Always Broken (Book 1 and 2)

Chapter 28: Scars

Firstly, I would like to thank all of my readers. We have just hit 26k over the past couple of days and it's just been awesome! I thank you guys for all of the support, all the reads and the comments. But to top it off we have been trending in the teen fiction section for weeks now. Thank you so much!

Jackie Simmons

I didn't feel scared anymore. It was weird, but I didn't feel scared anymore. It was strange; it was like I had been strengthened over the past couple of days. A lot of times I thought it was because Brad was here with me or it was just because I had started to see less and less of Alejandro, which is a good thing. But as we stayed in the room by ourselves, I started to know certain things that I did not know before about my own husband.

I know mostly everything about Brad, and even though I don't tell him a lot about me, Brad knows a lot about me. But as I started to see Brad from the time I wake up until the time I go to sleep in this isolated room, we begin to know each other better than we did before.

I wanted to hate Brad for all the things he had done to me, but in this moment, I could see that Brad had changed. The old him was gone, but that didn't mean I could forgive him overnight. There was going to be some changes made if we made it out of here alive.

Brad took off his shirt to give to me to stop me from bleeding. I still had a couple of wounds on my body from the last couple of weeks I had been here before my husband showed up. But I was okay and I would survive if-

My thinking was cut off when I caught sight of Brad's back as he took off his shirt. There was numerous of little scars lying on his back. They were old and they had started to turn a brownish color. My breath became shallow and even though I had already saw the scars before, I never had the courage to ask where they had came from.

I came closer, and he was still unaware of my presence, and then I did something that I know I shouldn't do, but I couldn't help it. I touched his back, rubbing my hand up and down his skin and touching all of his scars. His skin was like a work of art, and I continued to touch him as he got tense. I knew I should stop because I have invaded his privacy. He probably did not even want me to see his scars in the first place, but I continued to touch.

"What happened?" I asked, staring at his scars.

"My father," he whispered, "stabbed me with glass multiple times ten years ago. The doctors said that my wounds were so deep and bloody that I would see the scars for the rest of my life."

I spread out my hands, rubbing his broad shoulders until I looked on his chest, seeing a very light mark that I had never saw before. I put my finger on it, touching it.

I looked up at him, as though I wanted an explanation for this scar and sadly, he gave me one. "I was burned with an iron because I brought home an 'F' on my report card when I was little."

He looked down, as if he was ashamed of his scars, and I continued to stare down at the ground.

Tears started to come to my eyes. Who in their right mind would burn a little kid with an iron just because of a bad grade? I could complain about my mother all day, but I knew she loved me. She never ever abused me, and sure I got a little spanking on the side for being bad, but I was never burned with an iron.

Hearing his stories made me feel grateful for my parents.

"Are you okay?" Brad asked me, suddenly.

I put my hand on his cheek and I said this, "You were burned?"

"Yeah, it's okay, though. It could have been through worse. I'll tell you the story," he said, putting my hands on his chest and wrapping his arms around my waist.