Page 88 of Three Steps Behind

“I just want you to know I see your strength and your bravery, and I know God is going to help you push through this and come out stronger.”

“But you?”

“I’m the one who let my siblings down.”

“How? You brought everyone together, and Ri said you led her to Christ.”

“After I abandoned her.” He shifted, linking his arms over his chest.

“She said you got her into a good children’s home until you could come get her.”

“Until I got my act together. If I’d stopped pulling gigs or taken her with me and raised her as my own . . .”

“You were fifteen, not an adult.”

“I wasn’t where I was supposed to be. I didn’t know Jesus until I was seventeen—going on eighteen.”

“Then you got her out and brought her home with you.”

“But I could have done it sooner if I wasn’t following in my parents’ footsteps.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to cover the moisture beading in his eyes. “If I’d been stronger . . .”

She scooted toward him, rubbing his knee. “You’re one of the strongest—if not the strongest—people I know. That’s why it’s so hard for me to struggle like this around you. I should be stronger.”

“You know I don’t believe that.”

“I know, but . . .”

“Hey.” He tipped his chin up. “I love you exactly as you are, and you are the strongest woman I know—and that’s saying something with Cool Whip around.”

She stared at him. “You think I’m stronger than Riley?”

He nodded.

“And did you just say . . . ?”

“What? Did I say something wrong?”

She tilted her head. “You love me?” Disbelief blanketed her face, and she scooted even closer. “You just said you love me.”

He cleared his throat. Moment of truth. “I do love you.”

She cupped his face—her hands warm, her touch tender. “I love you too.”

He jutted his chin back. “After what I just told you about me, about who I was in the past?”

“You are not your past, and, yes”—she held his gaze—“I love you,” she enunciated each word, then leaned closer and rubbed his jaw, before raising her lips to his.

He soaked in the moment, her movement soft and tentative at first, then she fell into him, deepening the kiss.

He reached up and ran his hands through her hair—slow and easy.

She murmured, and he deepened the kiss even more, pouring all his love into her. How she loved him, he didn’t know. But she did, and that was all that mattered . . . minus the people trying to kill them, but in this moment, all that faded away until it was just them.

Thirty-Five

BRISTOL SAT in Aubry’s apartment, awaiting her assignment for the day. As he had mentioned last night, his boss joined them today. The man exuded an overkill of testosterone and the need to show his superiority.

“All right,” Baxter said. “Where are the bugs?”