Joanne draws herself up. “The meals here are made specifically for her nutritional needs. It’s important for her development.”
None of us say anything as we watch Kenny sniff the plate of dry, bland-looking food. Her lip curls, and she shoves it back onto the tray.
“Well, she’s not eatingthat.” I point out the obvious. “Probably because she can’t tell what it is. May as well let us give her something and see if she’ll take it.”
“It’ll need to go to—,”
Fuck the fucking board.“You want to wait anotherfour days?”
“Go,” Oscar says tightly. “We’ll sort it out, Jake.”
***
Kenny watches me closely as I pull cartons out of the bag, using the bed frame as a table. “Hey, Ken. Want to come and have some of this? I brought your favourites.”
I keep my eyes on the food, waiting. Grabbing a plate, I flick the cartons open and add a few options. “Got some pasta here. I just made it for you. Or some chicken.”
A small hand creeps into my line of sight, before she pulls away, claws curling back.
I look up. She’s standing opposite me, her arms wrapped around her stomach. Forlorn.
I almost reach for her before I stop myself.
“Sit by here.” I tap my hand on the bed gently. “Let’s try some of this, shall we?”
I set the plate down, giving her plenty of space.
When she doesn’t move, her scarlet eyes lifting to mine, I feel my brows scrunch. “Please, baby. You need to eat something, okay? You’re scaring us a little, love. We need you to eat something. Please.”
Leaning forward, I take a small bite and swallow it down. “See? S’good. There’s nothing else in here.”
When I look up again, she’s leaning forward, her mouth slightly open.
I wind the fork around the pasta, careful not to add too much before lifting it, cupping my hands underneath as I hold it up.
Her lips wrap around the tines, pulling back and taking the pasta. But she doesn’t swallow, and panic claws up my insides. Desperation scores my words. “Ken – whatever it is, baby, I’ll fix it, okay? I just need you to eat a little bit for us.”
When she starts to chew, my whole body nearly wobbles with relief. “That’s it. Good girl.”
She eyes me and looks at the bed. Again.
“What…,” I look between her and the empty space, trying to understand. “You want me to sit down?”
Making a space, I climb on, settling against the railing at the back. “How’s that—,”
She scrambles forward, onto my lap, and my body locks up. “Ken?”
I wait until she settles, curled up against me. And then I work my arms around her, twirling some more pasta and holding it up in question.
She takes it. And more. Small bites, until the plate is empty. Kenny looks between me and the door, her brows creasing slightly.
“I’m not going.” I say softly. “I’m staying here, okay?”
She settles against me, her cheek to my chest. My palm runs in gentle strokes down her arm. Her back. Her scars feel raised beneath my touch, and I press my lips together as I take them in.
No longer bleeding. But they’ll never fade. My mate will be forever marked with the jagged scars of Brett’s attack.
Inside and out.
