Page 13 of Forged in Deception

Asher only paid half attention as they said their goodbyes, already getting lost in his thoughts about the challenge that lay ahead. He’d done everything he could to sound confident, but the truth was, he wasn’t sure he felt it. Gabe was almost certainly going to flip out on him for accepting a case without going through the proper channels or even asking him about it first, but he supposed he’d find a way to deal with that.

Still, his big brother would probably be the least of his problems. Taking on Senera wasn’t going to be easy, and this wasn’t going to be the sort of case that lent itself well to mistakes. He’d made enough of them during his time in private security, including a fairly massive one during the Fairman case.

His confidence wasn’t high at the moment.

Every day, he considered telling Gabe the whole truth about just how nervous he felt about his own abilities to hold himself together in the field. And every day, he decided to push through, hoping everything would just get better on its own.

He fiddled with the dog tag at his neck, sliding it back and forth along the chain as his thoughts wandered to places he did not want them to go.

Asher Forge had been part of plenty of screwups. But all of them paled in comparison to what had happened back in Afghanistan.

CHAPTER

SIX

ASHER

TWO WEEKS LATER

“I’m sorry, Mr. Forge. It appears your suitcase is on a flight to Honolulu at the moment, but we will recover it as soon as possible.”

Asher looked down at the diminutive woman manning the Amarillo Airport’s lost luggage desk, forcing a somewhat pleasant look onto his face. This particular airline had already lost his luggage on three different occasions. Once, they’d sent his suitcase to Malaysia, never to be seen again. But it wasn’t like this woman had anything to do with it. And at least he still had his gun case and his carry-on.

“I see,” he said instead, glancing over his shoulder in the general direction of the exit. “I’m in a bit of a hurry, but I’ll call with the address of where I’m staying.”

After spending a good thirty minutes sifting through several baggage carousels and another twenty in line to report hismissing luggage, he was already extremely late. Great first impression.

“Very good, sir,” the woman said, typing something into her computer. “Again, I apologize for the inconvenience.”

“No problem,” he said, hefting his army green duffel bag up higher on his shoulder. “Thanks.”

He gave the woman a quick wave and followed the exit signs, weaving between other passengers who seemed determined to take up as much of the hallway as possible.

This case was not getting off to a great start.

Just as he’d feared, Gabe had been angry at him for neglecting to follow his beloved procedures. What he hadn’t expected, however, was his brother’s refusal to take on the case in an official capacity. They handled pro-bono cases from time to time, but apparently when such a case involved Senera, it was too much of a risk.

Ben and Grace had been willing to help him work on a plan on his own, and he’d even gotten hold of his brother, Jacob, who encouraged him to help a woman in need despite the possibility that it could backfire.

Still, Gabe had made it crystal clear that Asher would be acting as a private citizen, and not an official representative of Forge Brothers Security.

No pressure.

Asher finally managed to weave past the throng of people, quickening his pace as he saw the automatic doors up ahead. Karlin was waiting here somewhere, and he had a feeling that she wasn’t going to be pleased with his tardiness.

He’d spoken to her exactly once within the last two weeks, and their conversation had quickly devolved into bickering. He’d told her the fake last name he planned to use, only for her to insist on a fake first name as well, which was total overkill.

A few steps ahead, he spotted a square piece of posterboard with “Axel Bishop” written neatly on it in black Sharpie.

Yeah, he’d lost that argument.

He didn’t have the chance to rekindle his annoyance, however.

The woman holding the sign was so gorgeous that he just about let his jaw fall open.

She was dressed simply, in black shoes, a pencil skirt, and a white blouse, but the simple office-casual look did nothing to tamper her good looks.

“Uh, hi,” he said quickly, extending his hand as his gun case bashed painfully against his hip bone. “Axel. Axel Bishop.”

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