I stare at her across the island. "How do you know that antagonizing him is that bad?"
She stiffens slightly, but she leans her side against the kitchen counter and shrugs. "He likes being in control."
"What did he used to do when he thought you were out of control?"
Her lips purse and she breaks eye contact to stare at her feet. 
"Doc?"
She turns away from me, and I slide off the barstool at the island. With her back pressed against my chest, I run my hands up and down her arms that are braced against the counter. 
"Doc," I whisper in her ear. "I can't help you if I don't know."
"I don't want you to know. The kind of help you'll want to give... And there's nothing... Any evidence is gone."
I work extra, extra hard to stay relaxed when everything in me wants to spring into action, force an answer, deal with him in a way that'll only get me put in jail, not him. 
"What happened?" I ask, keeping my voice gentle.
She turns in my arms, and she frames my face with her hands. There are tears in her eyes. "There's no evidence," she says. "Just my word against his. You know what that usually means? I can't win."
"But there was evidence?" There's no chance we're losing to Dalton. I'll make up evidence if I need to.
"Yeah," she says, dropping her hands, shoulders slumped. "Officer Stephen Foster had all the evidence, but I never filed anything. He said he'd keep the reports and photos in case I changed my mind. But he's left the island. No one knows where he's gone."
"The threat of you filing kept Dalton in check."
"I always assumed so, yes. We said our breakup with amicable, and we left each other alone."
"He knows this police officer is off the island?"
"Yes."
I try to catch her gaze because we're still dancing around what actually happened. Something physical. My heart races to know, and my stomach churns at not knowing. 
"I'm going to believe you, doc. The idea that I might agree with him is as unlikely as a rocking horse taking a shit."
That makes a tiny stutter of a laugh escape her, and her watery gaze meets mine again. A tear streaks down her cheek, and this intense desire to protect her at all costs explodes across my body. 
"Tell me," I say again, knowing I might want to commit murder.
"You have to promise you won't go see him. And not a promise like the last time. A real promise. One you mean. I couldn't take it if I told you this and it ruined your life too."
The "too" part kills me. I nod because I don't think I can get any words past the sudden lump in my throat.
"When I was with him, he was always... He was a boundary pusher. Once we were both tested and knew we were clean and healthy, he stopped wearing condoms. The one time I said something, he said they made him enjoy sex less, and so he wasn't wearing one when there was no reason. It seemed...reasonable enough, I guess. I didn't have a good reason to insist since I was taking the pill. Or I didn't feel like I did."
"Okay." I draw the word out while my brain ticks through all the birth control conversations we've had. For me, since I don't want kids anytime soon, I never even brought up not wearing a condom. Dual protection works for me.
"He'd been hinting at kids and marriage. But he'd been married before—twice—and not had any kids. So, I don't know. Whenever he brought it up, I sidestepped it, but when Dalton really wants something, he's... He'll do anything."