Chapter 160

Sullivan

I make sure I don't turn my back on the two of them as I escort her toward my patrol car. When we get there, I lean against it so I can keep an eye on what's occurring over at the door.

"Can you tell me what happened here tonight?" I ask her carefully.

"Nothing." She folds her arms over her chest, effectively trying to shut me out.

With eyes that have watched too many other women in this situation, I see it all. The dried tears along her cheeks, the makeup she's tried to put on in a rush to conceal what's been done to her, the smeared mascara. The signs are all there, but there's one that gets me every time.

The eyes.

They always tell what the mouth won't.

The fear, sadness, isolation, and hopelessness of a situation they can't seem to change.

"You're safe."

"I know I am." She raises her chin slightly. "My husband would never hurt me."

I wonder how many times she's told herself those words as she cleans up her face, or puts a homemade splint on a sprain.