"Let me see. Up," Mack ordered Brady. It had been a week since Mack had discovered the abuse in her boyfriend's home life. He had begged her to stay silent on the topic to others. Still, every day Mack would check him for any new injuries. He had his good days and bad days, and today wasn't looking very sunny. Cuts criss-crossed every inch of his back. Brady hissed when Mack gently touched one in her bedroom that night.

"It's not that bad," he said. "Just a bit sore. Promise."
Mack scowled. "Don't say things you don't mean...So what was it this time?"

"Mom found a chip on one of her china plates."

"Yeah, but I meant, what did he hurt you with? Your dad, I mean."

Brady's eyes shifted to a beautifully framed picture of an equally beautiful woman. "Is that your mom?" He asked. "What happened to her, anyway?"

Mack tensed the slightest bit. "Not now, Brady. I just can't talk about her right now..." She took a deep breath to calm herself. "And don't change the subject! What did he hurt you with?" Silence.

"A kitchen knife," he murmured a few seconds later. Mack's eyes widened with shock.

Mack held his arm firmly yet comfortingly.

"I think we should tell Grandfather."

Brady pulled away. "No! I can't...They'll kill me!"

"They will if you don't get help," cried Mack. Tears welled up in her eyes and flowed down her cheeks. Brady instantly softened and kissed her on the cheek.

"I'm sorry. I just can't," he whispered. Watching her with regret, Brady slowly backed out the door.

"Brady..." she sobbed.

"I'm sorry," he said.

The floor creaked beneath Mack's feet as she made her way over to her Grandfather, who was currently hard at work on a new surfboard.

"Grandfather," she said, her voice cracking. He grunted in response and waived her over. "I...I need to tell you something. Something important."

"Fine, you can get a bikini. You're old enough," he rolled his eyes.

"I'M SERIOUS!" Mack shouted, her face turning red. Her grandfather slowly lowered his tools. He shook his head then turned to her.

"What is it?""

"It's about Brady!" She blurted, the tears instantly forming again. Her grandfather looked at her sympathetically.

"I never liked that boy," he grunted. "Young lady like you can do much better. Don't wor-"

"We didn't break up!" Mack gasped.

The old man blushed. "Of course he didn't. So, um... what's going on then?"

"His parents are horrible! His mom's always saying awful things to him and-" She let out a short sob. Her grandfather put his arm across her shoulders.

"There, there now. Look, the things we parents say may seem awful to you youngsters, but it's only in your best interests!"

"But-"

"No buts. Everything we say, do, and teach to you children is out of love," he said confidently. "Now go on and let me work. Sure Brady would love some company at the moment."

Was it true? Did Brady's parents just really love him? His father WAS shouting that he was giving his son a lesson the day she found out. Maybe she had it all wrong! Her boyfriend was totally fine, just a little dramatic. Right? Mack tried her best to convince herself, but she just couldn't. But...Brady had been living for years seeming perfectly happy with this life. Maybe..Maybe it really was okay.

It was raining hard. Brady had been walking for about half an hour when he finally reached his house. He tried as best as he could to sneak in silently. Carefully cracking the door open, he hoped it wouldn't squeak. Once inside, he took off his shoes and started slow, yet hopefully quiet, climb up the stairs. Two more steps. Then all he had to do was go to his bedroom. Suddenly, his mother's insane dog started barking furiously. He cursed. Why couldn't he just get away with something for once in his life?

"Shhh!" He scolded the dog. "You'll wake her up!" The dog continued barking, the volume increasing.

"Brady? Is that you?!" The shrill voice of his mother shouted.

Brady groaned and started descent back down the stairs. "Mother, I-" His mother stormed up the stairs in a drunken rage. At least his father was out tonight.

"I HAVE HAD IT WITH YOU! JUST THIS WEEK YOU FORGOT TO COOK DINNER, BROKE A PLATE, DIDN'T CLEAN THE LIVING ROOM WELL ENOUGH, AND DIDN'T FIX MY BANK ACCOUNT! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!"

"I-" Smack! For the first time in his life, his mother had hit him. She had constantly verbally abused him, sure, and let his father beat him, but his mother herself had never hit him. Soon more and more hits were erupting from the seemingly frail woman. He didn't notice his father letting himself in. He wasn't thinking clearly when he hit his mother back.

She gaped at him in shock and anger. Brady didn't have time to register what happened before his father was staring him down.

"Don't..You..EVER touch her," he panted angrily. Long gone was the man who had laughed and chuckled as he hurt his son. Now, he was seriously pissed off.

Brady's tears mixed with his blood as his father littered his body with punches and threw any chair, lamp, or heavy item that he could. Brady was struggling to breathe when his father finally announced that he was finished for the night.

"I can't stand to look at you," he spat. "I'm going to bed with my wife."

Breathe in, breathe out.. Brady repeated to himself. He chanted it over and over to himself but it quickly changed. Mack..Mack..Mack..

Brady blindly searched for his cell phone, pain blurring his ability to think straight. Just call Mack. She'll help. She's gotta help.