The Sinners - Ruby Vincent Page 0,39
opened up beneath us.
“Wow,” I breathed. “You can say a lot about our craphole town, but nothing against its namesake.”
Raven River was a stretch of clear rushing water. It teemed with life that zipped away from kicking feet and splashing fists. I learned to swim in the river, held by my dad as I stuck my head in the water searching for fish. I carried only happy memories of lying on the bank, toes lapped by the waves and soaking the sun beating through the trees. Clay brought me here to make another one.
A blanket was laid out on the bank. Lamplights covered the corners and the river reached for it, lapping at the earth like it once did my wrinkled feet.
I kicked off my shoes, dropping down on the blanket with Clay. We stretched out, me on top of him, propping my chin on his chest and my hips on his.
“This is incredible, Clay.”
He pointed to the tree nearest us. The roots rose high out of the ground. “That’s where I sit. Just come out and do homework. Read. Dry off after a swim. It’s a different kind of quiet out here. Know what I mean?”
A different kind of quiet.
The forest was far from quiet. The river babbled its retreat to the oceans. Fish splashed leaping in and out of the water. Birds cheeped in the trees. Raccoons chittered. Squirrels scurried. Foxes slipped through the bush. Those sounds melded together to sing a soothing symphony of life and grant you the peace you’d never achieve among honking horns and loud neighbors. It was—
“A different kind of quiet,” I said softly. “I know exactly what you mean.”
“Someone honestly would clean up building a resort in this place,” Clay reflected. “There’s something about it.”
“There’s something about it being untouched. You can find little spots like this and claim it for your own. We won’t have that anymore if tourists discover this place. I was swimming along the bank the first time I saw a baby fox. He didn’t know to be scared. Didn’t know there were parts of the forest he had to steer clear of.”
“Camila freaked out the first time she saw a fox. Screamed and pushed Dad off the dock.”
“What?” I laughed. “Did she blame him?”
His chuckles shook my body. “The last part was an accident. She ran, jumped on him, and knocked him off balance. They both went down and Mom snapped that bug-eyed surprise just before they hit water.”
“Your mom?” I scooted up, pressing my nose on his. “You never talk about your mom.”
“You never talk about yours.”
I clicked my tongue. “You triplets are forever catching me out.”
Clay dropped little kisses on my pouting lips. “Absent moms are a tough topic for anyone. No one can mess us up quite like they can.”
“Therapist bank second homes and yachts just on mommy issues.”
We cracked up on what had to be the least funny issue ever. All the same we couldn’t stop.
“My school counselor walked away with complexes of her own after dealing with me,” I said. “I get the added gift of looking just like Mom. I start every day seeing her in the mirror, wondering where she is and if she spares a second of her day thinking about me.”
“She does,” Clay said, assured like he spoke to her himself. “You’re not the kind of girl that can be forgotten.”
I kissed him longer, slower, deeper.
We weren’t doing anything above a PG rating. Clay folded his hands behind his head, mine were above the waist, and our clothes were neat and buttoned. Somehow, here with Clay in his tucked-away spot, was one of the most intimate moments of my life. I felt myself growing closer to him.
“Your mom thinks of you too.”
“I know she does,” he replied. “She tells Cas all the time she wishes our lives were different.”
“Tells Cas?” I lifted my head. “What do you mean?”
Clay gazed high above the trees. “He can’t resist seeing her when he goes to the clinic.”
“You mean you—”
“Know where she is,” he finished. “Yep. She left home but couldn’t get far out of town without money. We didn’t know how to find her when we were little, but by now we know her favorite shelters and the friends that let her crash on their couch. Cas checks on her, gives her money, and talks her into coming home sometimes. She doesn’t stay long but Dad is always happy to see her.”
I smoothed out the stiff lines around his eyes. Clay