His eyes widen. “Is that what you think is about? I don’t give a fuck what he thinks. I made a promise to keep you safe. That’s why you wanted me in the first place. That’s what this has been about since day one.”
My lips press shut. That may have been how it started, but it’s not how it ended. He means so much more to me than that. I’d rather get hurt than see him hurt. I care about him more than myself. That’s what this is about now.
“Please,” I whisper.
His hands cup my face, and he presses his forehead to mine. “I made a promise to myself.” His voice is rough. “My mother died because I couldn’t protect her. I won’t make the same mistake twice.”
That’s the problem with finding the biggest, baddest boy around to protect me. He doesn’t back down, not for anything. Not even for me.
And I realize that the fire didn’t burn everything down. The embers are still there in his eyes, waiting to scorch the earth. This won’t end until Matthew is dead. Blue will end up in prison for life—or maybe worse. Maybe dead.
It’s the worst thing, the one thing I can’t survive, and I’ll do anything to save him.
Even hurt him.
Chapter Five
“This is very important, Hannah. Mrs. Moreno has the pictures of your bruises. We need to know who hurt you.”
I refuse to look up, to meet his eyes. My voice is a whisper. “I told her.”
“We have her statement, but I need to hear it from you.”
After a long beat of silence, I look up into the kind eyes of a judge. He looks sorry for me. Everyone is sorry for me. They just can’t help me. Isn’t that what Blue told me? That they don’t understand what it’s like in the system. They shove us around like dolls in cardboard houses.
I grasp the wood handles of the chair, already slick from my palms. “What will happen to him?”
The judge looks tired. “That depends on a lot of factors.”
“Like what?”
He doesn’t want to tell me. I can see that much. “It depends on if there’s a trial or not.”
This isn’t a trial. It’s just a hearing to figure out if I should be left at the house or removed. Blue probably has a hearing just like this one. Of course Matthew won’t have one, because he’s not a foster kid. He’s one of the actual kids who live at that house.
“There won’t be a trial.” I don’t say it like a question. I may be young, but I know that much. I’m just a stupid little girl from the wrong side of the tracks. A girl whose daddy ended up in jail. A girl whose mother took too many pills and never woke up.
Girls like us, we don’t get trials.
The judge looks dow
n at his papers. He shuffles them around. He doesn’t want to tell me the truth, but he doesn’t want to lie. I appreciate that, at least.
His voice is severe when he repeats, “Hannah, we need to know who hurt you.”
“It was Blue,” I whisper. “Eugene Blue.”
If I say it was Matthew, they’ll remove me from the home. And Blue too. But they won’t be able to prosecute Matthew. He won’t go to jail. He won’t be punished in any way—except by Blue.
He’ll go back and finish the job. It took two of the older boys at the home plus Matthew’s drunk-ass dad to pull Blue off him. And I’m grateful. They’re the only reason Blue isn’t standing trial for murder.
It doesn’t matter that he’s a minor. There’s no way they’d let him off a second time. And if they let us out, Blue will finish the job. He’ll get himself in prison. I know it.
If I say it was Blue, if I say he hurt me, he won’t go to prison—not as a minor, not for getting a little rough with a girl like me. Oh, but they’ll definitely send him away from this house, away from Matthew. Far away, exactly where he wanted to go.
He won’t be able to come back.
He won’t want to come back, once he hears what I’ve done.