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Why could the woman not keep her shoes on?
“Maybe they broke up? Or the douchebag moved onto his next victim.”
“We’ll see.”
“Men. Why not just get a divorce before you cheat?”
“I don’t cheat.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’d have to have a relationship first. Why get married in the first place, and have kids, if it wasn’t for him?” She shook her head. “I guess at least he wasn’t abusive.”
Something in her voice made me turn my head. For someone who liked to talk, she didn’t talk much about her past. Had some fucker hurt her? “Someone hurt you?”
Picking up on my tone, her eyes widened. “Um, this isn’t about me.”
I reached over and snagged her hand. “Macy.”
She squeezed my fingers. “You don’t need to enter the overprotective zone.”
“Tell me.”
She fidgeted. “There was a bad ex.”
“Back in San Francisco?” The fucker was a dead man.
“Yes. He was a jealous, controlling asshole. I dumped him, end of story.”
“I can tell you’re lying.”
Her lips flattened. “Promise not to lose it?”
“No.”
“Colt! I’m not telling you, otherwise.”
I growled. “Fine.”
“He hit me. Once. He was angry, and—”
Pure fury rushed through me. The asshole had hit her? Macy wasn’t big, he could’ve hurt her, or worse.
“Hey, Colt, you promised.”
“No, I didn’t.”
She slid closer, and pressed a hand to my face. “Cool it. I’m okay. I’m right here with you in this giant SUV doing boring surveillance.”
“What’s his name?” My words were clipped.
“I’m not telling you. Daisy can’t visit her dad in jail.” She stroked my beard. “It was only once. I walked out as soon as he did it, and I’d already decided I was done with him.”
“And that was it?”
She fidgeted again. “Yes.”
“Macy…”
“Fine. He was pushy and wouldn’t leave me alone. I decided it was a good time to relocate.”
