Page 84 of Fangs
My heart was pounding so fast, sending adrenaline surging through me. My body was responding to this conversation like I was about to fight Brimstone again. Movement caught my attention, and I saw Sam standing from where he had sat on the other side of Griz. He strode over and sat in Mac’s empty spot, his hand finding mine under the table and squeezing. His thin face was serious again.
“Emmy, c’mon,” he said softly.
“Sam—”
“I think it’s important,” he interrupted.
I stared at him, my heart in my throat.
“If it has to do with your health, it’s important,” Sable murmured.
Sam squeezed my hand again under the table, his expression expectant and encouraging.
“I’m makin’ a guess this is related to the starvation,” Sable added quietly.
My spine locked up. Had I said something about that? I honestly couldn’t remember everything I’d spit out in the clinic.
“There’s something called refeeding?—”
“I know,” I interrupted, my face heating even more. “And yes.”
I gripped Sam’s hand as though drowning, but he didn’t seem to mind. The table was silent for a moment. Apple wrapped herself around my arm.
“How often were you denied food?” Sable asked.
“I don’t know,” I mumbled. “Often.”
“For long periods?”
“Sometimes, yeah.”
“How long?”
I blinked furiously, determined to keep my wet eyes from overflowing. “Three weeks and two days was the longest.”
“Prolonged starvation can be devastating to a body,” Sable continued, his voice gentle. “Especially for a child.”
I pressed my trembling lips together.
“Do you feel like your body still suffers from the refeeding syndrome?” Sable asked after a short silence. “From what I know, it shouldn’t be permanent.”
“I don’t know,” I continued, speaking to my empty plate. “If I go t-too long without eating, I get anxious… I’ll get sick if I eat, and then I get sick because I’m anxious.”
“Why do you get anxious about being sick?”
I wasn’t going to answer, but the sharp words escaped. “Well, when you get fuckin’ beat for puking, you learn to be anxious about it.”
Wolf abruptly stood, and I jumped, my gaze shooting to his face. His eyes flashed, but he simply turned and stalked out of the canteen. His crew exchanged silent looks before Scar and Lee got up and followed him.
“If he puts another hole in the wall, he’s fixin’ it,” Sam said.
“What?” I asked, my stomach clenching.
“He punched through the wall earlier,” Sam explained matter-of-factly as though that were normal.
“He’ll fix it,” Tuck spoke up.
“He punched through the wall?” I repeated, bewildered.
