Page 95 of Forged in Peril

“Not once,” he said, gripping the edge of the chair before his hand sought his own gun. “But we always try it anyway.”

BRISTOL

Tears pricked at Bristol’s eyes as she watched the scene unfold.

Despite the fact that Jaclyn was still gripping the gun, and now had it pointed directly at her, she felt more hope than she had in hours.

She’d been wrong about him.

He’d listened to her about the phone call, even though he hadn’t acted as she’d hoped at the time.

When it really counted, he’d figured out that something was up–and now he was here to get her out.

But her tears were not only of relief.

On the one hand, she trusted him completely. He’d know what to do. She wasn’t going to die, not so long as Cameron Forge was here to protect her.

But on the other hand, it was no longer just her own life she had to worry about, but his, too, as well as the rest of the FBS staff.

She swallowed hard, trying to make sense of the situation as Cameron and Jaclyn lapsed back into tense silence.

How much had he figured out? Did all of FBS know about the bomb, or was Cameron acting alone?

Cameron had come in here without a visible weapon to reason with Jaclyn, that much was clear, which gave her hope that the rest of the boys were nearby as backup.

But she also knew that there was no way the lawyer was going to listen to him.

There was a darkness in Jaclyn that she’d never seen before, not even on the face of Dillon Warrington as he violated her. His was a stupid evil, a weak evil, an evil of opportunity and impulsive lusts.

Jaclyn Mercier was playing for keeps.

“What can I say to make you see that you need to let her go?” Cameron asked Jaclyn. “You’re in control here. I’m listening to what you need, Jaclyn. But I hope you can help me, too.”

Jaclyn let out a sigh, her finger holding steady along the side of the trigger guard.

“I can’t let her go, Cameron,” she said. “You must see that.”

“Because she’s your leverage, right?” Cameron replied, sounding almost sympathetic. “You know that if you hand her over, your time will be up.”

Jaclyn nodded.

As Cameron leaned forward in his chair, his hands resting casually on his thighs, Bristol glimpsed his gun, stuck into the back of his jeans.

Her throat felt thick.

She didn’t want to imagine him actually using the gun, but she had no doubt that he would if he had to. For the moment, though, it seemed that he wanted to keep her talking.

Maybe she could help.

She drew a breath and thought about everything she’d been trying to avoid for the last several hours, letting the memories, plans, and hopes shift into her mind.

Two faces appeared again and again.

Her mother, and Cameron.

The tears that she’d been fighting to suppress began to fall, and she relished them.

Each salty droplet that touched her lips reminded her of just how much she still had to fight for.

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