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I stretch out an arm and fumble until I find the device, manage to pull it from the charge cord and open one eye to see MacGyver's name on the screen. I slide to answer. "Yeah."

"You alone?"

Both eyes open now, and I glare at the ceiling. "Yeah, why?"

"Didn't know how the ride ended is all. And I have news."

Violet and I rode around the island for a while to enjoy the sunny day, and after MacGyver peeled off to head home, Vi and I took the ferry to Southport and rode down to the waterfront before stopping for an ice cream flight to share at a little Italian place.

We chatted a bit about things we saw along the way, what flavors we wanted to try among the large selection of treats and kept the conversation to general get-to-know-you type stuff. We both worked to keep the conversation light, and in doing so, she cuddled against my side aboard the ferry back to Carolina Cove and welcomed my kisses at her parents' front door when I dropped her off at home.

I wanted to dig deeper beneath the walls she wore as gorgeously as she did my old jacket, but the timing felt off. So I hadn't.

And now I wish I had.

I shove a pillow behind me and scoot to sit up against the headboard, abs tight as I say, "Tell me."

"The call was a release alert about an ex-con named Thad Urich. And before you ask, I already pulled up his file. He took a plea," MacGyver pauses before quietly adding, "after the near-fatal domestic assault on his wife, Violet Greene Urich."

I see red as I suck in a breath. I feel my blood pulsing through my veins and roll to my feet to pace to the closet for clothes.

No woman deserves to be abused, and any man who'd lay his hands on⁠—

"Do not go off half-cocked," the man warns. "I do not want to be the one arresting you, Sully."

You'd have to catch me first, I muse.

"Violet hasn't said anything to you?"

"No," I grit out, lifting my palm and rubbing my eye hard. "I always knew there was a reason she's the way she is, but—she hasn't said anything. Did that file include pictures?"

"I'm not showing you these, man. Don't ask. It isn't going to happen."

That means it's even worse than I might be thinking. "It's that bad?"

It all makes sense now, and I kick myself from here to Sunday that I didn't put the pieces together sooner. The wariness in her gaze around men, the way she kept to herself even while bartending. Stayed in her shell. Guard up.

I'd sensed her history wasn't pretty. But I certainly never wanted to think it was as bad as a near-death assault. "I gotta go."

"Sully—"

"I won't do anything stupid," I promise him.

Not at the moment, anyway.

Despite the urge to throw on some clothes and blaze a trail to Violet to demand answers, I force myself to shower, drink some coffee and attempt to get my anger under control.

I have to talk to Violet the right way. Otherwise, she'll shut down and shut me out just like the night she received that phone call.

I have to play this smart. But how?

I have so much anger to burn off that I change again, putting on gym clothes and tossing the ones I had on into a backpack to put on after my workout. I head to the firehouse and enter through the back, tossing my gear on the floor instead of going into the locker room to store it.

I'm too amped up. Too worried about Violet and how close she came to death at the hands of her so-called husband. Too angry that she let me go on and on about my sister dying at the hands of her husband while not saying a word about what she barely lived through.

The gym is empty, and I hit the treadmill like a man possessed. I run until sweat soaks me, and my stomach starts to cramp. I slow to a jog and then hop off, turning. That's when I spot Gabriel Wolfe, fire chief of Carolina Cove, watching me with a wary expression. He's in workout gear too but, for whatever reason, remaining by the door to observe.

"What happened?"