“Are you ready to talk about it?” I didn’t mean for the words to release from my tongue so early. I’d planned to ease my way in and get her to crack without throwing out pressure.

“Nope.” There isn’t a moment of hesitation in her response.

“Too bad.” I lift myself, causing her to do the same along with me. Scooting up the bed, we rest our backs against the headboard and stare ahead. “It needs to be talked about.”

“I beg to differ.” She pulls the blanket up her body, making sure there’s no way for me to catch a glimpse of her bruising. “Subject change.”

“Cass—”

“Please.” Her voice breaks. “Please don’t tell anyone about this.”

“I won’t tell anyone.”

She bows her head. “Thank you.”

“Because you will.”

Her body tenses, her shoulder stiff against mine. “No, I won’t.”

My nostrils flare, and like last night, I’m struggling to constrain my anger. “What’s your plan then, huh? To just let this guy get away with hurting you?”

Was it random?

Did someone come here?

How did this happen to her?

“It was one time,” she mutters with no certainty in her voice.

It’s a lie to not only me but also to herself.

“Who did it?” That seems to be the question of the motherfucking year … that I’ll never get the answer to.

“It. Doesn’t. Matter,” she grits out each word with a huff as if spitting out bad meat.

“You need to go to the cops.”

She snorts. “Please, no. This isn’t what I want to talk about first thing in the morning.”

“If you wait too long, the bruising will fade, and you won’t have a case.” Shit like this needs to be reported fast. “What if he hurts someone else?”

Cassidy might not care about protecting herself, but she has a big enough heart that she’d be concerned about the guy doing it to another woman.

“I don’t want a case,” she snaps. “I want it to fade and to forget about it.”

My heart squeezes in my chest.

This isn’t the Cassidy I know.

“You can ask me a thousand ways to Sunday, and it won’t happen,” she continues. “This is a part of myself that I’d like to keep private, and I hope you respect that.”

I cast a glance in her direction and shift to get a better look at her. The blanket is being used to conceal the damage as if she doesn’t want me to be reminded of how bad it is.

As if she doesn’t want either of us to be reminded of how bad it is.

Is she protecting him or herself?

“Are you shitting me?” I snap. “This isn’t me being overbearing or nosy. Someone assaulted you, and he needs to face the consequences for his actions.”