Rafe hadn’t tried to comfort her afterward. He’d taken her directly to her room and locked her in, bloody hands and all. She’d spent hours in her shower, sliding down the wall and crying while she scrubbed the palms of her hands raw. In the end she couldn’t tell if it was April’s blood or her own on her hands.

“You ran away again when you were seventeen.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I was afraid of what Rafe wanted from me. He looked at me differently. He watched me all the time. I didn’t know why and I was afraid. So I decided to try to get away again, but without anyone’s help.” That wasn’t the entire reason, but she wasn’t going to tell him the rest. She didn’t have proof. She never had proof, but she knew.

Rafe came into her room at night, his eyes on her. Watching her. Wholly focused on her. Waiting for something. She had no idea what it was, but she could tell he was becoming impatient.

She hadn’t left because of that. She’d left because of the women. The nights he came to her room, prowling around, his eyes glowing at her, she’d held her breath expectantly. He hadn’t laid a hand on her. But then, after he left, a car would pull up and a woman would get out. She didn’t know for certain, but she never saw the same woman twice, and she never saw them leave. Not even when she waited up all night.

“I didn’t get very far. Rafe has eyes everywhere. He found me within hours.” It was more than that, but she wasn’t going to reveal any secrets that would get her locked up. She knew Tuttle could try to lock her up for not reporting April’s murder, but she’d been a virtual prisoner and it wouldn’t stick. They both knew it. “He was angry with me.”

“What did he do? And why didn’t you go straight to the police?”

“I was his ward,” she reminded him. “He had every right to haul me back. He didn’t kidnap me. And he owned half the police department.” She knew that. She’d seen the fat envelopes that were handed out.

“What did he do?” Tuttle persisted, not denying that Rafe had owned cops. It was common knowledge.

She moistened her suddenly dry lips. For the first time she couldn’t look at him. There was nowhere to look so she stared down at her wrists. Already bruises were forming. She had very fair skin and she’d always marked easily.

“Let’s just say, I didn’t defy him again until I was very, very certain I could get away and he wouldn’t be able to track me.”