Beneath Your Beautiful (Beautiful, #1)

“I need…I need to tell you some things and I need you to let me finish before you say anything. What you decide to do afterwards is your decision, ok?”


My heart starts racing wildly and my imagination starts conjuring up every possible worst-case-scenario. I swallow hard and nod once, pushing her to continue.

“Before I moved here, some things happened that I’m not proud of, despite the fact that they were out of my control. I was young and immature and I made some very stupid decisions,” she pauses, wiping the tears that have started falling down her face. “I dated a guy, Jake, for almost 3 years. He was the popular guy at our school, and when he started paying attention to me I got excited. My dad died when I was two, so it was just me and my mom. I wasn’t used to getting male attention and I thought the way Jake treated me was how it was supposed to be. My moms’ boyfriends treated her the same way so it was all I knew about relationships.”

I audibly grind my teeth. What did his Jake fucker do to my beautiful girl? Why was no one around to protect her?

Huntley starts sobbing next to me. I move to put my arm around her but she quickly evades my embrace and jumps off the bed. “No,” she says, “Wait until you know all of it, before you decide I’m worth touching.”

She paces the carpet in front of me and it takes all my strength not to grab her and comfort her. But I can tell that she needs time, she needs to get this off her chest in order to trust herself. And me.

“The first time I had sex with him,” she continues. My fists clench on their own accord and I brace myself for what’s coming. “It was awful. I knew it would hurt but I expected Jake to be gentle with me, to take care of me. I wanted him to appreciate the gift I was giving him, the one part of myself I can never get back. He didn’t care though, and even when I started crying he carried on. It took me almost a month to gather the courage to do it again, and even then he didn’t care about me at all.” She takes a breath between sobs and looks at me, the fear and indignity burning in her sad eyes. “Are you sure you want to hear the rest?” she asks hesitantly.

I look away but nod. I hear her sharp intake of breath and know that she has misinterpreted my need to look away. It’s not because I’m disgusted with her. I’m disgusted with the motherfucker who wasn’t man enough to treat this beautiful, fragile girl with the love and respect that she deserves.

“The third time,” she swallows hard, “He convinced me to try without a condom. He said it was more enjoyable for both of us. I was on the pill, and all I really wanted to do was make him happy so I agreed. Needless to say, it was as awful for me as the first two times. Jake was always too concerned about his own needs to worry about mine.”

By now she’s stopped pacing but her sniffles worsen the more she continues to tell me. I’m angry and frustrated. Angry because I have the urge to find this dickhead Jake and fuck him up with a sledge hammer and frustrated because Huntley won’t allow me to comfort her. I can see what this is doing to her, and the sight of her baring her soul to me awakens something else inside my own heart.

Guilt.

Because there are things about me that Huntley also deserves to know.

I watch her every move as she sits down on her faux shag carpet. She takes a few calming breaths but they do nothing to ease her cries. I don’t move from my spot on the bed.

“I found out eight weeks later that I was pregnant,” she cries. I’m sure she can see the surprise on my face but she continues anyway. “I was terrified. I had no idea what I was going to do. I decided the best thing to do was tell Jake and hope he wouldn’t be too angry with me. He started drinking more and I was sure he was on drugs so I never knew what mood I would find him in. On the night I decided to share the news, I walked in on him,” she sniffles, “having sex with my best friend Taylor.”

My mind goes blank and flashbacks from when my ex cheated on me replay in vivid Technicolor. I have no idea what to say.

My instincts kick in and I bend down to where Huntley is all but crumpled up on the carpet. Wordlessly, I wrap my arms around her and carry her to the bed. I would give anything to take away what she’s feeling right now.

“What happened next?” I whisper. I ignore every warning signal in my head telling me to leave it alone, that I won’t like what I’m about to hear.

Tamsyn Bester's books