With Ties That Bind: Book 2 (The Broken Bonds 5)

She nods demurely, so precious, so soft.

“Of course you do. You listen.”

Her big brown eyes absorb my actions. She’s rapt by my words, gauging me, deciphering what I want so she can give it to me. This will work well for her later, when her owner demands something of her. In time, she’ll be able to predict his needs. Anticipate his desires.

And then, it will work not so well for me when he removes his business once she’s learned how to manipulate him. She may even attempt to kill him one night after she’s convinced him to trust her. Let her roam freely. Bring her to bed with him.

“It’s not a difficult thing to do; discovering what people want. What will give you access to their trust.” I help guide her into the water. “Even the most guarded person harbors the need to be known. It’s a basic human necessity—part of the id. We’re not born into this world alone; we’re designed at birth to crave interaction, and we depend on others to fulfill certain needs.”

I pump a dollop of shampoo onto my palm and then soothingly work it into her ratty hair. At first, she’s tense. Her eyes fight to stay open. She knows better than to give herself over to comforts, to let her guard down. But as I massage her scalp, tenderly lathering the shampoo into her hair, she relaxes. Her eyes drift shut.

“You’re extra perceptive to this,” I tell her. “You’ll use your instincts and wits to survive. Even prosper in your circumstance. You’ll become a favorite.”

“Then—” I rest my sudsy hands on her shoulders “—you’ll be tempted to want more.”

I push her below the water. Hold her under. Her arms and legs thrash at the water. Her body bucks and battles against my grip.

I bring her up. “I can’t have even one smart cunt tarnish my name and business.” I submerge her again.

I don’t just offer my clients a product; I offer them a superior product.

Broken and ready to be rebuilt to their own making.

When her fight begins to weaken, her grasp on my wrists going slack, I use my thumbs to pry her eyes open. She stares at me through the water, through her fear. She’ll never forget this feeling.

And, when I finally drag her above the water, gasping for air, tears blending with the water soaking her skin, I snatch her hair and haul her close. “Never forget who made you. You won’t ever belong to any of those men.” I kiss her lips affectionately. Stroke the fresh brand along her thigh.

“You’re mine. Always.”

12

Grave

Quinn

As a detective, I depend on particular skillsets to uncover the truth. I’ve honed my instincts to be extra perceptive. I pride myself in knowing when a perp is lying. I enjoy making them sweat, turning up the heat, watching them unravel.

Since the close of the serial killer case, I’ve been aware that not every convenient detail surrounding Simon Whitmore was as clear-cut as it was documented. Against my nature, I made a conscious choice to ignore the annoying points that didn’t quite line up. I postponed delving into the past in order to protect someone I care about.

It was the hardest choice of my career.

Sleepless nights plagued me as my brain churned the facts, trying to link Simon to Lyle Connelly. Yet deep down, I knew Sadie was the link—even if I had no evidence. She was hiding the variable that would tie their connection together.

That variable’s name was Price Wells.

He was the missing link.

That night in the hospital, when I sat beside Sadie, as we both waited to hear on Avery’s condition, I could’ve asked—and in that moment, Sadie would have told me the truth. But if she had, I would’ve been bound by my Oath of Honor to bring her actions to light.

I’ve been able to move forward by telling myself I didn’t pursue it because Sadie needed to be protected. I wanted—and still want—to believe she killed Connelly in self-defense.

We all lie to ourselves. That’s the real maddening truth.

And I’m the biggest liar of all. I believed I was carrying this burden for her. But selfishly, I didn’t want the full burden placed on me, to be the one to exhume the past and have the crippling truth stare me right in the face:

My partner is a killer.

I’m just as guilty as Sadie and Avery by my own omission.