by Sarah Noffke
“No,” I say simply. “Because we always have tomorrow to change. To evolve.”
“You think one day you might like me, maybe even care about me?” she says, and for once there’s not that hope accompanying the question.
“I think one day we might actually be able to express ourselves and our feelings better than we do now. But you have to come back to find out. You have to give your son a chance to bond with you. We all have to give each other a second chance,” I say, thinking of my mum and her words and how right she always was.
“What if it doesn’t work? What if he doesn’t love me? Resents me?” she says.
I shrug. “That’s life. We screw up. We break each other’s hearts. We break our own hearts. And then we change.”
A small, tender smile forms on her mouth. “I’m glad you’re my dad.”
Chapter Thirty
“Because God hates me I’ve had the displeasure of hiring my replacement as Head Strategist,” I say to the room of agents, all gathered around the large conference room table. “Forty mostly worthless candidates have been wasting my time with insufficient answers during the interview process. They’ve also offered wrong solutions to the hypothetical problems I’ve posed.”
Before, Trey hired the other Head Strategists who tried to replaced me. And that’s exactly why they were all worthless and horrid matches for the position. He had no idea what he was doing, as is usually the case. “Although the person I’ve chosen to replace me has only half of my skills and isn’t nearly as adept at strategy, I still picked them to be my successor,” I say to the blank faces in front of me. “They will probably make a lot of errors and not just in their first year but for the next dozen or so to come. It is not advisable to expect them to lead you in the brilliant way that I have. Nor should you hold them to the standards I’ve set with my success records. I think you’re best to set expectations low as far as department performance goes. However, I admit that out of the pool this person is the best fit and will have mild success.”
A hand at the back of the room rises. It’s the boy with a bad choice in hairstyles and a nose ring. Facial piercings should be outlawed, along with jingle bell earrings, T-shirts, and bumper stickers.
“What is it, Cardinal?” I say.
“My name is Raven, sir,” he says with a smirk. “And I thought I’d ask what everyone wants to know, why are you resigning as Head Strategist, sir?”
“Aside from the fact that looking at all of your dumb faces every day makes me want to travel back in time and off your ugly parents before they created a troll?” I say in one long sentence, no pauses.
“Yeah, besides that reason,” he says with a chuckle.
I let out a tired sigh. I have another clever retort ready but instead I say, “I have other matters that deserve my attention. I’ve been Head Strategist for twenty years now. And it’s a role I never expected to have and have never regretted taking. But it has owned my time. The person who fills my position should realize they’ll have to give up playing board games and knitting,” I say, my eyes connecting with a guy in the middle of the table. “A successful Head Strategist has no life/work balance. That’s not an option. For twenty years I never took a day off. People don’t take a break from trying to screw up this world and neither can this department. The cases never stop rolling in and your leader has to make decisions every day that influence you and therefore our world at large.” I run my hands through my hair, hesitation twisting in my throat.
Raven raises his hand again.
“What is it, Canary?” I say.
He smiles, showing his crooked teeth. “So you’re going to get a life. That’s what it sounds like, sir.”
“There’s a reason you didn’t get my position and it’s not just because you have bad teeth,” I say to the young agent. “You’re also incredibly illogical. I’ve had a life before and now I want to take a bit of time to try and see if it’s possible to enjoy it.”
“Are you and Dahlia getting married?” he says, sounding amused.
“Fuck no. We like each other,” I say.
“I heard she was pregnant,” Raven says.
“I heard you have STDs,” I say.
“Yeah, rumors are dumb. You shouldn’t believe them,” he says, still laughing.
“If there are no other questions then I’d like to announce—”
Raven’s hand rises again, cutting me off. “I have one more thing to say, sir.”
“Of course you bloody do. Go on then,” I say.
“I just wanted to say what we all are thinking,” he says.
“I didn’t realize you were the voice for all the tiny brains in the room,” I say.
“Well, I am telepathic so…”
“Get on with it, Finch,” I say.
“Well, we respect you,” he begins and then clears his throat, maybe losing a bit of confidence. “I know from sneaking into everyone’s thoughts that there’s no better position in the Institute than being an agent for this department. And working for you we’ve all been humbled. You don’t want to hear this and that’s why I’m absolutely going to say it. You, Ren, are fucking legendary.”
I lower my chin and look at Raven like I’m seriously disappointed in him. “And here I thought you were a) going to string together well-constructed sentences and b) tell me things I didn’t already know.”
“You are welcome,” he chirps and then winks.
“Well, without further ado it is my obligation to announce that your new Head Strategist is the incompetent Trent Reynolds,” I say, holding an arm out to my successor.
The young man who has telekinesis and also aced the interview process stands. I hired him even though he wears his hair in dreadlocks like a buffoon. He’s also Trey’s son-in-law since he and Joseph were married last week. I like creating a bit of rumor around this place. Now everyone will think that it’s nepotism running the Institute. It’s actually true though. Superior genetics is a thing. Greatness runs in families. Because it is bred amongst brilliant minds.
Trent holds his hands up over his head and like the unmannered clown that he is he says, “Fuck yeah, bitches. I’m your new boss.”
I wave my hand at the front. “The department is all yours to run into the bloody ground.” Then I stroll for the empty seat on the other side of the table. I lean back in the chair as Trent takes my former place.
“So what are you going to do now, Ren?” Raven asks.
I thread my hands behind my head and prop my shoes on the table in front of me, putting them on the girl’s notebook beside me.
“I’m going to be a part-time agent working only level-five cases,” I say, enjoying the plan already.
Chapter Thirty-One
“Are you sure about this, Ren?” my pops says, refolding a shirt and laying it in a dresser drawer.
“Of course I am,” I say.
“Well, you can change your mind,” he says.
“Do you want me to change my mind?” I say, a mock heat in my voice.
“No, not at all. I was just surprised by the offer.”
“Well, Pops, I know you prefer not to dream travel and I also know how important it is for you to spend time with Adelaide and Lucien.”
“I treasure them. I really do. But of all people I love spending my time with most, it’s you, son,” he says, his eyes lighting up as he smiles. “You won’t ever love anyone more than your child.”
“Yeah,” I say, my voice gruff without my permission. “You need any more help unpacking?” I eye the room he’s moved into on the south wing of our house. He organized it pretty quickly. Excitement will do that.
“No, son. I’m good. I might lie down and take a nap, but I’ll see you downstairs for dinner later.”
“You know dream travel is much more restorative than sleep,” I say.
“And you know that I love the beauty and mystery my dreams serve up,” he says.
“I know that you’re a stubborn old man who’s never going to chang
e.”
“Nor would you want me to,” he says and I offer him a slight smile as I leave.
***
I find Dahlia in the den reading a magazine that has her face plastered across the front.
“You really are fucking obsessed with yourself, aren’t you?” I say, taking the seat next to her on the couch and kicking off my loafers.
“Well, there’s not a better person out there so what’s not to be obsessed with?” she says.
“I guess. You’ve got a tight ass. I’ll give you that,” I say, hooking an arm around her shoulder.
“How’s your dad settling in?”
“Like liquid in a glass,” I say.
“Yes, and whatever you said to Adelaide seems to have had a good effect,” she says, pointing to the bank of floor to ceiling windows. Out in the yard Adelaide has an easel set up and is painting on a canvas. Strapped to her front in a carrier is Lucien and he appears to be asleep. Quiet. Content.
“I just told her that being a monster wasn’t such a bad thing,” I say.
“I think you told her more than just that,” Dahlia says.
Adelaide pauses. Tilts her head to regard the painting from another angle. Then she looks down at the baby strapped on her front and tucks her chin and plants a soft kiss on his red head.
“You know I never thought of you as a monster,” Dahlia says.
I slide down and lay my head in her lap, stretching out my long legs on the leather sofa.
“Oh no?” I say.
“No,” she says in a soft voice. “Unique. Brilliant. An incredible jerk. But not a monster.”
“Well, maybe this is just a discussion of semantics,” I say.
“Maybe,” she says, sliding her fingers through my hair, pure adoration on her face. “All I know is that loving you is better than all the fame and riches in the world. I’d give it all up for you. I’d do anything for you, Ren Lewis.”
I catch her hand in mine. “Well, lucky for you, you don’t have to give up anything. You, dear Dahlia, get to have it all. You get your riches, your fame, and me.” And then I press her hand to my lips.
And strangely, I somehow managed to do that too. After a lifetime of treachery God decided to forgive me. In the end, I somehow managed to have it all.
Epilogue
Change is by far the scariest thing a human will ever face. We go to great lengths to avoid it. The idea of not having our usual ways or to be the same person we were yesterday isn’t intimidating, it’s fucking terrifying. But evolution is the only way for a bunch of beasts cursed with a heart and desires to survive. It’s through experience that we grow and therefore change is impossible to avoid.
But Churchill was wrong. He said, “To improve is to change; to be perfect is to change often.”
But reaching for perfection would only seek to destroy us. There are no perfect homes, or families, or people. We are all flawed. Beautifully and ultimately flawed. And it is this imperfection that pushes us every day to find the only thing worth fighting for. Love. That’s why we’re here. That’s why we suffer. That’s why any of this bloody matters.
I’m Ren Lewis and I’m not perfect. Thank fucking God.
The End
Author’s Note
Writing Ren Lewis’s story hasn’t been easy, but it was a story I felt had to be told. I know this man in a way that I’ve never understood another character. Love him or hate him, but the truth is that he’s probably more me than any character I’ve ever written. And yet, he’s very much an enigma to me. I’m not British, nor male, nor an unsympathetic jerk. But I kind of want to be on some days.
Important note, I’m a YA author usually so being uncensored was a rare experience for me. Apparently, I had too much fun with it and really embraced my dark side. In the first book Ren uses the f-bomb twenty-four times. In the second book, he uses it eighty-eight times. And in this book, he drops that bomb one hundred and forty-nine times. Which to me felt wrong and like it really should have been an even one-hundred and fifty times.
And as the creator and keeper of Ren I wanted him to offer you one last farewell. So I’ll turn this over to him now.
Ren: “What an honor you’ve been given to read my life story. I promise you I’ll go on to do many incredible things. I’ve not enjoyed my time working with Sarah, having her recording my life. But I’ve done it, because it is a tiny hope that you all will learn how to be less shitty after hearing about my journey. Maybe, just maybe, you’ll do something with your pathetic lives. I doubt it but one could hope. Anyway, if anything you’re a little less repulsive of a person after hearing of the awesomeness that you could be. And I realize I’ve set expectations which are unobtainable for you lowly Middlings to reach. But do try. Or just fuck off and see if I care. Cheerio, love.”
Thanks for putting up with Ren.
Sincerely,
Sarah Noffke
Acknowledgements
Nine books this man has invaded. Ren Lewis. We love him. We hate him. And secretly I kind of think I am him. Wait, not such a secret anymore, huh? Anyway, this series is the direct result of amazing readers. Ones who demanded more of this man’s story. Ones who wrote me countless messages expressing their love for this sociopath. My first thank you goes to the readers. There wouldn’t be a Ren series if it weren’t for you. And then I would be so empty because writing these books has been amazingly fulfilling. So thank you!
Audiobooks are really important to many of my readers. I have some with health problems and audiobooks make it easier for them to read. And it’s important to me that I offer my books in ways that are suitable for readers. But audiobook production comes at a cost. And I want to thank the many funders who backed my kickstarter for Ren, book two and three. I was blown away by the generosity of so many people. And I’m grateful that I have so many of you who believe in the project. Thank you to Angel, Anne, Alicia, Katy, Jennifer L, Jennifer W, Jennifer S. Tim, Jon, Don, Paul, JN, Clint, Cheryl, Kimberly, Erin, Jessica, Heidi, Lisa, and all the readers who shared and promoted the kickstarter.
Thank you to my notches, Stephanie, Jessica and Colleen. You three keep me sane, or at least make me feel like my crazy isn’t that bad. Thanks for allowing me to bounce ideas off you. Thanks for the support and encouragement. Thanks for the help with the marathon group. And thanks for being awesome.
Thank you to my street team for promoting my books, supporting my projects, being there in so many different ways. I really depend on your awesomeness. Thanks to Kathy for pretty much running it all of her own. You rock.
Thank you to Colleen, my first chair. You. Are. Fantastic. Best beta reader a girl could ask for. My first eyes on the script and the person who helps me make the most changes.
Thank you to my beta readers Heidi, Melinda, Anne and Kelly. You three offer so many insights into how to make my books better. And you’re fun gals who I love sharing with.
Thank you to Anne for checking the British vernacular of this book. Thank you for also being a great supporter and lovely person.
Thank you to my friends. You all bring me so much joy. I’m blown away by the amount of awesome people in my life.
Thank you to my fan group on Goodreads. It’s growing and we’re having a ton of fun together. I’m so glad that Dominic started that group and continues to make it awesome.
Thank you to my fellow authors who cheer for me and fight over Ren. I’m not sure at which point I should tell you he isn’t real.
Thank you to BOD. To Katy and Jennifer for giving so much of your time and effort to making the parties great! I love this group and really don’t know where I’d be without those authors and readers.
Thank you to Ren. I know I just got finished saying you aren’t real, but I don’t really believe that. I know you too well, sense things about you. You have invaded my dreams and my head and made me laugh more than any character ever. Finishing this series has felt horribly strange, like I was being forced to part ways with a piece of myself. Forever and ever I
want you in my head, spewing your snarky remarks. Thanks for gracing my pages, and spreading your uncheer.
Thank you to my family. You all are amazingly supportive of my career and my books. I realize I’m the eccentric in the clan, and I’m happy to play that role.
Thank you to my daughter. You are forever my muse. The reason I started writing. The reason I keep writing. One day these books will be your legacy and I hope they make you proud…and pay for your college education.
Thank you to everyone!
Love,
Sarah Noffke
One-Twenty-Six Press.
Ren: The Monster’s Adventure
Sarah Noffke
Copyright © 2016 by Sarah Noffke
All rights reserved
Copyeditor: Christine LePorte
Cover Design: Andrei Bat
All rights reserved. This was self-published by Sarah Noffke under One-Twenty-Six Press. No parts of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. If you are seeking permission send inquiry at http: www.sarahnoffke.com