Page 132 of Beautifully Wounded

Yesterday was a lot. Almost too much, but the moment Ringo was back by my side, it was like a switch was flipped inside me and the trauma was more bearable.

We went to sleep facing each other last night, and today since the compound has been quieter than usual with some men and Doxies leaving now that lockdown has lifted, while those that remain have huddled together like they are planning something, Ringo and I stayed hidden away, taking the day to just breathe.

“Talk to me about your sister and Lexi. What news do you have from home?” Ringo asks, shifting to slip his hands behind his head on his pillow as he looks up at me.

“Well, Tahli said the police have been by a few times, but it was only to say they hadn’t found me yet. She did say that when they were at Monday night’s mass a couple of police officers attended and she and Maggie were told to stay seated while they talked quietly with my parents and Minister Banes across the room.”

Ringo’s brows shoot up. “Interesting. Tell me about Minister Banes.”

I frown. “Why?”

“Because I want to learn about this so-called church your family attends. How long has Banes been the minister there?”

“Umm, not long, actually. The other ministers were brothers, and they were killed when the old chapel burned down at the end of last year, but then Minister Banes turned up and took over like he’d been there the whole time, moving the congregation to a new location.”

Ringo’s eyes squint a little like he’s deep in thought before they lock with mine again.

“What’s different about that place compared to the old church you grew up attending? Like did they do anything differently besides read different Scripture?”

“Well, yeah. Confession is a lot different.”

His brows shoot high.

“How so?” He shifts, sitting up on the bed next to me, and now instead of looking down at him, I have to look up.

“Men’s confessions were group confessions. They’d all go into a room with Minister Banes for a while and then come back out. I asked Dad one time what happens in there and he just said confession, so I really have no idea.”

“And the women?” Ringo asks, “Did they do the same thing?”

I shake my head. “No, when it was time for women to confess, the men would remain in the pews, and the women were escorted out of the main room, and led back in individually to confess before all of the males.”

“The fuck. Did you have to do that?”

My gaze lands on my lap as my cheeks heat, and I nod. “Every time I did something wrong in my mum’s eyes, I had to confess before the men. Even if I tried to downplay it or lie, the minister always knew the story from my mum and would call me out.”

“Hey,” Ringo whispers, his finger hooking under my chin to turn my head back up to him. “You know how wrong that is that they did that, right? That’s not the way it should be.”

I nod, letting my gaze fall to his lips momentarily to help keep me from crying.

“Was your dad there when you had to confess?”

“Yes,” I whisper.

“Daniel? His dad?” Ringo asks, and I nod. “How revealing were the confessions?”

I shake my head, not wanting to think about that, and try to pull away, but Ringo’s big hand slides over my shoulders and presses me into his side.

It’s not rough. His touch is kind of gentle, but it’s enough to tell me he’s not letting me get away.

“Nearly every detail about the particular infraction was discussed,” I admit.

“So when you were sprung by your mum having sex with that fuckwit, you had to stand before all the men, your dad included, and describe the sex act you did?”

“Kneel.” I blurt and Ringo frowns. “We were made to kneel before the men.”

His jaw ticks, and his grip on my shoulder tightens as he holds me to him.

“I’m going to kill them all, Angel.”

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