Page 43 of Hell of a Mess
Jayda had prepared me for the fact that Gathe Bowen was waiting to meet me in the kitchen. She also said he talked too much and might ask things I didn’t want to talk about. If so, I was to tell him that. He was easygoing and full of himself. At least, that was her description. She’d also said he was nothing like Locke. The two were very different. While Locke looked more like Mal, Gathe took after his mother in appearance. It seemed I did, too, but then I’d been seeing my mother in the mirror for years now. My face was almost identical to the one I remembered smiling at me.
When I followed her into the kitchen, instant relief, along with a fluttering in my stomach, came with the sight of Luther sitting at the end of the long table. Maui was sitting happily at his feet, slapping his tail against the hardwood. It was a struggle not to openly stare at the sight the two of them made. But I managed toshift my attention to the other man at the table.
Blond. Very blond. He reminded me of a surfer.
His lips tugged up into a smile, and he stood up.
“Good morning,” he said with a thick Southern drawl that didn’t fit the surfer-boy image. “I’m Gathe,” he told me. “But I imagine Jayda already filled you in on that.”
“And warned her that you have no filter and can’t shut up,” Jayda piped in before motioning for me to take a seat at the table. “I’ll bring you something to eat.”
Eat. What was she going to bring me to eat? I tensed and looked over at the stove and the food she’d prepared. There were no boiled eggs and wheat toast. No berries. My heart rate instantly shot up. I couldn’t eat that. Every meal she had given me I’d struggled to eat even a few bites. I hadn’t understood why until now. My memory was back.
“What’s wrong?” Luther’s voice seemed to slow my mounting panic as my focus swung to him.
“I…” What did I say? How did I explain?
He pushed back his chair and stood up, his eyes never leaving my face. “Lace,” he said, and again, there was a moment of ease with it.
“I-I-I’m not supposed to eat,” I stammered out, even while knowing that I wasn’t at my father’s house.
He wasn’t here to see what I ate. I wasn’t going back.
“Do you have food allergies?” he asked, moving closer to me.
I shook my head, although perhaps I should have lied. It would make me seem less crazy.
“Then tell me why you can’t eat,” he said sternly.
“Luther, you’re scaring her,” Jayda told him.
He shook his head, not taking his eyes off me. “No, she was already scared.” When he reached me, he took my chin between his thumb and forefinger and narrowed his eyes as he studied me. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
I swallowed, wishing I hadn’t left the room. I was safe there. No questions to answer. No darkness to hide.
“I can’t gain weight,” I whispered.
“You fucking need to gain weight,” he said angrily. “Do you have an eating disorder?”
I started to say no, but maybe I did. One that had been forced upon me.
“This is why you couldn’t eat the cupcake, isn’t it?” Realization dawned on his face.
I said nothing.
“Lace”—my name sounded like a warning—“tell me what this is about. You can see yourself in the goddamn mirror. You know that you’re too thin.”
Was I? I’d always been criticized. First by my father—Alpheus—and then Arun.
Closing my eyes, I forced out the truth. I didn’t want to lie to him. Anyone but him. All he’d done was help me. “If I gain weight, I am punished.” And I had been since the day I’d been forced to become my sister. “She was perfect before. I have to be perfect too.”
The room was silent, and it was deafening. My eyes stayed tightly shut. I’d told someone. It was only a small piece of the horror that I’d lived, but it was still something I’d never shared.
“Who punished you?” The coldness in Luther’s tone made me shiver.
“My—” I stopped. No, that wasn’t who he was. “Al-Alpheus.”
“Motherfucker,” Luther hissed as he let go of my chin.
