Beautiful Scars [1] ✔

Chapter Thirty Two

BEFORE I START THIS CHAPTER, I JUST WANTED TO GIVE A SHOUT OUT TO MY NEW FAVORITE AUTHOR:

istolethecookiez

If you don't know her, look up her username and press that follow button. Oh.. also read "Becoming Beautiful". It's on her profile. You should totally check it out!! It's worth it. Okay guys, here's the chapter. I apologize for its crappiness...

My hands were shaking so much that I couldn't control them. I was either going into shock or having a panic attack; I couldn't tell the difference. I grabbed the frame and I looked at Melissa's grandmother. "Who is this?" I whispered. My eyes looked most likely demonic, but I didn't care.

Her eyes widened at my behavior, and her expression was confused. She didn't understand why I was acting like this and what exactly it meant. I mean, was I really supposed to explain my situation to this sweet, amazing woman who just lost someone not a few days ago?

Instead, I shook my head and cleared my throat, changing my voice inflection to sound a tad nicer. "Would you please tell me who's in the picture with Melissa?"

At my tone, she raised her eyebrows, and I nodded my head curtly and muttered, "Never mind."

I walked out the room and headed towards the front door, the light of the lawn appearing in front of me. With a grimace, I opened the door and slammed it swiftly behind me. A crunching noise made me jump and I looked down to see that my foot was jammed into the partially closed door. "Shit!" I hollered.

I fell over, the pain traveling up my leg, a numbing feeling appearing out of nowhere. I brought my hand up to my mouth and squinted my eyes and moaned in pain.

I gasped as the pain subsided in my leg and I turned my head to see the door opening. Aston hovered over me, his strong hands grabbing me from under my armpits, and lifting me up. He let go of me and I stumbled, falling into a roll. "Shit," I muttered again.

He grabbed me again and lifted me. I yelped as he carried me bridal-style and I noticed we were going to his truck.

He dumped me in the passenger seat and I swallowed as he got in the driver's side. "Thanks," I mumbled.

He nodded, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. He kissed my forehead, then kissed my lips. "Are you okay?"

At the mention of that simple word "okay", tears began streaming, almost like a river, down my face.

"Hey, hey. babe, what's wrong? Does your leg hurt that much? Do you need me to get help?"

I shook my head, and his eyebrows furrowed in concern. "Well, then, what is it? What's wrong?"

I grabbed his hand and put it on my cheek, stroking it gently. "Can you do me a favor?"

"Sure. Anything. What's it?"

"Who's the guy in the photo in Melissa's bedroom?"

He suddenly jerked his head away from me and let go of my face, his hand resting on the steering wheel. His grip tightened and he muttered, "Melissa's father. He's a dickhead if you ask me. Why?"

"Aston, remember how I told you how my parents died in that house fire and how I couldn't identify the murderer?"

"Yeah, of course I remember."

"Well.. I found out who he was a few minutes ago."

He whipped his head back to me, his eyes not leaving my own. "Well, who is he?"

I sobbed into my hands and he rubbed my back, waiting for me to continue."It was Melissa's father."