Page 72 of Forged in Steele

Jared fell back in his chair as if defeated. Yeah, she’d caused him to collapse. Defeat weighed heavy on her too. She wanted to trust him. Trust God.

Help me to trust You again, please.

Jared’s phone dinged, and he grabbed it as if it were a lifeline. “It’s one of the backup agents staking out our house.”

Bristol had forgotten all about the team of agents watching the house in case they should need backup.

Not a good thing to do.

“And?” she asked.

Jared lifted his head, and their gazes connected. “And it looks like we have company.”

Jared’s first response had been to grab his weapon and check the ammo. He didn’t. The last thing he needed to do was add to the worry on Bristol’s face while they ate. The strain remained in place through the whole meal and even as she carried dirty dishes to the counter.

He needed to do something to help alleviate it. He put his plate and silverware in the dishwasher, the clanking echoing in the room. “Remember we thought Holloway might send someone to watch the house. To verify we’re legit. That’s likely all it is.”

“Yeah,” she said, but didn’t sound convinced.

“I’d suggest we go make out in front of the window and put on a show for them,” he said, making sure his tone was lighthearted. “But I know that would make you even more nervous, and I definitely don’t want that.”

She spun to look at him, anguish radiating from her eyes. “How could you leave me back then?”

Her pain cut into his heart, and it mixed with shock at the change in topic. He was responsible for her pain. Not Holloway’s men at the road. Him.

So what did he say? What could he say?

“Looking back at it, I don’t know,” he started, hoping the words would come. “I guess when I was younger, I was much more impacted by trying to be everything my family wasn’t.”

“And what?” She fired an accusatory look at him. “Being with me somehow was the same as being with your superficial family?”

“No. Not at all. I foolishly thought the relationship just stood in the way of becoming the guy I wanted to be. To serve. To be useful and needed. Not superficial like you said.”

She sighed. “I don’t pretend that I get that because I grew up living a life of service.”

“Trust me when I say without it, life is empty. Even if my family makes it seem like they’re happy, they’re all still searching for the next great thing when it’s right there in front of them.” Thoughts of the way they chose to live made him frown. “I continue to work hard to invite them to church and get them involved in something.”

“And have you succeeded?” Her anguished expression had seemed to brighten just a bit.

“The best I’ve done was get them to serve at a soup kitchen. Unfortunately, they just used it as a photo-op for social media and to build up their self-serving status.”

She touched his arm. “I’m sorry, Jared. Like I said, I don’t know how it feels. I can try to imagine it, and I guess that can help me forgive and forget our past.”

Was there hope for them? Could there be hope? He had to know. “So do you forgive me for being an immature jerk?”

“I forgive you for leaving. The rest, I’m not sure about.” She winked and put the last plate in the dishwasher. “Why don’t you go play your guitar and relax for a while?”

Right. She was trying to lighten a situation that had become very heavy—or maybe even get rid of him. That left his heart heavier than the anchors he’d once dropped on huge Navy ships.

15

The doorbell rang at nine a.m. sharp.

Bristol expected the visitor, but she still jumped up from the couch where she and Jared had been anxiously waiting for the last thirty minutes. She glanced around to be sure they hadn’t left anything out that would give away their real identities. They’d locked all of their information for the investigation and computers in his trunk well in advance of the woman’s arrival. They had no idea how much she might snoop on Holloway’s behalf, and they had to be prepared to maintain their undercover personas.

“Relax.” Jared headed for the door. He wore another one of his sharp suits, a deep blue with very subtle stripes. “We’ll be fine. If she asks a question we haven’t discussed, don’t answer, and I will. I’ll do the same for you.”

Bristol strode behind him to the door. He opened it to a tall, lanky woman with a clipboard in hand. She had obviously dyed black hair, the opposite of what you might find with her fair complexion. Her lips were colored with a vibrant red lipstick.

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