Page 5 of Forged in Deception

Sometimes, Karlin believed his hype, but she often found his eager speeches in the lab to feel a little too forced, his beaming smile a little too wide. It set her teeth on edge, and it kept her from ever feeling comfortable in her role.

Some part of her was always wondering about what it would be like to be somewhere else. Somewhere she could breathe.

But however she felt about the direction Bajwa was taking, she knew one thing better than almost anyone else working at Senera.

At the cutting edge of mental health research, errors in judgment could be deadly.

And they could also get her fired, sued, or thrown in jail.

CHAPTER

THREE

ASHER

The halls of Forge Brothers Security were quiet, even for a Sunday.

Though official company policy was to observe the traditional day of rest and worship, it was rare to find the place truly empty. As Asher made his way to his oldest brother’s fifth floor office to retrieve the files he needed, he knocked on the edge of the doorframe out of habit before entering.

The expansive windows looked out at the busy streets of downtown San Antonio, though thanks to the thick glass, Asher could hear nothing but the gentle buzz of the air conditioning.

Even though he was supposed to be there, he couldn’t help but feel slightly ill at ease in the oppressive silence. The sterile tidiness of Gabe’s office wasn’t exactly inviting. Everything in it was white, gray, or black–not that there was any clutter to speak of. Honestly, the place reminded him more than a little of the San Antonio morgue.

Asher crossed the short distance to the large metal filing cabinet along the side wall, taking all of five seconds to locate the correct file before making a beeline back toward the door.

Had it been anyone else, he would have stopped to snoop a little in search of a late afternoon snack. With Gabe, though, he knew he’d probably find nothing but plain water, plain chicken, and salad greens in the mini fridge. Certainly there would be nothing worth spending another two minutes in the cold, lonely corner office looking for.

As he waited for the elevator to bring him back to the first floor, he heard his phone buzzing in the pocket of his jeans. When he looked down at the caller ID, however, he couldn’t help but to curl the side of his lip in disgust.

He silenced the call and stepped out into the lobby of FBS, watching as a dozen or so people filed past the front windows in the fading sunlight, couples laughing and pausing for kisses as they rushed to catch their dinner reservations along the famous River Walk.

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly as he turned down the hall that led toward his office. Between Reilly and Lauren, Cameron and Bristol, and Ben and Grace, he had seen enough PDA to make him V-O-M-I-T.

He was happy for his brothers, but after the experiences he’d had with women–most of them embarrassingly regrettable–he was in no hurry to follow in their footsteps.

Just then, he felt the annoying buzz of his cell phone again.

Sure enough, it was the Veteran’s Freedom Society continuing to pester him.

Nowhere to be found when his fellow soldiers were desperate for help, but pathologically unable to leave him alone.

He settled down in his worn leather office chair, swiped several random papers out of the way, and plunked the Fairman file down on his desk.

The voicemail notification pinged.

With another, less good-natured eye roll, Asher hit speaker and let the message play.

Hello Mr. Forge, I’m sorry we missed you! We apologize for calling on a Sunday, but we wanted to make sure you knew about our virtual town hall meeting. It will be a good opportunity for you to voice your concerns as well as to connect with others who share a similar background. We want to know how we can better serve those suffering from combat-related trauma. Please get back to us at–

Asher hung up the phone and sat in silence for a moment, fiddling with the smooth metal of the dog tag necklace he still wore, considering not for the first time if he should toss it out the window.

He didn’t need to talk about his feelings with some pencil-pusher who had never stepped foot on Afghan sand. That was all in the past. He was fine now.

And he’d be even more fine if they would just leave him alone.

KARLIN

Even after a decade of living in Amarillo, the chill of desert evenings in autumn still managed to take Karlin by surprise. She pulled her lab coat more tightly around herself and drew out her phone, trying to read what was on the screen as the wind whipped strands of auburn hair into her eyes. It was almost seven o’clock, and her brother’s meeting had ended at least half an hour ago.

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