As he walked up to the bed, he frowned. During sex last night, he’d been focused on her curves, her breasts, her pussy.

Now his head was clear enough to see…damage.

A faint bruise showed on her thigh—the outline clearly a boot mark. Someone had stomped on her leg.

Her right arm, draped over her chest, showed tiny dots of yellow—the remnants of a punishing grip.

Above that was a thin pink scar. He knew too well what a knife wound looked like.

Kinky sex?

Doubtful, despite the fact he had a feeling she’d enjoy submitting to a lover. But she said she hadn’t had sex recently. An untruth? People did lie all the time—cynicism was a side effect of a law enforcement career—but he doubted she’d lied about this. Unless her last lover was pencil-sized, she hadn’t been taken for quite a while.

Someone had beat her up. His jaw tightened to the point of pain. Hitting any woman was screwed-up, but to hurt someone this sweet was…

He had no words.

Sitting on the edge of the mattress, he traced the mark on her thigh and studied her torso. On her ribs, a red line from the edge of the table last night crossed older yellow-brown bruising. Another shadow on her softly rounded belly might have come from a punch or kick to the gut. “Jesus, the bastard really did a number on you.”

When he looked up, she was watching him, worry in her eyes. Her muscles had tensed.

“Tell me the asshole was arrested.”

“I… I don’t want to talk about it.” She looked away.

Gabe scowled at another spot on her hip and then caught her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Tell me he’s behind bars, Julie.”

“He’s behind bars.” Her voice came out a snap. Her eyes said she’d lied right to his face.

Pulling in a breath through his nose, Gabe released her. Anger roiled uncomfortably in his gut along with disappointment. And he was a dumbass. They’d just had sex, yes. She’d welcomed him inside her body, yes. That didn’t mean she trusted him.

Hell, he didn’t trust her.

But, God, he hated liars. His shoulder ached as if to remind him what happened to gullible idiots. He tried to fight the unwarranted feeling of betrayal and gave up. No need to continue being an idiot.

He rose. “I should get going.”

“Oh. Right. Of course.”

After dressing, he turned to look at her.

She sat on the bed, staring out into the black night. The covers were wrapped around her in a way that indicated she’d cocooned herself against him.

The visible barrier made his chest hurt. What the fuck had happened to his defenses?

He moved closer. Maybe they could talk. Work through…whatever this was. “Julie.”

She didn’t respond.

He lifted his voice. “Juliette.”