Page 60 of Beautifully Wounded

“Fine. What do I have to eat?” I ask, glancing over my shoulder at the table packed with an array of salads, barbequed meat, and bread rolls.

To try to get me to come out of my depression coma, Ringo had offered me his phone, telling me he’d downloaded the app that Lexi had been using to contact my little sister. That was the only thing that sparked an interest in me at the time, but then he’d gone and tried to blackmail me into eating something first if I wanted to use it, so I sunk back into my comatosed state preferring the numbness I felt there.

“Let’s get you a plate,” Ringo states, standing from his chair, his towering height dwarfing me as he passes by.

I follow, watching as he puts a sausage, some salad and a bread roll on the plate before holding it out for me.

My stomach roils.

“That’s too much.”

He shakes the plate. “Nope. It’s hardly anything. Just try.”

My eyes meet his, mine pleading, his unwavering.

“You have to eat, Charity.”

“I’ll eat if you stop calling me that,” I whisper snap, and one corner of his lip twitches.

“Never. Now fucking eat, or no phone.”

I roll my eyes and snatch the plate from his grip. “Anyone ever tell you, you’re an arsehole?”

This time, his smirk shows. “Every fucking day.” He gestures to the chair he was sitting in, so I move to it and take it, ignoring JD staring at me on one side, and Jols on the other.

Did he tell them what he overheard on the phone?

Do they all know now?

Heat flushes my cheeks at the thought. I hate people knowing my business. Mainly because I feel so ashamed. It’s embarrassing. No one understands why a mum would do that to her daughter. Even I don’t understand why either, other than I bring shame on the family.

Balancing my plate on my lap, I start picking at the food. I suck in a deep breath when the nausea hits again, but will it away so I can handle a little sustenance.

“Hey kid. When’s the last time you took a shower?” JD’s question has me snapping my head in his direction, and Jols scoffs.

“Leave her alone, JD. She’s had a tough couple of days. Showering would be the last thing on her mind.”

Shit.

Ringo must have told them.

I have no idea to what extent, but just knowing they know something has my emotions reappearing.

I stand quickly, nearly losing the food on my plate, but Ringo leaps forward and catches it before it’s too late.

“What are you doing?” he asks, his presence looming, yet I don’t look up to meet his eyes.

“Going to shower,”I say quietly.

“Ouch,” JD mutters behind me after a loud slap fills the air. “What the fuck was that for?”

“Just the fact you asked that means you deserved that slap,” Jols snaps, but I don’t hang around to hear anything else, hightailing it back to Ringo’s room.

Hurrying inside, I go to close the door behind me, but Ringo is right there, my plate in hand, following.

“Eat first. You’re withering away. You’ll never get strong and healthy if you don’t give your body what it needs.”

I still at his words, knowing he’s right.

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