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I can’t recall who first told me that omission is just a convenient form of betrayal—but it’s as true now as ever, and it’s time to stop lying.

I’ve been parked out front of the precinct for half an hour, contemplating, deciding my next action. I left my apartment this morning before Avery awoke. Left her a box of green tea and honey that I picked up for her on the counter. With a note:

Don’t leave until your detail arrives to escort you to work.

Bitter, chaste. Strictly business. The words of a colleague and not a lover. Not even a friend. Part of me—the part that stopped Sadie from revealing the truth—wanted to crawl into bed with Avery last night and make love to her until her pain fled. Chase away her darkness. Reassure her that I’ll always protect her.

But the part of me that took an oath all those years ago couldn’t give in so easily. I’m a bastard, I know. Who turns their back on the woman they love after she just confessed her sins? Hell, after she confessed she loved me.

I’m a fucking bastard.

I touch the folded letter tucked in my coat pocket. I think about pulling it out, reading it again. Instead, I drop my hand, leaving Avery’s words to fester right next to my heart.

She must have been half delirious with exhaustion when she wrote it. What does she want me to do? Turn it in? Let her take the whole wrap for Wells?

If I was half the man she needs…I’d tear the letter up. Burn it. Stomp on the ashes.

Hell, it’s not a true confession, anyway. It’s fabricated. Meant to protect Sadie. I don’t need my keen detective skills to decipher the lies, but they help.

They help so well I can suss out just what role Sadie did play. Without Sadie, Avery never would’ve known who her true abductor was—she wouldn’t be suffering the torment she’s suffering now. Her conscience tearing her apart. Had Sadie not taken the law into her own hands, and had come to me with the truth, Wells would be in prison. Avery would be safe. And the only one in danger of their past would be Sadie.

Shit. I’ve fucking come full circle.

A knock on my window drags me out of my self-loathing, and I turn to see Carson standing beside my car. His glum expression sums up how all of this has gone to shit. I motion for him to back away as I open the door and step out, well aware of what he’s about to ask. He’s been blowing up my phone all morning.

“I’m not turning you in. Yet,” I tell him, and the tension in his shoulders immediately diminishes.

“Thank you, Detective Quinn. But…why not?” He’s dressed like he’s applying for his first job. White dress shirt starched. Slacks ironed. He came in prepared to fight for his job. Ready to impress me.

Good. He should be on point, but in all honesty, after I left Avery in my bed last night, the thought of Carson being the department leak hasn’t crossed my mind once. And if I report him now, I’ll have to make a firm decision on my own culpable actions.

That’s not why I’m here.

“Contrary to popular belief,” I say, “I do give more than one chance, Carson. You’re a good detective with some bad habits.” I stare down at him. “That’s a recipe for a dirty cop.”

“I know,” he says, lowering his gaze. “I have been getting help. You know, for the gambling.”

He can’t look me in the eye. He’s lying, but right now, there’s bigger issues than his personal problems to conquer. “Just don’t make me regret it.”

When his eyes meet mine, I at least know he means to try. “I won’t, boss.” He rubs the back of his neck, glancing around. “Any word on tonight?”

I direct my gaze on the precinct. “I’ll know in about ten minutes.”

Carson wasn’t exaggerating when he said the department was crawling with black suits. The FBI Organized Crime Division has their own damn headquarters not ten miles away, and yet they’ve taken over my department.

The turf invaders are using our resources. But why?

I halt Carson with the back of my hand to his chest. “The bond hearing yesterday – what happened during the questioning?”

Carson’s features pull together. “There was no questioning. Shit. Avery said not to tell you—”

I cross my arms, eyes narrowed hard on him.

He scratches the back of his head, as if he’s digging the answers out. “The perps are out on bond. Maddox got them out on some bullshit claim of accidental imprisonment. Stating according to them, Avery was already inside the van when they ‘borrowed’ it.”

Anger spikes my blood. The pieces all trickle down from there. During the hearing, Avery will have to testify to the fact she was kidnapped from the lab. Maddox and his slimy clients are counting on her not doing so, because the Alph

a is threatening to expose her for altering evidence on Wells’ death. Maybe even try to frame her for his murder.


Tags: Trisha Wolfe The Broken Bonds Dark