Page 135 of Shadow

She leaned back and, yep, this felt like the perfect time to cry, really. Because she couldn’t ignore the way Asher had looked at her as they’d dragged her away.

Maybe he did love her.

But more, he hadn’t betrayed them. Not this time. His words kept returning to her. No matter what happens, no matter what you find out, no matter what comes next—you can trust me. I promise you that.

Yes.

Her bones believed him. Her heart believed him. It was just her head that had to catch up.

She closed her eyes.

And for some reason, she heard the words from Duke, spoken today, out by the fence. She hadn’t wanted to interrupt.

But she had listened.

Now, the words raked up inside her.

Your sins won’t keep Him from saving you. His love is bigger than your failures. And His plan for you is better than you can even imagine. You’re the only one who can hold back all God has for you.

How?

Asher had asked it, but she’d felt it.

By thinking you can handle it yourself.

Yeah, those words had sat inside her, burning.

Seemed like the only way to make sure things worked out, thank you very much. Rules. A plan. Safeguard and checkpoints and…

It’s the devil’s joke to make you think you can finagle your own happy ending.

And breaking the rules had given her a glimpse of everything she’d ever wanted.

Asher. And the crazy, beautiful, temporary-but-perfect fake life they’d had.

A hero worth holding on to, as Ruthie would say.

She wiped her cheeks with the palm of her hands.

And realized she’d been here before.

Not literally. Not locked in a closet while someone she cared about was taken to be murdered.

But emotionally. The darkness. The helplessness.

The anger.

She’d been here at sixteen. Standing at her father’s grave. Unable to forgive. Unable to understand how someone who’d promised to come home had chosen to chase suspects instead.

She’d been here at twenty-eight. When her partner had gotten a witness killed. When she’d left the Marshals, swearing she’d never depend on anyone again.

And she was here now. Thirty-one years old. Locked in a closet. Having trusted Asher Morrison despite every instinct. Having torn down walls.

The darkness wasn’t new. The hurt wasn’t new.

What was new was the memory of Duke’s voice, again in her head.

The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.