Page 85 of Facing the Enemy

“When I say Trenton’s name, it confirms that he lives on in my heart. You don’t want to forget her, so don’t shy away from speaking her name.”

“Kara,” I whispered. “The mother of my child, who is out there somewhere.”

“Do you believe your child is in a good home?”

I studied Risa. She’d asked a tough question. “I don’t think I could survive if I didn’t believe two people love my child.”

“Is that a source of comfort?”

“Possibly, or is the comfort a way to cover up my guilt?”

“Only God can help you through that.”

“Risa, I might never be able to forgive myself. But I do want to be a father. When you asked me if I wanted children, it hit me that I’d waited too long to tell you the truth.”

She squeezed my arm. “Honesty brings us one step closer to healing and giving the tragedy to God.”

I remembered at Trenton’s funeral when she asked me when I’d gotten so wise. “Can we table the forgiveness and God-thing for now? I’m wrestling with it. Have been for years.”

“Of course. I have my own problems with forgiveness.”

“We’ll work through our issues together. The Bible says something about a strand of three cannot be broken,” I said.

She’d not let go of my arm since I started my story. “We’re a team. I’m in awe of the man you are today. Gage, as dreadful as your experience must have been, still is, you are incredible. I’ve seen youmentor new agents and encourage others. Every case we’ve investigated, you’ve shown caring and empathy. Forgiving ourselves for tragedies is hard, real hard. Thank you for trusting me with your secret.”

“Thank you for listening.”

I loved this woman. Wanted to protect her and make her mine until God called us home.

45

RISA

Gage insisted upon walking me to my room at the hotel and checking inside, although I had the skills to do a sweep and use cuffs. But he’d shared a personal story with me that had stalked him for years, and I wanted him to understand his past made no difference to me.

Once we finished a sweep of the small room, he turned to me. “Thanks again for listening about my past.”

“Love should be unconditional.” I ran my fingers through his thick, rust-brown hair. “We’ve seen each other broken, and we’re still moving ahead.” I took an inward breath of courage. “I’ll always be here for you.”

He placed his arm around my waist, and I leaned onto his shoulder. “Where are you now?” he said.

“No longer lost to God. He knew my misery all along, and He’s made it plain I haven’t been forgotten. My problem is I blame myself and God for Trenton’s death.”

“We could go to counseling together.”

I nodded. Lifted my gaze to meet his. His lips touched mine, a feather, a gentle deepening of the moment. I wrapped my arms around his neck and begged for the moment to last forever—my best friend and the man I loved.

“I’m scared,” I said.

He stroked my cheek. “Running down international killers without a firearm is easier than facing my feelings for you.”

I smiled. Sweet man. “Fear comes in all shapes and sizes.”

“This one is about five feet six, green eyes, and coffee-brown hair.”

“She’s harmless,” I said.

He laughed. “Not in my book. And if I don’t leave now, I might be here awhile.”