The Deal

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The Deal Page 24

by Elle Kennedy


  I don’t want to touch even a single part of that response, so I ignore it altogether. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be fine.” She waves a hand. “My cousin is visiting from Brown, so I’ll just recruit her.”

  “I heard that!” a female voice shouts from inside the room.

  “Thanks for being so cool about this,” I say gratefully.

  “No prob. Hold on a sec.” Tracy disappears, then comes back a moment later with her car keys dangling from her index finger. “Hey, so I don’t know how you feel about sex tapes, but if you get a chance, record every single thing you do with that boy tonight.”

  “I most definitely will not.” I take the keys and grin at her. “Have fun tonight, babe.”

  Back in my room, I grab my phone from the living room couch and text Garrett.

  Me: U home?

  Him: Yup.

  Me: Bailing on the dorm crawl. Can I come by?

  Him: Glad u came to your senses, baby. Get your ass over here.

  29

  Garrett

  When the front door creaks open, I’m more than a little apprehensive, because I half expect Hannah to appear in some ridiculous-ass costume in an attempt to spread the Halloween cheer and lure me to that dorm party.

  Fortunately, she looks like regular-old Hannah when she pops her head into the living room. Meaning she looks fucking gorgeous, and my dick immediately salutes her. Her hair is tied in a low ponytail with her bangs swept to one side, and she’s wearing a loose red sweater and black yoga pants. Her socks, of course, are neon pink.

  “Hey.” She flops down beside me on the couch.

  “Hey.” I sling my arm around her and plant a kiss on her cheek, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

  I have no idea if I’m the only one feeling this way, but Hannah doesn’t pull away, nor does she tease me about how fucking boyfriendly I’m acting. I take that as a promising sign.

  “So why’d you flake out on the party?”

  “I wasn’t in the mood. I kept picturing you crying here alone and pity won out.”

  “I’m not crying, jackass.” I point to the boring-ass milk documentary that’s flashing on the TV screen. “I’m learning about pasteurization.”

  She stares at me. “You guys pay money to subscribe to a gazillion channels and this is what you choose to watch?”

  “Well, I flipped by it and saw a bunch of cow udders, and, well, you know, it turned me on, so—”

  “EW!”

  I burst out laughing. “Kidding, babe. If you must know, the batteries in the remote died and I was too lazy to get up and change the channel. I was watching this wicked-awesome miniseries about the Civil War before cow udders came on.”

  “You’re really into history, huh?”

  “It’s interesting.”

  “Some of it. Other parts, not so much.” She rests her head on my shoulder and I absently toy with a strand of hair that’s come loose from her ponytail. “My mom bummed me out this morning,” she confesses.

  “Yeah? Why?”

  “She called to tell me that they might not be able to leave Ransom for Christmas, either.”

  “Ransom?” I say blankly.

  “That’s where I’m from. Ransom, Indiana.” A bitter note creeps into her voice. “Also known as my own personal hellhole.”

  My mood instantly goes somber. “Because of…?”

  “The rape?” She smiles wryly. “You can say the word, you know. It’s not contagious.”

  “I know.” I swallow. “I just don’t like saying it because it makes it feel…real, I guess. And I can’t stomach the thought that it happened to you.”

  “But it did,” she says softly. “You can’t pretend otherwise.”

  A short silence falls between us.

  “So why can’t your parents come to see you?” I ask.

  “Money.” She sighs. “Just in case you were cozying up to me because you thought I was some heiress, you should know that I’m at Briar on a full scholarship, and I get financial aid for expenses. My family is broke.”

  “Get out.” I point to the door. “Seriously. Get out.”

  Hannah sticks out her tongue. “Funny.”

  “I don’t care how much money your family has, Wellsy.”

  “Says the millionaire.”

  My chest stiffens. “I’m not a millionaire—my father is. There’s a difference.”

  “I guess.” She shrugs. “But yeah, my parents are buried under mountains of debt. It’s…” She trails off, and I glimpse a flash of pain in her green eyes.

  “It’s what?”

  “It’s my fault,” she admits.

  “I highly doubt that.”

  “No, it really is.” Now she sounds sad. “They had to take out a second mortgage to pay for my legal fees. The case against Aaron, the guy who—”

  “Who better be in jail,” I finish, because I honestly can’t hear her say the word rape again. I just can’t. Every time I think about what that bastard did to her, white-hot rage floods my stomach, and my fists tingle with the urge to hit something.

  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 unt

il 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.”

  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.

  But I trust Hannah. I have faith that she won’t tell anyone about this, and as my confession hangs in the air, it’s like a load has been lifted off my chest.

  “So yeah,” I say roughly, “the last time I celebrated Hallo-fucking-ween, I got the shit kicked out of me by my own father. Not a happy memory, huh?”

  “No, it’s not.” Her free hand rises to stroke my jaw, which is covered with stubble because I was too lazy to shave today. “But you know what my therapist used to tell me? The best way to forget a bad memory is to replace it with a good one.”

  “I’m pretty sure that’s easier said than done.”

  “Maybe, but there’s no harm in trying, is there?”

  My breath lodges in my throat when she climbs into my lap. You’d think it would be impossible for me to get hard when we’ve just had the most depressing conversation known to man, but my dick thickens the moment her firm ass settles over it. The kiss she gives me is soft and sweet, and I groan in disappointment when her mouth suddenly leaves mine.

  I don’t stay disappointed for long, though, because the next thing I know, she’s kneeling on the floor in front of me and freeing my cock fr
om my sweatpants.

  I’ve gotten a lot of blowjobs. That’s not a brag, it’s just the truth. But when Hannah’s mouth finds me, my balls draw up tight and my cock throbs with excitement, pulsing like it’s the first time a girl’s tongue has ever touched it.

  The tip of my dick damn near blows off when the wet heat of her mouth surrounds me. One small, delicate hand caresses my thigh as she works me over with her mouth. Her other hand is curled tightly around my shaft, her thumb rubbing the sweet spot under the head of my dick, and each long suck pushes me deeper into pure, blissful oblivion.

  My hips start to move. I can’t stop them. Can’t stop myself from driving deeper into her mouth and tangling my fingers in her hair to guide her. She doesn’t seem to mind, though. My frantic thrusts bring a moan to her lips, and the sexy sound vibrates through my shaft and zings up my spine.

  The hot suction drives me crazy. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t want this girl. When I wasn’t fucking desperate for her.

  It’s only when I open my eyes that I register where we are. My roommates are at a party, but we have an early morning practice and a game tomorrow, which means they won’t be out late tonight. Which means they could walk into the living room at any second.

  I touch Hannah’s cheek to stop her. “Let’s go upstairs. I have no idea when the guys are coming home.”

  She stands up without a word and holds out her hand to me.

  I take it, and then I lead her upstairs.

  *

  Hannah

  Garrett leaves the light off.

  He locks the door behind us, and I can see his eyes shining in the darkness. He strips so fast it makes me laugh, and then he’s naked in front of me, his muscular body a shadowy blur as he takes a step toward me.

  “Why are you still dressed?” he grumbles.

  “Because not everybody is as proficient at getting naked as you are.”

  “It’s not that difficult, babe. Here, let me help you.”

 
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