“I take it it didn’t end there.”
She shook her head. A wave of weariness swept over her. “I haven’t slept much in the last few years, afraid if I closed my eyes, I’d wake up with Haydon standing over me. He does that often. I know it’s to show me he can get into my apartment no matter how often I change the locks. Once he sent me a picture of Katie Branscomb, asleep in her room. He was in the picture, standing above Katie, a grin on his face. He hadn’t threatened her with words, just let me know in his not-so-subtle way that Katie was in danger if I stopped doing what he wanted. So, I took out more loans, went into debt until I was stretched so thin there was no way to pay it all back. I told him so, and you saw the results.”
Vittorio rubbed his chin with her fingertips. The shadow on his jaw was faint, but she could feel the bristles and for some reason she didn’t understand, that feeling shot straight from her fingertips to her core. She’d never experienced anything like it. He was naturally sensual and didn’t even seem to notice, while she, in her floaty state, was afraid she would blurt out how hot he was. How could she even notice when she was telling him about Haydon and the things she knew he’d done but couldn’t prove?
“Other than seeing the smirk on his face when the detectives were investigating Owen’s accident, was there anything else that tied him to it?”
“This doesn’t tie him to it, but usually he slept in my bedroom, in front of the door. We’d taken to keeping the window open so we both could run if we had to. We knew Owen was going to retaliate because I’d hit him with a chair. It was the first night since that terrible beating that Haydon hadn’t slept there.”
“What happened when you were at the new foster home? Who were they?”
“Her name was Julie Vaughn. Her husband was Kyle. They were really good people. They gave us great rooms. Each of us had a laptop to use, and when Haydon asked for an iPod for music, they got him one. I thought they were awesome. Haydon often complained about them. He didn’t like doing the chores and said they got us to be their slaves. They were light chores and reasonable. Things like picking up our own rooms and doing our laundry. He refused, and I would do his share of the work because I was afraid he was trying to get them to punish him in some way.”
Vittorio slipped off the bed. “I’m going to lower the bed for you, gattina bella.”
Grace was grateful that he noticed she was getting tired. She didn’t like bringing attention to herself in any way. She made certain she could fade into the background and not be noticed. She’d discovered that if she kept to the shadows, the darkness helped to hide her. Haydon had colored her life in so many ways.
“In school, Haydon didn’t want me to have other friends. I made a girlfriend the first day at our new school and he was furious when we were walking home, telling me I was a sellout and wanted to be popular, that after all he’d done for me, I was going to be like everyone else and ignore him. I defended myself, but the next day, my new friend didn’t come to school. Someone had hung her cat in her doorway.”
She pulled her hand away from Vittorio and pressed her fingers against her lip, choking for a moment, trying not to think she was responsible. “He was sweet to me all that day, walking me to my classes. I kept my head down and let him.”
Vittorio fixed her pillows as if knowing she was uncomfortable. He pulled the cover up. “I know it must be hard for you to relive these things.” His long fingers slipped into her hair, massaging her scalp. “Mia bella ragazza, sei cosi coraggiosa,” he murmured.
“What does that mean?”
“Only that you’re very brave.”
She didn’t think of herself as brave. “I didn’t know how to stop Haydon,” she felt compelled to confess. “He was considered a nerd and a few members of the football team shoved him around one day in school. One by one, accidents happened to them. One nearly broke his neck because his skateboard broke in half on a dangerous hill he’d bragged to everyone he could skate. As it was, he had a broken femur and knee. It was the end of his playing football because the leg was so screwed up. Another one of the players had this car he loved more than anything. He’d saved for it for years, souped it up himself in his dad’s garage. Then one day, after he shoved Haydon at school, the brakes went out. He totaled the car and was lucky he survived.”