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“Motherfucker,” Julian hisses, slamming the door of one of the patrol cars closed and Brooks flicks an annoyed glance over his shoulder. It’s clear he’s not buying Julian’s story anymore.

“Where did you get that bruise, Darlin’?” he asks, pointing to Ivy’s cheek and she raises a shaky hand to cover it.

“Oh, I’m just a klutz, you know.”

Damn it.

He sighs, his lips pressing into a thin line. It’s domestic violence excuse number one and he doesn’t believe it for a second but if Ivy refuses to tell the truth, his hands are tied. He studies her for a moment before reaching in his pocket and pulling out a business card.

“My number is on there and you can call me anytime. I’d like to talk to you again in a few days. Would that be okay?”

Ivy stares down at the card for a moment before nodding. “I’ll think about it.”

“Ma’am,” he sighs, his gaze roaming her body like he’s checking for more bruises. “If someone hurt you, you have to tell us so we can help you. They could hurt you or someone else if you let them get away with it.”

The intent behind his words is clear and I’m glad there is someone taking this seriously. Ivy nods.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

He sighs again, giving up since it’s clear Ivy won’t be talking about any of this today. I don’t blame her, though. She literally just escaped from Julian minutes ago and she needs time to process. Officer Brooks turns away and as he walks back to his patrol car, I meet Julian’s gaze across the lot. With just a look, one thing is clear.

This isn’t over.