his head, “is the one thing I cannot do.”
“Fine.” John nodded, turning toward the door.
“Anything else,” Angelo added, “anything at all. I am at the Overseer’s disposal.”
John held at the door for a moment, hand resting on handle. Something compelled him to just keep going—to leave the room.
Angelo must have sensed the hesitation. “I know all about Trista Brightling.”
John took a long breath, trying to feel Angelo in the moment, but all that seemed to radiate off of him was a kind of garbled noise. Like television static in the mind.
John considered staying, wanting to stay. Wanting to hear what Angelo had to say, but something deep inside told him to escape.
“I know everything,” Angelo continued. “I—”
John opened the door and stepped into the hall and didn’t hear any more.
Vincent Sobel walked through the office toward the back room as John Temple was stepping out of the door. The night watchman was standing guard.
“What’s going on?” Vince asked brusquely. “Why did you call me in?”
John inclined his head toward the door as he explained. “There’s a man in there, Angelo, says he’s a Firstborn, but he sees past, present, and future. He helped save Hannah from the house fire. But tonight he attacked Devin and threatened Hannah, trying to keep them from fulfilling an assignment. The confrontation turned violent, and I was called in by Devin. Angelo was subdued with a Taser gun.”
Vince grimaced. “This guy beat the snot out of Devin Bathurst. Devin —tough as nails— Bathurst , and you brought him here? To the home office? That wasn’t wise, John.”
“I know,” John said, shaking his head in disgust. “I’m just a little distracted, that’s all.”
“Distracted?” Vince said, taking a seat next to John. “Distracted by what?”
John was quiet for a moment, staring out the window—like he always did when someone brought up something serious. He was quiet for a moment before he closed his eyes and hung his head. “Trista is getting engaged to someone else.”
Grow up , Vince thought. You’ve got a homicidal maniac on your hands, and you’re worried about a woman? “Mmm…” Vince nodded sympathetically. “John, it’s time to let her go.”
John didn’t move. “I know, I just—”
“No.” Vince shook his head. “There’s no ‘just.’ She’s moved on with her life. It’s time for you to do the same.”
“I just—”
Trista is so out of your league, you idiot , Vince thought, but he reached out a sympathetic hand, putting it on John’s arm. “John,” he said as tenderly as he could, “I’m worried about your ability to be Overseer right now.”
“What?” John said, head lifting suddenly.
Vince nodded. “You’re letting Trista distract you from God and your ability to make sound choices as leader of the Firstborn. Don’t you see that?”
“Do you really think…”
Vince stood, buttoning his suit jacket. “Yes, I do. You’ve let your obsession with Trista last too long. You don’t need any more distractions. It’s time to accept that it’s hurting you, your work, and ultimately the Firstborn.”
John stared at him for a moment. “Is it really that bad?”
“John, you’re acting pathetic,” Vince said with a loving nod and unbroken eye contact. John looked away. “Maybe it’s time to take a break. Reconnect with your faith and move on.”
John said nothing.
“Just think about it,” Vince added. “For now, let me talk to this Angelo. See if I can gain his trust. Good cop, bad cop, you know.” He winked.
“OK,” John mumbled.
Vince smiled and stepped out of the room.
John walked to the conference room windows and looked down at the street far below. He rested his forehead against the glass and closed his eyes.
Vince was right. He’d always been right. His obsession with Trista was pathetic. It was so un-Christian to make a woman that much of a priority in his life. Right?
John banged his
“Fine.” John nodded, turning toward the door.
“Anything else,” Angelo added, “anything at all. I am at the Overseer’s disposal.”
John held at the door for a moment, hand resting on handle. Something compelled him to just keep going—to leave the room.
Angelo must have sensed the hesitation. “I know all about Trista Brightling.”
John took a long breath, trying to feel Angelo in the moment, but all that seemed to radiate off of him was a kind of garbled noise. Like television static in the mind.
John considered staying, wanting to stay. Wanting to hear what Angelo had to say, but something deep inside told him to escape.
“I know everything,” Angelo continued. “I—”
John opened the door and stepped into the hall and didn’t hear any more.
Vincent Sobel walked through the office toward the back room as John Temple was stepping out of the door. The night watchman was standing guard.
“What’s going on?” Vince asked brusquely. “Why did you call me in?”
John inclined his head toward the door as he explained. “There’s a man in there, Angelo, says he’s a Firstborn, but he sees past, present, and future. He helped save Hannah from the house fire. But tonight he attacked Devin and threatened Hannah, trying to keep them from fulfilling an assignment. The confrontation turned violent, and I was called in by Devin. Angelo was subdued with a Taser gun.”
Vince grimaced. “This guy beat the snot out of Devin Bathurst. Devin —tough as nails— Bathurst , and you brought him here? To the home office? That wasn’t wise, John.”
“I know,” John said, shaking his head in disgust. “I’m just a little distracted, that’s all.”
“Distracted?” Vince said, taking a seat next to John. “Distracted by what?”
John was quiet for a moment, staring out the window—like he always did when someone brought up something serious. He was quiet for a moment before he closed his eyes and hung his head. “Trista is getting engaged to someone else.”
Grow up , Vince thought. You’ve got a homicidal maniac on your hands, and you’re worried about a woman? “Mmm…” Vince nodded sympathetically. “John, it’s time to let her go.”
John didn’t move. “I know, I just—”
“No.” Vince shook his head. “There’s no ‘just.’ She’s moved on with her life. It’s time for you to do the same.”
“I just—”
Trista is so out of your league, you idiot , Vince thought, but he reached out a sympathetic hand, putting it on John’s arm. “John,” he said as tenderly as he could, “I’m worried about your ability to be Overseer right now.”
“What?” John said, head lifting suddenly.
Vince nodded. “You’re letting Trista distract you from God and your ability to make sound choices as leader of the Firstborn. Don’t you see that?”
“Do you really think…”
Vince stood, buttoning his suit jacket. “Yes, I do. You’ve let your obsession with Trista last too long. You don’t need any more distractions. It’s time to accept that it’s hurting you, your work, and ultimately the Firstborn.”
John stared at him for a moment. “Is it really that bad?”
“John, you’re acting pathetic,” Vince said with a loving nod and unbroken eye contact. John looked away. “Maybe it’s time to take a break. Reconnect with your faith and move on.”
John said nothing.
“Just think about it,” Vince added. “For now, let me talk to this Angelo. See if I can gain his trust. Good cop, bad cop, you know.” He winked.
“OK,” John mumbled.
Vince smiled and stepped out of the room.
John walked to the conference room windows and looked down at the street far below. He rested his forehead against the glass and closed his eyes.
Vince was right. He’d always been right. His obsession with Trista was pathetic. It was so un-Christian to make a woman that much of a priority in his life. Right?
John banged his
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