckets, then I’m so glad it’s with you.”

I bite my lip and shake my head just as she shouts, making us both jump. “Bucket, it’s ‘kick the bucket!’” she corrects herself.

“This is... a pretty morbid start,” I sigh, “and not how I want this portion of our night to go.”

“So what,” she states. “Neither of us wants to talk about it, so let’s get it all out now and be done with it.

I never meant for you to find me like that.

I sent Zach away for the night and didn’t expect you home so early.

But I wasn’t expecting to redecorate the kitchen,” she whispers mournfully.

“Fuck it, I’m glad because it’s out there now.

I’m sad, you’re sad, we’re both mad, so let’s just say what we feel and truly be done.

” Her eyes widen with an idea. “But we’re going to say it really fast.”

“Why fast?” I ask.

“So that we reveal our most brash, most honest thoughts.”

“Fine,” I concede, “but the minute this Ranger stops, so does the conversation, deal?”

“Deal,” she says. I give the Ranger some gas as she speaks up first after a few seconds of the ride. “I’m scared it will hurt, and I don’t want to be in pain the whole time .”

“I’m scared you’ll be in pain too, so I’m going to make sure that’s not an issue,” I counter just as quickly while steering us onto the path.

“I’m scared you won’t find faith,” she says.

“I’m scared I won’t be strong for Zach,” I admit.

“I’m not scared about that at all, Tyler. I know you’ll be exactly what you’re supposed to be for him.”

“I’m glad you’re so confident,” I utter.

“I am.” She nudges me as I slow us down, knowing we need to get this out and the trek to our destination is a short one. “This is good, see?”

“I don’t share your enthusiasm, but go,” I tell her.

“Bury me close to my sister and nephew... and don’t pick an ugly casket. I’m scared you’ll pick an ugly casket.”

“Hey, I have good taste,” I defend hoarsely, hating this exchange with every fiber of my being. “But I promise I’ll buy the most expensive light blue Cadillac-quality casket available,” I clip, my eyes stinging.

“Soldier,” she whispers, sensing the pain this is causing me, and I shake my head.

“Keep going,” I demand. “I’ll deal.”

“Get him in school,” she orders as we roll over a divot in the trail.

We decided right away to let Zach skip this semester because of the legalities we haven’t gotten to yet and to acclimate him to us to see if it was where this was going.

Also, to protect me for serving time, because if I meet Tim right now, I’ll kill him. No question in my mind about that.

Along with therapy, and after the holidays, Mom is giving Zach an aptitude test she’s securing from a school counselor friend so we can see what we’re dealing with.

But before we get him back into population, Delphine and I decided we want Zach back in good health, which will give him some needed confidence and some added tools in dealing with the company he’s been forced to keep.

From what he’s told us, he loves school, but his classmates, not so much.

“What else?” I prompt, realizing we both went silent as the headlights beam ahead, lighting up our path, along with the added help of the three-quarter moon blazing above us.

A moon I’m thankful for, which helped cement the decision to bring her here tonight—timing everything, especially with us as emotional as we are.

“No internet,” she states firmly.

“That’s just not possible, baby. It’s consuming the world.”

“That’s a problem. Mark my words, Soldier, it is evil and will cause much destruction.”

“Sean would agree with you, but tell me why you think so,” I ask, taking a turn and slowing even further—our destination an easy four- to five-minute walk, at most, from the house.

“Because I finally got online when you gave me that stupid smartphone, putting my feelings aside to be objective.”

“And?” I prompt.

“And within minutes, I had watched a cat video, a cute baby video, an inspirational video full of beautiful images, before I watched a train crash into a car with people inside it, which killed them. Then I was exposed to another video where a suicidal soldier begged a cop for a hug.”

Her point strikes where intended, and I swallow as our eyes meet.

“All of that, that chaos, the beautiful mixed with the tragic, to the depraved, is a deity’s view, Tyler.

It’s a god’s view, not meant for us. We are not built for such exposure to things like this, capable of processing so many extremes in such a short time.

It’s already causing so much harm to young minds, who are now harming themselves.

While it is disguised as a good tool, I feel it’s evil and know it will do great harm. ”

“How about limited internet, monitored social media?” I barter.

“Limited internet, no social media until he’s graduated.”

“You just caused me hours of fighting with him,” I relent.

“I know, but please for me, Soldier. Please. Don’t expose him to that. Make him spend some time in the sun every day and form real relationships in person .”

“You love him,” I state as we take one last dip and round the bend of trees, and I stop just short of breaching them.

“You do, too,” she says, scanning our path.

“I’m starting to,” I admit before she takes a second look around.

“He’s special, Tyler, like you. There is far more to him that he is revealing... hey”—she frowns, realizing the path we’re on—“this was blocked before, with many, many large tree limbs.”

I flash her a grin. “I know.”

“You blocked me?”

“Oui,” I spout.

“So, we’re camping here?”

“No, we’re finishing this conversation here,” I state and turn to her. “I have something to say, but I’m not saying it fast.”

“Oh, no”—she licks her lips—“okay. Tell me.”

“The reason I’m not showing you my pain is because I decided the day I found out not to mourn you until you’re gone. Not to let your illness steal our happiness and peace. I don’t know how long I can make it last, but I want to try to hold onto it for as long as possible.”

“I agree, Soldier. I agree.”

“I was hoping you would, but it’s not my decision. We can do this any way you want.”

“I want it exactly the way you decided. It’s perfect”—she nods for emphasis—“it’s the perfect strategy.”

“Okay, and one more thing.” I swallow. “I know how much you love me, Delphine. I feel it and always have. Even when you fought so hard to conceal it, I felt it.” She nods, eyes watering. “Believe me, I know, okay?”

I can see the relief in her eyes as she scours the grounds, and the night noise surrounds us.

“But if you want to suck my cock exactly like you did this morning every day to prove your love, I will not object to any effort—” She slaps at my chest cutting me short, and we both laugh before I shrug. “You wanted brash .”

“Ha-ha.” She rolls her eyes. “Now, take me to camp,” she sighs, and I feel the weight of the conversation start to leave us, even as the ache lingers.

When I hit the gas, she clamps my arm. “Last thing,” she says, and I sigh and stomp the brakes, knowing I wasn’t going to get away with ending the discussion so easily.

“Please don’t mourn me. Please let me go when the time comes. I want you to live a full life. You are too young to limit yourself so much. Let me be and remain your first love, Tyler, not your only. Promise me.”

“I can’t promise that.” I shake my head. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

She stares at me for a long beat. “Fine, imbecile, but if you can’t promise me, then you have to give me one last wish.”

“Anything you want,” I swear.

“Anything?” she prompts.

“Anything,” I repeat with a nod.

“Hmm, then”—she sits back in her seat—“I’ll let you know.”

“I may have granted that too easily, and now I’m scared,” I chuckle, “are we done?”

“Yes... no, Ezekiel,” she whispers.

“I’ve got him,” I assure, “well, as much as anyone can have him.” I shake my head with a grin.

“I know.” She nods. “I know, Soldier... and”—she glances down at her ring—“I want you to know I would have planned the most ridiculous wedding for a forty-one-year-old kissing tramp,” she laughs.

The vision of her blowing out her candles not even a week ago re-stoking the relentless ache.

“I would have embarrassed you, Soldier.”

“Do it,” I dare. “Embarrass me.”

“No, that’s a gift I’m giving to your future wife.”

“Stop,” I grit out, “there is no after you.”

“Oh, but there is,” she assures with a smile, “have faith, my Soldier.” She palms my jaw. “Have faith.”

Deciding the conversation is pointless and futile, I pull her reassuring hand from my jaw, kissing it before tethering our fingers and holding them in my lap.

Pressing the gas, I steer us around a winding corner of clustered evergreens before pulling to a stop at the foot of the field.

Thankful when I see the moon doing my bidding as it casts a surreal glow over the endless acres of wildflowers.

She palms her mouth with both hands at the sight of them, and I gently lower them to take in her expression.

Having decided to save the reveal for a night just like this one, where we needed our spirits lifted.

A plan seemingly executed as her wide eyes glitter along the expanse of the valley, which is blanketed by every imaginable stem fit for the region.

Many of the blooms are already reaching knee height, and the flowers dance and sway with the sweep of the cool breeze filtering through as if summoning us both that it’s playtime.

Proud of my handiwork, but even more so by the wonder and shock in Delphine’s expression, she only furthers the zing in my chest when she turns to me, gasping out her familiar sentiment.

“Okay, Soldier, this is the best night of my life .”

A deep ache surfaces when, for the first time, I allow her sentiment to pass without my typical rebuttal. “Then it’ll be the best night of my life, too.”

Briefly, I allow the burn of that defeat to do its thing while turning on the Ranger’s radio before rounding it to stand at her door.

Hand extended as the soft music croons through the crisp night air, I finally utter the question I’ve been anticipating asking since I plowed and planted the field last fall. “General, can I have this dance?”