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CHAPTER

THREE

ASHER

T he 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.

“Hello?”

“Hey, John,” she said. “I can’t talk long. It’s super windy here and I have to get back to the lab, but I wanted to hear the verdict.”

The line was quiet for several long seconds.

She listened to the howl of a coyote from across the expanse of reddish sand, tufts of dry grass, and the occasional prickly pear cactus.

Still, John said nothing.

“Can you hear me? Should I try and go back inside?”

A sigh cut through the rustling wind.

“It’s not that, sis.”

“Then what?”

“I don’t like having to give you bad news.”

Karlin’s heart sank.

“Just spit it out.”

“I’ve been praying hard for this service dog. I really thought it was going to go through this time. But no. The Veteran’s Freedom Society won’t cover the cost. That was my last stop for finding funding. Maybe I read the signs wrong. Maybe it’s not God’s plan right now.”

Karlin gritted her teeth before she told her little brother what she thought of God’s opinion. Namely, that He should have intervened back in Afghanistan.

“Forget the VFS, the VA, all the rest. I’m gonna figure out a way to get that dog if it’s the last thing I do,” she said instead.

“Chill, Karl. It’s fine. I’ve managed this long without one.”

His words made her feel sick. He had not managed . Not at all. But she didn’t think reminding him of his lowest point would do him any good. Not to mention that it would only drag up yet another unpleasant memory that she was desperate to forget.

“I thought you’d agreed that nickname was dead at last,” she said breezily, hoping he couldn’t sense the hidden sadness and anger beneath her words.

“You need to let me help you. You’ve been doing better.

You haven’t drunk in what, five months? You’ve even been going to the gym again!

I don’t want you to stop making progress. ”

“I won’t. But a dog trained to assist with PTSD costs thousands of dollars. Therapy is expensive enough, not to mention the loony bin bill–”

“Don’t call it that.”

“Whatever I call it, you’re still paying for it, sis. Honestly, it makes me feel like a pathetic loser working part-time. I need to find a better job and pay my own way again.”

The wind was picking up, and this time, Karlin was thankful for the noise.

They’d had this fight too many times already.

John was trying to battle his demons, but mental health improvement took time, and it also took energy.

Energy he wouldn't have if he pushed himself harder at work than he was capable of right now.

“I gotta go, sorry, I can’t hear you,” Karlin nearly shouted into the phone as another helpful gust of wind whipped dust along the side of the building. “I’ll talk to you later! Bye!”

Without waiting for a reply, she hung up and shoved the phone back into her pocket before turning to head back inside.

If she could focus for another forty-five minutes, she could let herself call it a night. She’d gotten a lot done today, anyway. Maybe she could lay out the lab prep for tomorrow, that would give her a–

She stopped just short of the doorway.

“Ms. McKenna,” Dr. Daman Bajwa said mildly, pushing the glass door open for her with seemingly no effort. “Why are you out here in the cold? I need to talk to you.”