“Owen here,” came a deep, amused voice.
I swallowed hard.
“Hey. It’s Jude. You said you might have some work for me?”
There was a pause — then a warm chuckle.
“I knew you would call.”
Another pause.
“Come in tomorrow morning. We’ll find a place for you.”
I grinned for the first time all day.
I was starting over, and a new job was next on my list. Thank the Lord I didn’t have to stay at home. I would go crazy if I stayed home all the time.
I was building something new.
And when Cyclone came home, I wanted him to see that I was starting my new life with him, and that meant having a new job.
I wanted him to know that the woman he loved wasn’t broken anymore.
She was just getting started.
30
Jude
The building didn’t look like much from the outside.
Just a long, low structure tucked between a surf shop and a motorcycle garage, the windows shaded, no obvious signs that screamed “Private Investigator’s Office” to the world.
I kind of loved that.
It felt... safe.
Hidden, just like I used to be.
I wiped my palms on my jeans and pushed through the door.
Inside, it was all polished wood floors, black leather couches, and a massive desk that looked like it had seen its fair share of heated conversations.
The walls were covered in framed photos — old missions, news articles, commendations.
It smelled like coffee and something faintly metallic — gun oil, maybe.
It smelled like purpose.
“Well, look who showed up,” a voice called from behind the desk.
I turned to see Owen— tall, muscled, tattooed — grinning like he’d been expecting me all along. Even before I called him.
He tossed a file onto the desk and motioned me forward.
“Ready for your first test?”
I lifted my chin.