Truth is, I've worked my entire life to keep my temper in check. Anger was the one constant emotion I felt growing up, but luckily, I found a healthy outlet for it-hockey, a sport that allows me to pound on opposing players in a safe, regulated environment.
"He didn't go to jail," Hannah says quietly.
My gaze whips to hers. "Are you fucking kidding me?"
"No." Her eyes take on a faraway light. "When I got home that night … the night it happened … my parents took one look at me and knew something bad had happened. I don't even remember what I said to them. All I remember is that they called the police and took me to the hospital, and I got a rape kit done, got interviewed, interrogated. I was so embarrassed. I didn't want to talk to the cops, but my mom told me I had to be brave and tell them everything, so they could stop him from ever doing that to anyone else."
"Your mom sounds like a very smart woman," I say hoarsely.
"She is." Hannah's voice shakes. "Anyway, Aaron was arrested, and then released on bail, so I had to see that bastard's face in town and at school-"
"They let him go back to school?" I exclaim.
"He was supposed to stay one hundred meters away from me at all times, but yeah, he went back." She offers a grim look. "Did I mention that his mother is the mayor of Ransom?"
Shock spirals through me. "Fuck."
"And his father is the parish leader." She laughs humorlessly. "His family pretty much runs the town, so yeah, I'm surprised the cops even arrested him in the first place. I heard his mother raised hell when they showed up at their house. Sorry, their mansion." She pauses. "Long story short, there were a bunch of preliminary hearings and depositions, and I had to sit across from him in court and look at his smug face. After about a month of that bullshit, the judge finally decided there wasn't sufficient evidence to take it to trial, and he dismissed the case."
Horror slams into me harder than any hit Greg Braxton could dish out. "Are you serious?"
"As a heart attack."
"But they had the rape kit, and your testimony … " I sputter.
"All the medical exam showed was that there was blood and tearing-" She blushes "-but I was a virgin, so his lawyer claimed that the act of losing my virginity could've caused it. After that, it was Aaron's word against mine." She laughs again, this time in amazement. "Actually, it was my word against his and three of his friends."
I frown. "Meaning?"
"Meaning his pals lied under oath and told the judge I willingly took drugs that night. Oh, and that I'd been throwing myself at Aaron for months, so of course he couldn't resist taking what I was offering. The way they were going on, you'd think I was the biggest druggie whore on the planet. It was humiliating."
I didn't know the meaning of blind rage until this very moment. Because the mere thought of Hannah being forced to suffer through all that makes me want to murder everyone in that small town hellhole of hers.
"It gets worse," she warns when she notices my expression.
I groan. "Oh God. I can't hear any more."
"Oh." She awkwardly averts her eyes. "I'm sorry. Forget it."
I quickly grasp her chin and force her to look at me. "Figure of speech. I need to hear this."
"Okay. Well, after the charges were dropped, the whole town turned against me and my parents. Everyone was saying some pretty awful things about me. I was a slut, I seduced him, I framed him, all that fun stuff. I ended up having to be home-schooled for the rest of the semester. And then Mayor Mom and her pastor husband sued my family."
My jaw hardens. "Fuck no."
"Fuck yeah. They claimed that we caused their son emotional distress, slandered him, a bunch of other bullshit I can't remember. The judge didn't award them everything they wanted, but he decided that my parents had to pay for Aaron's family's legal fees. Which means they had to pay for two sets of legal fees." Hannah visibly swallows. "Do you know how much our lawyer charged for every day he spent in court?"
I'm scared to hear it.
"Two grand." Her lips twist in a bitter smile. "And our lawyer was cheap. So imagine how much Mayor Mom's lawyer billed a day. My parents had to get that second mortgage and take out a loan to cover the leftover costs."
"Shit." I can literally feel my heart splinter in my chest. "I'm sorry."
"They're stuck in that fucking town because of me," Hannah says flatly. "Dad can't quit his job at the lumberyard because it's steady work and he needs the money. But at least he's working in the next town over. He and my mom can't drive into Ransom without dealing with dirty looks or nasty whispers. They can't sell the house because they'll lose money on it. They can't afford to see me this year. And I'm too much of an asshole to go back and see them. But I can't do it, Garrett. I can't ever go back there."
I don't blame her. Hell, I feel the same way about my father's house in Boston.
"Aaron's parents still live there. He still visits them every summer." She looks at me with a helpless expression. "How am I supposed to go back there?"
"Have you been back at all since you left for college?"
She nods. "Once. And halfway through that visit, my dad and I had to go to the hardware store, and we ran into two of the fathers of Aaron's friends, the pieces of shit who lied for him. One of the dads made a rude comment, something like, oh look, the slut and her father shopping for nails, because she sure likes to get nailed. Or something stupid like that. And my dad snapped."
I suck in a breath.
"He went after the man who said it, smashed his face in pretty good before the fight was broken up. And of course, a deputy just happened to be walking past the store at that moment, and he arrested my dad for assault." Hannah's lips tighten. "The charges were dropped when the hardware store owner came in and said my dad was provoked. I guess there are at least a couple honest people left in Ransom. But yeah, I haven't been back since. I'm scared that if I do, I might bump into Aaron and then … I don't know. Kill him for what he's done to my family."
Hannah rests her chin on my shoulder, and I can feel the waves of sadness radiating off her body.
I have no idea what to say. Everything she described is so brutal, and yet … I understand. I know what it's like to hate someone that much, to run away because you're scared of what you might do if you see that person's face. What you might be capable of.
My voice is raspy as hell as I blurt out, "The first time my father hit me was on Halloween."
Hannah's head snaps up in shock. "What?"
I almost don't keep going, but after the story she just told me, I can't hold back. I need her to know that she's not the only one who's experienced that kind of anger and desperation. "I was twelve when it happened. It was a year after my mom died."
"Oh my gosh. I had no idea." Her eyes go wide, not with pity, but with sympathy. "I got the feeling you don't like your dad-I heard it in the way you talk about him-but I didn't realize it was because … "
"Because he beat the shit out of me?" I fill in, my tone dripping with resentment. "My father isn't the man he pretends to be for the world. Mr. Hockey Star, family man, all that charity work he does. He's perfect on paper, huh? But at home, he was … fuck, he was a monster."
Hannah's fingers are warm as she laces them through mine. I squeeze them, needing a physical distraction from the tight ache in my chest.
"I don't even know what I did to piss him off that night. I came home from trick-or-treating with my friends, and we must have spoken about something, he must have yelled about something, but I don't remember. All I remember is the black eye and the broken nose, and being so stunned that he'd actually laid a hand on me." I laugh callously. "After that, it happened on a regular basis. He never broke any bones, though. Nope, because that would lay me out, and he needed me to be able to play hockey."
"How long did it go on for?" she whispers.
"Until I got big enough to fight back. I'm lucky, I only got wailed on for three, maybe four years? My mother lived through it for fifteen. Well, assuming he started hitting her the day they met. She never told me how long it actually went on for. Honestly, Hannah?" I meet her eyes, ashamed of what I'm about to say. "When she died of lung cancer … " I'm sick to my stomach now. "I was relieved. Because it meant she didn't have to suffer anymore."
"She could have left him."
I shake my head. "He would've killed her before he let that happen. Nobody leaves Phil Graham. Nobody divorces him, because that would leave a black stain on his pristine reputation, and he can't have that." I sigh. "He doesn't drink or have problems with substance abuse, if that's what you're wondering. He's just … sick, I guess. He loses his temper at the drop of a hat, and the only way he knows how to solve problems is with his fists. He's a fucking narcissist, too. I've never known anyone who is so full of himself, so fucking arrogant. My mother and I were just props to him. Trophy wife, trophy son. He doesn't give a shit about anyone but himself."