With Visions of Red: Book 2 (The Broken Bonds 2)

I don’t wait to hear whatever else bullshit he has to say. I kill the call and toss my phone on the seat. I shift to see around traffic. Why the hell don’t I have a police siren!

Laying on the horn, I get the car ahead of me to pull up a bit, then I wheel my car onto the median. I’ll ride the damn side of the highway all the way to the station if I have to.

* * *

The department isn’t as crowded this morning, and I take full advantage of that as I blaze my way right through the bullpen toward the interrogation rooms.

I peek my head in the first two before I find Quinn inside the observation room of the third.

“You need to release him,” I say with no preamble. “Carson had nothing to bring him in on, and you know it. I can’t believe he sucked you into his witch hunt.” I start toward Quinn, but the sight on the other side of the glass stops me short.

Colton sits at the table alone. His face is pale. Dark shadows bruise the skin beneath his eyes. He’s wearing the same clothes I saw him in yesterday, and his dark hair looks like he’s ran a hand through it all night. Despite his exhausted state, he still seems alert and calm. He’s strong. Colton is strong. His shoulders are squared. His back straight, not slumped. Just by his posture, I can tell Carson didn’t break him.

But, oh…how I’m going to break Carson.

“Where’s Carson?” I ask, turning toward Quinn.

He expels a lengthy breath. “It’s been a long night, Sadie. I need you to take it down a notch.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “You want me to take it down a notch? You bring in a half-cocked, asshole of a detective on a vendetta mission to work an angle behind my back, and you want me to chill?” I bite down on my tongue, cutting my rant off. “Where the hell is Carson?” I say each word slowly, making sure he hears just how insulted I am.

“Christ, Bonds.” He looks at me closely then. “I don’t care how cocky he is. Hell, I could give a shit if Carson dances in front of the cameras when we catch the killer. Just as long as we catch him and you’re safe!”

I blink. My mouth opens, and then I close it. “Quinn, we’ve worked cases like this before.”

“Not like this,” he says, his hazel eyes resolute.

A tense silence fills the observation room, and I turn toward the one-way mirror. Just a piece of glass separates me from Colton. Just a thin pane. But the truth is, we’re oceans apart. My sin separates me from everyone, especially Colton.

I look at Quinn, fearing the misery in his eyes, but I look. “Last night was a ploy to keep me away from the department, Quinn. Have you even questioned why?”

“I have, Sadie. Believe me, I’m not as dense as you’d like to think. Old and rusty, but I’m still in the game.” We share a smile, and that loosens some of the stifling veracity gripping me. “Yes, I’ve been working out why you needed to be kept away, so I need that phone, Bonds.”

I nod. “I’ll get it to the techs. They can try to trace—”

“No,” he says, moving in closer as he extends his hand. “I need you to hand it over.”

Taken aback, I stare up at him with narrowed eyes. “What are you saying?”

With a loud exhale, Quinn rubs the back of his neck. “You’re off the case.”

“Like hell. I’m the only link you have…the only person the UNSUB has contacted—”

“And that’s exactly why I’m pulling you off.”

We lock gazes for a stretch of time where neither one of us is willing to yield. Then Quinn breaks the silence as he nods toward Colton. “You’re involved with him.” The accusation is clear in his voice.

I don’t waver. “I am.” It feels right to say. Hearing myself voice it aloud is a liberation I never thought I’d own.

He shakes his head. “Then you can’t be here, Bonds. I don’t care how it happened or when, but the fact is, you need to leave. Now.”

“So this is the real reason,” I say. Disappointment festers bitterly in my stomach.

“Do you want to spend another night fearing for people connected to you? Or fearing the next message? What about all those victims. All those women… Do you even stop to think that could end up being you?” He turns his head away, his jaw locked hard. When he looks at me again, he’s forcefully composed. “I need you off the case so I can fucking think clearly to do my job.”

The door to the interrogation room opens, drawing both our attention to the glass.

“Who the hell…?” Quinn says.