“What the fuck?” I glare at the folder, but I don’t reach to open it. I fist my hands together in my lap as I ask, “How did he only get eighteen months after almost killing a woman?”
“Sadly, shit like that happens all the time,” Harlow says with a weary sigh. “The number of women who are killed or nearly killed by their significant others, is depressing. Not to mention how many of those women know they’re in danger ahead of time and beg for help only to have the legal system fail them.”
“Which is what happened with Natalie,” Jess says. “About eight months after they started dating, Phillip pushed her down a flight of stairs. She filed a motion for a restraining order immediately, but the dickhead kept violating it. He said it was because he wanted to be in his daughter’s life.”
“If he wanted that, he wouldn’t have pushed a pregnant woman down a flight of stairs and sent her into early labor,” Evie says, fire in her usually kind eyes. “Fucking monster. Thank God Crissy and Natalie both ended up being okay.”
I shake my head, still feeling like I have a chunk of ice in my chest, one that’s slowly freezing the blood in my veins. “No, there has to be a mistake. That can’t be right. Crissy’s dad was a one-night stand Nat met on vacation in London. She told me she searched for him, but couldn’t find him again, no matter how hard she tried. She was so embarrassed when we talked about it, her whole face turned red.”
Evie and Harlow exchange loaded looks while Jess’s lips press into a hard line that slashes across the bottom half of her face.
“No, seriously,” I insist. “Maybe this guy was confused or something. Or the sources you found online were mistaken.”
“Or maybe Natalie turns red when she lies,” Jess says, lifting a hand to stop me before I can jump to Nat’s defense. “I’m not saying I judge her for it. If I had a murderous ex-boyfriend, I might lie about it, too. Even to people I love. I’m sure she’s just so scared, she wants to forget Phillip the Fuckhead even exists. But he does exist.” She pulls in a breath before adding, “And he’s not in prison anymore.”
“And he might not be in California anymore, either,” Evie adds. “One of Ian’s new teammates has a sister who’s in law enforcement in San Francisco. She did a little poking around and found out Phillip missed his last two meetings with his parole officer. According to California law, they were supposed to notify Natalie when he got out of prison, but I don’t know if they have to do the same thing when he misses meetings and stuff.”
I shake my head, my brow furrowing. “I’m still confused. So, he was sent to prison for pushing her down the stairs? If so, how was he able to violate the restraining order?”
“He didn’t get sent to prison for that,” Jess says, a quiver in her voice I don’t care for. At all. I care even less for what she says next. “He was sent to prison after her broke into her apartment, hit her, threatened her with a knife, and tried to kidnap her and the baby. But she apparently fought back, bloodied his face, and called 911, scaring him off. The cops found him just a couple blocks from her place, lurking around like he was planning to head back as soon as they were gone. Thank God the damage he did to her while he was in her apartment, combined with his previous violations of the restraining order, was enough to get him sent to prison. Though not for nearly long enough if you ask me.”
“Fuck,” I mutter, my stomach turning inside out. I drop my head into my hands, digging my fingers into my scalp. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“Did Nat tell you something about that?” Evie asks gently. “You didn’t seem totally surprised by the news.”
“No, she didn’t,” I mutter, dragging my clawed hands through my hair as I lift my head. “Crissy did. Sort of. When she first saw me kissing Nat, she freaked out. She thought I was a vampire, like the guy she saw covered in blood at her house when she was little.”
Harlow curses beneath her breath and Evie makes a soft, pained sound. “Oh, no. That poor sweet thing.”
“I will kill him myself,” Jess says coldly. “If he comes anywhere near Crissy again, he’s fucking dead. I’ll end him. That’s all that waste of flesh deserves. He doesn’t get to traumatize that precious, genius baby T. rex ever again.”
The ice in my chest melts a little at the intensity in her voice. “She loves you, too. She’s always asking to come hang out with Miss Jess.”