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So I spit out the idea that had tossed around inside my head all day. “He told me last night that he’d… well, he said he wouldn’t let anything come between us. He said he’d handle anything or anyone who did. Amber wanted me to go home and that was going to come between us.”

Again, he asked, “What’s your gut telling you, Em?”

“My gut says that something fucking happened to her. I’m scared out of my goddamn mind.”

“About Reeve. Do you trust him?”

I rubbed my fingers across my forehead, remembering that he’d been dressed when I’d come to him that morning, remembering how he’d dismissed me when I’d asked about it.

Remembering the night I’d spent with him and the things he’d said and the things I’d felt.

I’d been in this quandary once before – torn between loving him and the things Reeve was capable of. I didn’t need to examine the conclusions I’d come to again.

“I do trust him,” I admitted honestly. “But that doesn’t mean he didn’t do something to her.”

I didn’t eat or sleep all day. Fili