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.”