Page 103 of Forged in Steele

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“Don’t even think about it,” Reya said.

“Think about what?” Bristol played innocent though she’d been looking for a way out of the cabin while sitting in the hard oak chair as Reya held a gun on her.

“Escaping.” She jabbed a finger at the windows. “I nailed them shut. Added a reinforced lock on the door. And I’m not sleeping. Ever. No one is taking my baby. Not again. Not ever again.” Reya was losing even more of her already fragile hold on life as the minutes ticked by.

Bristol wished she were imagining it, but the wild look in Reya’s eyes, along with her babbling while she fidgeted in place across the room from Bristol, told her as much. As did the way she’d dispassionately ended the man’s life in the driveway.

The sound of the gun discharge. The thud of the body. His eyes wide but unseeing. All of it echoed through Bristol’s brain.

Father, please. I’m trusting You. I know I’ve been lost since Thomas died, but I know Your will will be done here. I can only ask that Luna will live and be returned to her family.

Bristol stared at the pine walls and ceiling. Searching. Looking. Seeking. The A-frame ceiling sloping to the ground seemed to close in on her. More likely the murder or the gun constantly pointed in her direction was the reason for Bristol’s uncertainty.

“What do you plan to do with me?” Bristol really didn’t want to hear the answer, but she had to ask.

“You’ll stay with me as long as you’re useful.”

“Useful, how?”

“Maybe the cops will find out where I am, and they’ll come for me. I can use you as a hostage.”

At least she didn’t have plans to kill Bristol right now. But she would soon tire of holding the gun. Maybe when Luna woke up to be fed, Reya would realize she couldn’t keep the gun on Bristol and feed the baby too. Maybe she would tie Bristol up then. If Reya did bind Bristol’s hands, she would have less of a chance to escape.

Bristol glanced at the wall clock. They’d been at the cabin for nearly two hours. Bristol wanted to make noise to wake the baby up so she could eat.

Reya suddenly shifted toward the window. “Did you hear that?”

“What?”

“Crunching on the gravel. I need better protection.” She backed across the open kitchen to the countertop holding a black padded gun case. She opened it, displaying multiple handguns.

“I didn’t know you were so into guns,” Bristol said.

“I’m not, but Valerie was. She was crazy about guns. Told me this one had the most bullets in it.” She lifted out a Springfield XDS 9mm, one of Bristol’s most often used guns.

Reya aimed it at Bristol and pretended to shoot it then laughed and flipped off the overhead light. The room was draped in darkness, but a shaft of moonlight flowed through the window over the sink and over Bristol.

“Don’t think I can’t still see you,” Reya said. “I can and my gun is pointed at you.”

Bristol wanted to get up and charge Reya. She sat on her hands instead and listened.

“Do you hear anything?” Reya asked.

“No.” Which Bristol would continue to say even if she heard a sound outside.

“There. Footsteps. I’m sure I heard them.”

Bristol heard the steps too, and her heart leapt. Could it be Jared? Did he find her?

Was he walking into a trap?

Jared lifted his hand telling Reed to stop. His partner eased closer to Jared. They’d both seen the light that had shone from the right window go dark.

“You think they went to bed or made us?” Reed’s tone wasn’t more than a whisper.

“We have to assume we’ve been made.” Jared hated the thought.

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