With Ties That Bind (The Broken Bonds 4)

Her petite body has stopped shivering, her limbs going lax against my chest. “He didn’t even rape me,” she whispers.

I bite down on my lip. Dammit. She sounds just like a vic. “But he did, Avery. He raped your life. He tore your security and faith away.”

She shakes her head against me. “How can I be this fucked up when he didn’t even get that far? The whole time, no matter what he did, I kept telling myself that it wasn’t that bad, as long as he didn’t actually rape or kill me. That I was surviving.”

I pull her tighter to me. “You stayed strong. Avery, I can’t think of another woman who could’ve… You’re the strongest woman I know. God, before we got to you, I was terrified of finding the worst.” I brush her hair aside, my thumb wiping away the gathered tears under her eye. “Then I was amazed. You were still Avery. Even in the pit of hell, you lashed out against it. You defied it. And you were still that same, vibrant woman. You still are now.”

Her breath whispers past her lips, a soft exhale that draws me in. “I don’t feel so strong.”

My gaze travels over her face, and as she presses nearer, her eyes close. I can feel her breath against my mouth. Taste her, just once… A chorus thrums inside my head. I would covet that taste. I would worship this woman with one kiss and dispel every abhorrent lie festering inside her beautiful head—but it’s wrong.

I pull away just as she tilts her head back. I clear my throat, breaking the connection. Her eyes snap open.

“Sadistic shits like Simon feed off of weakness.” I draw back to look at her. “He couldn’t break you. You’re not broken. You’re here now because of that strength that he couldn’t tear down.”

She blinks. “Simon,” she says slowly, sounding out the word, as if it’s the first time she’s uttered her former lab tech’s name.

My brow furrows. “He wasn’t just a perp, Avery. He was someone you knew. Someone you trusted. It’s understandable that this process is even more difficult because of that fact.”

Releasing a strained breath, she nods. “You’re right. Of course.” She nods again, pushing herself even farther out of my grasp. “You should go. I should get some sleep.”

And suddenly, she’s too far away.

I run my palms over my slacks, then stand. “Right.”

Pieces start connecting, but I’m not sure I want them to. Avery is a colleague. I need to get that through my fucking head. I’m desperate to resurrect that very high wall I always keep in place. “But first. Is it safe?” I say, needing to know this much. “This aphrodisiac. Where are you getting it from?”

“God, Quinn. Yes, it’s safe. I engineered it.” She reaches over and grabs the baggie. “Most of the compounds are organic. It’s simple enough, really. But I did have to…”

I tilt my head. “Have to what?”

Her slim throat bobs on a swallow. “I needed something that I couldn’t get myself. It’s not bad. It’s just blacklisted by the FDA. It’s dumb, really. Damn activists.” She shakes her head.

“What?”

She hesitates, then: “I had to go through the darknet to obtain ambergris, which I in turn extracted and produced ambrein—the main ingredient in my cocktail.”

She might as well be speaking Greek. I know Avery’s smart, capable of more than simply determining cause of death for victims, but this just proves how the department takes her intelligence for granted.

“Sum it up for the old-school detective, Aves. Please.”

“Sperm whale vomit, Quinn.” She raises her eyebrows. “Okay? It sounds horrid, but it’s been used for centuries as incense and in perfumes. And it’s quite coveted now, damn near impossible to get, even though the contact I go through obtains it naturally. Collecting aged ambergris off the shore of Africa rather than extracting it violently. The way barbaric whale hunters do.”

“So you’re digesting whale vomit?” How the hell did we take this turn? “And you’re going through illegal channels to get it. This is dangerous—”

“You’re so…black and white. God, it never used to bother me before. I respect your methods, Quinn. But on this? You couldn’t be more wrong.” She stands then, decidedly ending our conversation.

Before I leave, I have to put away one last thing. “What’s the exchange?”

Her shoulders tense. With her back to me, she says, “Not money. My income doesn’t allow for such extravagance. So I have an arrangement.”

My cop hackles raise. “And the arrangement is…?”

She turns toward me. “I give them a cut of the mix.”

“You’re giving these people a powerful aphrodisiac to dispense at their will without even finding out what they’re doing with it?”

“It’s harmless,” she insists. “They get a less potent cocktail. It’s about as effective as porn. It doesn’t strip anybody of their will, Quinn. God, how could you even assume…after what I’ve been through?”