With Ties That Bind (The Broken Bonds 4)

“Good and evil. Yin and Yang,” she says. “One doesn’t exist without the other. We have to fight our way through that darkness in order to save the things we love the most.”

And as I follow her out of the room, I watch Colton greet Sadie in the hallway, immediately taking her into his arms. She belongs there.

I nod to him as I pass, noticing not for the first time how his features only seem to shift to a lighter countenance when she’s around. Otherwise, he’s every bit as intimidating as his size and striking dark features allude.

“You should come one night,” Sadie says before I leave the hallway.

I look around, trying to keep my smile in place. “I think this is a bit out of my depth.”

She shrugs. “The invitation is always open.”

“All right,” I say, and mean it. “Maybe one day soon.”

I leave them to adore each other in privacy, deciding I should’ve sought Sadie’s advice on my personal issues before I tried to invent a remedy of my own disastrous making. Had I simply come to The Lair, accepting a different approach, I might not have needed the ambrein at all.

It all feels so pointless now. My fucking sex life. So stupid.

Instead, I’ve not only put my own career in question, I’ve pulled my closest friend into this mess. I won’t let her take the blame, though. No matter what she says, Price Alexander Wells is mine to claim.

6

Torn

Quinn

Plundering through Maddox’s cases is like trying to sort through a pigsty. A dirty, slimy pigsty. The demented twists he represents and gets off of their charges is gnawing at my stomach. I have to eat nearly half a bottle of antacids just to get through the past three months in PACER. The public access records don’t hold all the info I need, but it’s a start.

This is why cops have to leave a case once we make a collar. The alternative to see a case through would drive us mad. I feel like I’m halfway there now.

I’ve somehow managed to make three rows on my board. Maddox’s colleagues. Maddox’s supervisors. And Maddox’s questionable clients. The client column is filling up fast.

When I go in to question the lawyer, I want to know everything about this prick. From when he got his first nut, down to the moment he started running for the District Attorney’s office.

I do all right with the behavioral bit. Enough to put together a decent profile of Maddox. But Sadie would knock it out of the park. She’d have this asshole nailed down before we even approached him.

I exhale a long breath and click a new window open on my laptop. It’s my call to bring her back. I know this. But I first need to sort my own bullshit. Working a case like this doesn’t leave a lot of time for that.

As if on cue, my phone vibrates in its holder. I unclip it from my belt and open the notification. 187 – Courthouse Metro District

Son of a bitch.

I grab my coat, quickly putting away my research on Maddox before I head out. My gut says it’s another pro. It’s in the same general area, which is starting to form a pattern.

Carson’s waiting for me at the front of the bullpen. “Am I riding with you?”

In just under two decades, I’ve had exactly two partners. I learned early on in my rookie detective years that I worked better alone. The first partner moved up quickly through the ranks, making it easy. The second… Well, even before it was official, Sadie was my partner from day one. When you click with someone on a professional level and come to depend on their insight, it just happens naturally.

Regardless of my reservations as to where that partnership stands between us now, I’m not seeking a substitution. Carson’s a skilled detective for his age, but he’s also a weasel. And no one’s weaseling their way into Sadie’s spot.

“Take your own car,” I say as I walk past.

I glimpse the disappointment on his face and damn. I still have a fucking soft spot for the rookies. “We might need to split up once we get an ID,” I add, just to give the guy a break.

“Right,” he says, grabbing his keys.

I lead the way there, flipping on my blue and reds without the siren once I pull up to the crime scene. Another alley, another body dump. But this time, the perp didn’t bother to try to dispose of the body. I spot the vic from inside my car. Her body tucked closely to the brick wall of the building.

As I head toward the unis yellow-taping the scene, Carson comes up beside me. “Different MO? He didn’t discard the body. Maybe this perp wants us to know what he’s done.”