“I don’t,” I agreed.
The silence that descended might’ve been awkward for Jack. Not for me. I was happy in the silence that wasn’t really silence since I could hear the low hum of music from inside, the sounds of my girls. Hannah getting Clara ready for bed.
“Well, I guess if you don’t mince words, I shouldn’t either.” He cupped his hands, breathing into them in an attempt to warm them. “I like you, despite the fact that I am seriously worried you may punch me in the face at all times.”
He was joking, or at least I thought he was. But I had considered punching him in the face at least twice over the course of the day.
“I would never commit an act of violence in my home,” I told him. “Where my daughter sleeps. Where my woman sleeps. I wouldneversubject them to that.”
Jack nodded, visibly swallowing. “Yeah. I’ve seen that. You’re a good father. A good man for my sister. I apologize for jumping to conclusions when I first arrived.”
The apology seemed genuine, yet I wasn’t in the mood to accept it.
“It’s a shame that for the rest of my life, I’ll carry something with me that I won’t ever be able to atone for. But the truth is, I’ve only ever seen men hurt my sister.” His eyes, the same shade as Hannah’s—though Hannah’s were flecked with hazel—roved over the twilight-cloaked backyard. “My mother brought violence into our house. Since before we were young enough to understand. And when I was old enough, I was too weak to protect my sister.” He looked at the ground, features coated in shame. “I stopped them from going into her room while she slept. I made surethatdidn't happen."
I let out a soft exhale of relief. That had been a fear, one I’d carried with me since Hannah told me about her past. That someone had hurt her likethat,and she hadn’t felt safe enough to tell me.
As a father, the mere thought of an adult damaging a child in that way sickened me.
It was shitty of me to blame a younger Jack—a child himself—for not doing more to help Hannah, but I did. Though I was grateful he protected her from scars that would never truly heal.
“By the time I left, Waylon was already sniffing around,” he continued. “He was older than her. She was sixteen, and he was old enough to drink. It’s fucking disgusting now, to think of it. But in our small town, it wasn’t outside the norm. It’s not an excuse, but it’s when I told myself to permit myself to leave her. I knew Waylon wanted her enough to protect her from harm. I thought he loved her in a way that would keep her safe.”
“No twenty-one-year-old man loves a sixteen-year-old girl in a way that keeps her safe,” I snarled at Jack, fury heating my blood.
I’d known Hannah married Waylon young, but I hadn’t understood that it wasthatyoung. That he was very likely her first.
I tasted bile as I realized that Hannah had jumped from an unstable home with dangerous men into an abusive marriage with someone much older than her.
And when she’d moved into my house, she hadn’t even been divorced. One older man to another.
“I know,” Jack admitted, head in his hands. “I know that. I saw it at the wedding. The amount he drank, the way he held on to her, tight enough to leave marks on her arms.”
He looked up at me. His pain might’ve affected me if I hadn’t been tumbling in my own inner turmoil.
“It was too late then,” he sighed. “She was married to him. Our relationship was already strained. She didn’t like my wife. My wife didn’t like her and?—”
“You were too much of a coward to stand up to your wife and be there when your sister needed you most,” I interrupted, voice tight with rage. It was the third time I had to tamp down the urge to punch him in the face.
He flinched. At least he had the decency to do that.
“Yeah, that’s about right,” he agreed. “By the time I found out they’d broken up, she’d moved. Was in nursing school. I tried to keep up with her over the years. Cole, even though he’s mad as piss at me, kept me updated.”
Cole. Theoneman in Hannah’s life who had never let her down.
“She never dated,” Jack tapped his feet on the deck, in an attempt to keep himself warm, I guessed. “According to him. And he would know. He’s the only person Hannah tells everything to.” He looked at me sheepishly. “Though I bet that’s changed.”
It had. Or I thought it had. Hannah didn’t keep things from me. She told me things that hurt her, that shamed her. But she had carefully skirted around every conversation about past relationships.
Not that I was keen to speak about men having had their hands on my woman. Selfishly, I’d been content to not speak about it. I’d assumed a woman looking like Hannah would have had a couple of relationships between Waylon and me. Even if she had technically still been married.
I’d assumed that Hannah’s sexual nature could not have been laid dormant for so long.
But I’d made an ass out of myself with that assumption. And I’d fucked everything up.
“It’s not what I envisioned for her,” Jack told me, puffs of air coming from his mouth. He gestured to the background. “Small town, ready-made family before she even graduates college.”
My hackles went up and I fought to keep myself still. “You don’t have much of a right to envision anything for her,” I bit out. “Since you barely know who she is as an adult.”
