Page 35 of Beautifully Wounded

I don’t know why I say that, or why Ringo turns his glare to me, but JD still chuckles and excuses himself, leaving me and Ringo glaring at each other.

“Someone has more sass today.”

I nod at Ringo’s words. “I’m feeling more myself.”

His eyes narrow. “You still look pale.”

“Way to make a girl feel pretty.”

He smirks. “Even pale, you still look pretty, Angel.”

Oh.

My gaze darts down to the bed as my cheeks heat, and I know he’s only trying to get a rise out of me. A reaction to stir me up. He doesn’t actually think I’m attractive, yet here I am, acting like an inexperienced teenager that clings on to any compliment I can get.

Stop being pathetic, Abbey.

“This snap lockdown is going to extend your stay here. Sorry,” he mutters, moving to the bathroom, and a moment later, I hear the shower turn on.

I glance at the door separating me from the outside world. It’s locked, but Ringo didn’t shift the couch back into place, and I could so easily sneak out while he’s in the shower.

I should go. Try to run. Try to escape.

But where would I go?

I’m somewhere in metro Melbourne. Depending on which side of the city I’m in, I could be up to three hours drive away from Timber Valley. I have no friends. My Gran used to live near the city, but even her house had been sold as soon as Mum moved her into the home.

What do people like me do? Go to shelters? Do they still have them during lockdown? They’d have to, right?

I wouldn’t even know where a shelter is. I have no idea where I am. I don’t have a phone, my ID, or any bank cards to get cash out. Not that I would. Ringo was right about that. My parents would have gone to the police by now, and if I used my card to get money out, the police would know.

Standing from the bed, I walk towards the door, but I don’t get too close. I just stare at it, wondering what would happen if I open it and step out.

“Youplanning your getaway?”

I spin, my hand pressing to my chest as I gasp, only to find Ringo a few feet away, beads of water trickling down his bare chest, with the only thing covering him, a grey towel.

I shake my head quickly, my eyes glued to his bronzed skin, travelling over his broad chest, his pecs, and his nipples. His tattoos continue down his chest onto his abdomen, and there’s a thin trail of dark hair leading from his navel and disappearing under the towel.

“Eyes up,” he demands, and I snap my gaze to his. “Out that door is the rest of my MC. If they see you here, in their home, they will assume you are here for a reason.” He leans in closer. “To party. With them. Do you need me to explain how they like to party?”

“No.” I shake my head, remembering what I saw earlier.

“So you understand why stepping out that door is not in your best interest right now?”

“Yes. I wasn’t going to, I was just…” I trail off.

What was I doing? Was I considering leaving? Yes. Would I have tried? No. Because I’m too scared. Too weak.

“I have to go out for a bit. Can I trust that you will stay put, or do I have to arrange a babysitter for you?”

“I’ll stay put,” I admit, eyeing his phone on the counter behind him. “Can I use your phone?”

His brows hitch. “Who are you going to call? Your mum?”

His teasing words sting a bit and I shoot him a glare.

“Yeah sure. I’m going to call her and tell her how well my kidnappers are treating me.”

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