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I can't take it anymore. The wait. I have to do something. I have to⁠—

I grab one of the rolling trash containers at the end of the house and haul it with me toward the bus. Sully is muttering behind me, but I'm lost in my head. In the flash flood of memories. Lost to the threats I can still hear to this day with a clarity and intensity that make me see red.

"You can't touch it, Violet," Sully says.

He clamps a hand on my arm to keep me from crossing the police tape, and only then do I realize he's said the words a few times as he's followed me.

All I hear is can't.

Because it seems Thad can do whatever he likes, destroy whatever he wants, hurt whomever he pleases—but I can't do anything?

"I know it sucks, but you have to be patient. The insurance adjuster will be here tomorrow. The arson investigator still has to finish his assessment and release the scene. The police have it roped off for a reason. You can't touch it, Violet. Not yet."

Defeat surges through me, and I fight back a whimper. "It's not right."

"I know."

I fume. So angry and so livid I practically spew, "If the police can't find him, can't do anything, I'm going to. I mean it. This has to stop!"

I'll do whatever it takes to get this man out of my head—out of my life.

I will lure him out of hiding if I have to—I just have to figure out how to do so without being the too-stupid-to-live heroine of a horror movie.

Chapter 40

Sully

* * *

And if the police can't find him, can't do anything, I'm going to. I mean it. This has to stop!

Fear grips me like a cold fist when Violet's words echo in my head. "You will do whatever it takes to stay safe."

"No! This has to end. I'm tired! I'm tired of everyone telling me to be careful and safe when he gets to do whatever he wants."

She turns and drags the trash bin behind the decorative fence and stomps back into the house.

I follow, all the while kicking myself for not being able to do more. I want to say she needs to let me and the guys take care of things here while she stays safe at my house, but instinct holds me back.

Violet needs to vent. To release her rage before it eats her up from the inside. Right now, the best thing I can do for her is to let her go. Let her rage and grieve.

That's what this is. She's mourning the damage to their beloved Betty, her independence, her safety, her life.

She's mourning the years lost to pain and fear and abuse from a so-called man. I don't need to be a shrink to know this is about more than cleaning a bus. I hear her rage and grief in every word she speaks and know this is Violet rising out of the ashes into a warrior. A phoenix from the flames.

She's grieving her freedom in a world that should be safe but isn't. She's fought this battle before, and Thad was sent away. But here he is again. And she's the one suffering for it. Again.

But no matter how much I want to toss her into my house and lock her away to keep her safe, I know I can't. Violet will not be controlled, and if I try to take her freedom away as a means of keeping her safe, I will lose her.

I'll lose us. Of that I have no doubt. And I can't risk it. I won't. "Tell me how to help you. Tell me what you need."

A rough huff escapes her before she fists her hands.

"What I need?" she repeats in a raw, incredulous voice. "I need him to be afraid for once. I need him to wonder when the next bad thing is going to happen. I want him to lose sleep. To have nightmares and look over his shoulder and be scared the way he's made me scared! I want him to feel even ten minutes of the fear and pain I feel. To hurt for years because of what he's done to me. What he's doing to me now just because he can!"

I step closer, but I don't touch her. "I get it."

"No, you don't!" She swings around to face me, seemingly surprised to find me so close.