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I look down at my lap, the hospital bracelet circling my wrist. I twirl it, my thoughts muddled. “Then why—?”
“You’ll have to ask him.” She sits down beside me. “I’ve come for an entirely different reason. I’m not here to comfort you, Avery. I’m not going to tell you lies about how therapy will help, about how time will heal you. That all you need to do is be strong and fight your demons.”
“Damn,” I say, a breathy laugh escaping. “Don’t sugarcoat it.”
“I won’t.” Her eyes lock with mine; hers unblinking and lit with a surreal gleam that chills me to my bones. “We only discuss this once. From here on out, no matter what you decide, it stays here. Between us.”
I should be terrified. This is not the Sadie I know. The woman sitting before me now is cold and methodical, and what she whispers to me in the dark corridor of the hospital should send me fleeing in horror. But as she continues, telling me about a man sitting at a bar, her plan for this man…an eerie calm envelops me, soothing away any trace of fear. Her voice drifts to me, lulling me into a welcome camaraderie, and for the first time since I was plucked from the hellish bowels of The Countess, I feel as if I can take a breath without fearing my own screams.
I make the pact.
It’s as simple as slicing open a dead body…which I’ve done many times over. Then all the fear, the panic, the screams—it all ends. That is the control over my life Sadie grants me in this moment, and I cling to it like a life raft. I crave it so deeply, I’m willing to sell my soul for it.
And so I do.
When I climb back into the hospital bed, I’m no longer the same woman Quinn hauled from that dungeon. I’m not fixed; far from it. But I feel stronger. Only as I go to lay my hand in his…I halt.
Quinn can never know.
Sadie’s warning is more than common sense; it’s a test.
One that I’m bound to fail if I let myself fall for the detective who’s held my hand through the screams and sheltered me from the dark. All done in secrecy, because these are not things done in the light, where we must own to our desires.
So now I have a secret, too. I slip my hand into his large, rough one and c
url up next to his strong arm, savoring the feel of his comfort for the last time.
2
Game Changer
Detective Ethan Quinn
Arlington, Virginia is on the map.
And not in a good way. Not that it wasn’t already well known—what, with the National Cemetery and the Pentagon, and DC right across the river. But it’s always been a peaceful sort of city. A short drive for politicians and other DC types alike to escape to.
It won’t ever be the same.
My city is a blister, an eyesore, a blemish on the face of the country. Even after nearly a month, social media is still buzzing with reports of the serial killings. There’s even a hashtag for the Arlington Slasher. A dead serial killer has his own fucking hashtag.
What the hell.
Every day that I walk through the ACPD doors, I try to put the case behind me. It’s time to move on, but that blister just keeps eating away. It’s a festering pus pocket of self-loathing right in the pit of my stomach.
I pop an antacid, chewing on my right side. I’m still not used to the gap from my missing—stolen—tooth. Fuck Simon Whitmore. AKA the Arlington Slasher. AKA the Blood Count. I can’t believe a damn lab geek got the better of me. How the hell did a demented twist like Simon elude us for as long as he did?
Simon’s own words stated he was an apprentice to Lyle Connelly—a person of interest in one of the first cases Sadie and I worked together—and it’s possible Simon learned a thing or two from his master. But without me having any access to Connelly himself, having to trust in Sadie’s profile, I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to accept this outcome. It’s just that all the pieces don’t align. And I need the puzzle neat and exact to let it rest for good.
But it won’t ever match up. And one of the main reasons for that?
Me.
If I start to dig, if I try to unearth the whole truth, I have to come clean about my role.
We all did what we had to in order to rescue Avery Johnson. Even me. I made a bargain with myself the night I followed Sadie to the memorial. I knew the consequences. I looked them square in the eye and told them to fuck off.
I made the right call. At least, I made the call I had to in order to protect Sadie—to look out for my partner.
