My Abused Luna

That Stupid Fucking Picture aka Chapter 14

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Grayson's POV

I continued to hold her tightly in my arms, running my fingers through her long hair. She did not deserve to have the childhood, that she suffered through. She should have grown up happy with her brother, I would trade anything for her to be reunited with him. I could see the sadness that flooded her eyes when she spoke of him, and what I wouldn't give for her not to know the pain of losing someone so close to her. She should never ever have felt that pain of losing her brother, so young.

Trust me I knew the feeling all to well.

We sat there for what seemed like hours in the quiet, nothing but our own breathing resonating through the room. Before I had realized it Bailey had fallen asleep in my arms, where her little snores could be heard, if you were quiet enough. That is the moment when I finally noticed the little drip of blood on her cheek, and the small cut which adorned her skin. I angrily lashed out at Oliver in my head for hurting her, for doing the one thing we promised not too.

As I cautiously stood up and carried Bailey into the guest room across the hall, I scolded myself for being so stupid. Ever since I was young I had issues with my wolf, and my father continuously tired teach me to control Oliver. However I guess I failed at curbing the Alpha beast again, like so many other things before Bailey. I tried to shake my brain of those devastating thoughts, while jogging downstairs for the first-aid kit. After looking for about ten minutes and digging through the supply closet, I finally found what I was searching for.

Then trudging upstairs as quietly possible, while finding the supplies I needed. I wandered into the guest room and gently pulled back the covers off of Bailey. I carefully cleaned the small cut on her cheek with antiseptic before applying a tiny pale bandage.

I softly pulled the covers back over her and tossed the trash into the bin. I slowly walked over to the door before stopping to turn off the lights and close the door a crack; just in case she needed me.

As I soundlessly cleaned the mess in our room, I tried not to think about things before I met Bailey. Oliver had taken refuge in a dark corner of mind, knowing I'm very pissed at him; however, I'm more pissed at myself. Angry for not meeting Bailey sooner and not helping her from that hell. I kept telling myself there was nothing I could have done, but my mind still wouldn't shake the helpless feeling.

I tried to ignore the destruction done on the room, but I had broken everything. Pictures lay shattered on the floor, lamps broken, rugs ripped, the list carried on and on. Every half hour or so, I made sure of it, I checked on my sleeping mate, all while I cleaning tirelessly throughout the night.

By the time I was almost finished it was close to 4-am, and there was one picture left on the ground, one covered in blood that I had been avoiding. I'm not sure why Oliver threw it during his rampage when it was out of sight, locked in our dresser. But deep down I knew why he threw it, he wasn't mad at the picture; he was mad at the memory of what it represented. And to be honest I was too.

I gently touched the picture of my family and I, that day at a barbecue, I was sixteen in the picture with no problems in my life. I looked so different and carefree back then, but that all changed later on that year. I snarled furiously at the picture as memories rushed back into my mind, memories which I had tried so hard to forget.

I growled out and quickly threw the broken photo back into my drawer, where it belonged. I angrily picked up the rest of the glass; smashing them into the trash while harshly turning off the lights, and slamming our door.
I stood there outside the door, in the dim light, trying to catch my breath and halt the oncoming flood of emotions.

I turned round and walked softly, into the other room, over to the bed in which Bailey was sleeping and climbed under the covers. Bailey turned over and unconsciously curled into my chest, causing my anger to briefly dissipate into the darker parts of my mind.

I kissed her forehead, smiling to myself at her gorgeous sleeping figure. Smiling at how peaceful she was and how she finally seemed to be getting a deep sleep, one which she desperately deserved. I looked over at my beautiful mate one last time, before finally resting my head on the soft pillow.

I closed my drowsy eyes, trying to find sleep with anger the was fighting it's way back into my mind, all caused by that fucking picture.

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Hey bookworms, sorry for the late update I've had some medical issues to deal with lately.

Don't forget to vote or comment, whatever floats your boat!

Until next chapter.......