Beneath Your Beautiful

“Ok.” She smiles at me and there’s nothing in the world I wouldn’t do to put that smile on her face every day for the rest of my life.

“What can I make you?”

“Hmmm,” she thinks about it for a minute and then replies, “An omelet.”

My eyebrows rise. “For dinner?” I ask incredulously.

“It’s not dinner time.” She looks at the clock. It reads six pm. “Oh, it is dinner time,” she pauses, “And I want an omelet.”

I sigh. “Ok fine, and omelet it is.”

The smile is back on her face. She slides her hand behind my neck and pulls me in until our mouths are barely separated. “I’m starving,” she whispers. I close the space between us and press my lips to hers.

I groan. “You’re trying to kill me woman.”

Grinning wickedly, she jumps of the counter and I slap her butt. She walks down the hallway and shimmies her hips for my benefit, a light laughter trailing behind her.

“Minx,” I mutter under my breath.

I get to work on making us omelets, cutting up some peppers, mushrooms and grating some cheese as I go. I add the egg whites to a bowl and start whisking it until its light and foamy. I add some spices and herbs that I know will make it taste delicious.

“Grayson.”

I spin around and see Huntley standing at the mouth of the hallway. She has my phone in her hand and she looks pale.

“What’s wrong?” My voice is thick with concern. The girl who left the kitchen less than fifteen minutes ago is not the girl standing here now.

“Brody called,” she whispers, her voice shaking. “I answered your phone.”

I swallow hard. “What did he say?”

The tears fall down her face and I walk over to her. I wipe the tears off her cheeks and gently ask again, “What did he say baby?”

“It’s Demi. They’re at your house and he said we need to go. Now.”

Demi?

Huntley must see the confusion on my face because she continues, “She’s been…hurt. Tommy, he…” A sob escapes her mouth and I wrap my arms around her. She feels so much smaller when she’s this upset. Panic sets in and I worry about what might’ve happened to Demi. We’ve been friends forever and the thought of her being hurt pulls at my heart.

“Ok,” I coo, “We’ll go now.”

We dress in silence, our food forgotten. Within thirty minutes we stop outside my house and Huntley is out the door and running up the stairs before I can stop her.

A bad feeling settles in the pit of my stomach.

I walk through the front door, which has clearly been busted open, and stop when I see that the living room is completely trashed. Brody is sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. He looks up and his face is red and wet from crying. I’m momentarily shocked. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen him cry.

“What happened?” I take a seat next to him on the couch.

While I wait for him respond, I mentally take in all the damage around me. Our bar chairs are all smashed, the pieces lying all over the floor. The cushions are strewn everywhere, like there was a scuffle of some kind. The place is a complete mess and judging by Brody’s cut brow and swelling eye, there must’ve been a fight.

“It was Tommy,” he replies. His voice is shaking and he clenches his fists. “He came looking for Demi and when he found out she was in my room, he lost it. I got home shortly after he got here but he’d already gotten to Demi.” His voice breaks as he says her name.

“Why was she here?” I already know the answer but I don’t want Brody to know that I do. I’m the only one who knows that he and Demi have been seeing each other on the sly. I don’t condone cheating, since I’ve been cheated on, but I understand why he felt the need to keep quiet about it.

“She was waiting for me,” he swallows, “When I got here he was in my room and he was hitting Demi. God, Gray. He just wouldn’t stop. She was fighting back, kicking and screaming. I grabbed him and that’s when we got into it. We ended up down here and luckily Jace arrived when he did because I would’ve killed the fucker.”

Jace is one of our other team mates and not one of Tommy’s biggest fans. I’m grateful he was able to stop it before Brody got carried away. When he says he would’ve killed Tommy I don’t doubt it. Brody isn’t afraid of physical altercations, and he knows how to use his fists.

“Where is she now?”

“Upstairs, in my room. Huntley’s with her. She looks bad Gray. He almost broke her arm! I’ve never seen him so angry!” He breaks out into sobs and I don’t hesitate to comfort him. He’s been there for me during the worst times of my life and returning the favor comes as naturally to me as breathing. He’s a brother to me and I hate to see him hurting.

“Do we need to take her to the hospital?”

He shakes his head. “No, she doesn’t want to go. Stubborn woman,” he mutters. “We need to get her out of here before he decides to come back. I’m never leaving her out of my sight after what that motherfucker did.” He takes a breath and calms himself. “I know what we did is wrong, trust me I do. But she didn’t deserve to be beaten like trash. And it’s my fault. I should’ve stayed away. But fuck Gray, that girl up there is my heart. She has been ever since she shoved that Goddamn mud pie in my face when we were six.”

We both chuckle at the memory. I understand what he’s saying. Because I’m pretty sure my heart is up there with her right now.

“I’m going to go check on the girls,” I say standing up.

“Ok. I’ll clean this up.”

Walking into Brody’s room I’m a little apprehensive as to what I might find. Huntley is sitting on the bed with her arm over Demi’s shaking shoulders. Both girls are crying and I contemplate giving them a minute. The floorboards creek under my feet and abruptly foil my plan to turn around and leave.

Huntley looks up at me and the expression on her face is enough to break my heart. I walk over and stop in front of them.

Holy shit.

Demi’s face is already starting to bruise.

There’s a cut on her forehead and her lip is busted.

I clench my fists and suppress the anger I feel building. What the fuck gave Tommy the right to smack Demi around like this? No man should ever lift his hands to a woman, no matter how angry he gets.

I look at Huntley, “You ok baby?” She shakes her head and more tears slip down her face.

I turn my gaze to Demi and kneel in front of her. She flinches slightly at my closeness and I cringe. How is she supposed to trust another man again?

“I’m not going to hurt you,” I tell her, my voice soft and reassuring. “Are you ok to leave with us or do we need to take you to the hospital?”

“I need to get out of here,” she whispers. Her voice broken is and desolate and it’s so foreign in contrast to her usual perkiness.

“I’m so sorry Dem. We’ll make him pay for this. Have you called your parents or the police?”

She shakes her head. “No. My parents are away on holiday and I don’t want to get the police involved.”

“Are you fucking kidding me Demetria?”