Free A Man to Trust by Cheryl Yeko

patted a spot on the couch next to him. “Come have a seat so we can talk.”
    Her lips pursed, she huffed and took a seat on the matching leather chair across from him. She crossed her arms under her breasts and glared some more, which only made her look even more appealing. He wanted to lean over and kiss the pout right off her pretty face. He bit back a laugh, not wanting to piss her off any more than he had already.
    “I’m here.” Her voice held a note of defiance. “So what do you need to know?”
    His humor fled as he studied the injury to her face and remembered what she’d been through that evening. Leaning forward, he placed his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together. “For starters, what are you hiding?”
    “What makes you think I’m hiding anything?”
    “Call it a gut feeling.”
    She scowled. “Well your gut’s wrong. I’ve told you everything I know.”
    “What about your marriage?” Jake didn’t miss the way she paled and glanced away.
    “What about it?”
    “Why were you a prisoner in your own home?”
    “I wasn’t. That’s ridiculous.”
    “That’s not what you said earlier, Angel.”
    She glared at him. “My name is Angela. Use it.”
    He raised a brow in amusement. If he could keep her off balance, maybe he could get to the truth. “Answer the question. Why were you a prisoner in your home?”
    She shifted in her chair and there was a short pause. “Scott was . . . controlling.”
    “How so?” Tension poured through him. Controlling?
    She twisted the chain of her necklace around her finger. A gesture he was becoming familiar with when she was nervous or upset.
    “He preferred I didn’t go anywhere without him, that’s all.”
    “And if you did?”
    “He would become upset.”
    Jake straightened and rolled his shoulders back, instinctively preparing for battle. His blood thrummed a fast rhythm at the implication of her words. “Did he hit you?”
    She peered at him from under her lashes before lowering her gaze to the coffee table. “Sometimes.”
    “Bastard,” Jake said harshly. If the guy weren’t already dead, he would’ve kicked his ass. “Why did you stay?”
    She shrugged and glanced away.
    Jake regretted the question as soon as it left his mouth. He’d been a cop long enough to know better.
    From the stubborn look on her face, he knew he’d blown it and wouldn’t get anything more from her. Not now anyway. “Okay, then tell me what happened tonight.”
    Her hand curled tightly around the arm of the chair. “You know what happened. Some guy broke into my house and attacked me.”
    “Tell me what you remember. What he said or did?” She nodded, but didn’t look at him. “I was in my bedroom at my vanity table getting ready for bed. From out of nowhere, Shelby suddenly freaked out and dashed from the room. When I went to see what was wrong, he grabbed me from behind.” Her voice shook and she paused.
    “Go on, Angel.”
    She glanced at him, then looked away. “He—he knocked me onto the bed and when I tried to get away, he hit me.”
    “Did he say anything?”
    “He said I’d never get the chance to testify.” She chewed at her lower lip.
    Jake placed his hand over hers where it gripped the chair. “Did he say anything else?”
    “He said that the cops would never be able to touch them.” She jerked her hand away and placed it in her lap. “He told me I was nothing more than a drug dealer’s whore and the cops wouldn’t care what he did to me.” Her voice was accusing and her eyes snapped with anger.
    He tensed. “You know that’s not true.”
    “Do I?”
    “Yes.”
    “But you don’t trust me.”
    “No,” he admitted. “You haven’t exactly been honest with me and until you are . . .” He shrugged.
    “I’ve been honest,” she denied.
    “You didn’t tell me about the phone call.”
    Her lips pressed together in a thin line, and she lowered her eyes until her lashes swept across her pale cheeks, but not before he