The Deal(98)

“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…f*ck, 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 f*cking narcissist, too. I’ve never known anyone who is so full of himself, so f*cking arrogant. My mother and I were just props to him. Trophy wife, trophy son. He doesn’t give a shit about anyone but himself.”

I have never told anyone about this before. Not Logan or Tuck. Not even Birdie, the master of keeping secrets. Anything related to my father, I keep to myself. Because the sad truth is, too many people out there would be tempted to sell the story to make a few bucks. It’s not that I don’t trust my friends, I do, but when you’ve already been disappointed by the one person you’re supposed to trust most in your life, you’re not exactly keen on giving people any kind of ammunition over you.