Page 34 of Beautifully Wounded

“Turn on the TV,” JD barks, not even waiting for Ringo to do it before he’s got the remote in hand and doing it himself.

Sitting taller on the bed, I lean to the side to see around Ringo’s broad shoulders as the voice of the Chief Medical Officer fills the room.

“Oh no. Not again,” I say quietly, and Ringo peers back to me before stepping aside so I can see the screen properly.

“Fuck’s sake,” he mutters as the words, five-day snap lockdown spoken by the Chief Medical Officer cause us all to stiffen.

I thought we were out of the woods. I thought there would be no more lockdowns, but here we are again, watching our government enforce restrictions to stop us from leaving our homes.

Last year, when we first went into lockdown, and I had to start remote learning to finish off my final year of secondary school, I was terrified, but I quickly realised that although it meant I was trapped in the house with my family, it also meant, I wasn’t exposed to Daniel. For a brief time, there was a shred of hope. Some peace.

By mid-year,though, my mum was concerned that Daniel and I being apart so much wasn’t good, and Daniel’s parents agreed, so they started breaking the rules.

When the August lockdown started, I was relieved. I looked forward to celebrating my eighteenth birthday at home, but Daniel came around. His family too, and we were forced to spend some time alone. Something about making sure our bond was maintained.

Bond? Seriously? What bond? There’s only ever been torment.

Watching the screen now, and the headlines in bold red font run across the bottom, I feel fear, but also relief.

At least I’m not back in Fox Pines, married to Daniel, trapped with him alone.

The thought sends a tremor up my spine.

“We were meant to go on a run this weekend,” JD mutters to Ringo as they both stand with their legs wide and arms crossed over their chests, watching the screen.

“Smitty will call church. Word Murf and Trunk up. We’ll need a team to get supplies. And ask Jols to tee up the Doxies to go to the store and get enough food.”

JD nods. “Will do. Anything else?”

“Remind the girls to go to different stores,” Ringo orders. “I’ll message Stoner and up the security at the warehouses.”

A few more quiet words are shared between them, and I find myself a little fascinated by what they are talking about.

Church. Doxies. Security at the warehouses.

I’m not sure what I thought an outlaw motorcycle club would be like, but I didn’t consider they’d run like a well-oiled machine. Even the conversationI overheard while I huddled in Ringo’s bathtub about buying property. It’s all business.

“What are you gonna do with Charity while church is on?” JD’s question has my ears pricking up, and I watch as they both glance over their shoulders at me.

“You go to church?” I ask, finding that hard to believe.

“What? Law breakers can’t worship God?” Ringo smirks, lifting a brow as he turns fully to face me.

“The Devil maybe,” I say with more confidence than I’ve had in days, and his smile grows, his white teeth making an appearance past his dark facial hair.

“You already know us so well.”

Chuckling, JD shoots me a wink. “I like her, Sarg. I think she’ll fit in here just fine.”

Even though JD is laughing, Ringo shoots him a glare.

“What? It’s true.”

“She doesn’t have to fit in here. She’s not staying,” Ringo snarls, and ouch, why do his words sting?

I don’t particularly want to stay here, but I kind of hate being dismissed so easily.

“Exactly,” I snap. “I’m not here to stay. In fact, I’m happy to leave right now.”

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