Page 14 of Deadly Hope
Not private therapists who lived in regular suburban houses and lived regular suburban lives.
The memory of Axel’s steady presence during the attack flickered through her mind, bringing unexpected warmth. She pushed the feeling aside. This wasn’t the time to get flustered over a man she barely knew, no matter how capable he’d proved.
Movement caught her eye through the kitchen window. Her side gate swung gently in the wind, wide open. Her heart slammed against her ribs as she froze, coffee mug halfway to her lips. She’d locked that gate. She distinctly remembered checking it twice before bed.
Her hand shook as she reached for her phone. Should she call the police? Axel? But as she pressed closer to the window, she could see the pristine blanket of snow in her side yard—unmarked except for the delicate trails of birds and what looked like a rabbit. No footprints. No sign of intrusion. Just the wind, she told herself, forcing her breathing to slow. Just the wind catching a gate she must not have latched properly in her distraction.
Still, she double-checked every lock before leaving the house. Her gaze barely left the rearview mirror the entire way to the Hope Landing airport.
A private road wound through pine trees before opening onto Knight Tactical’s compound at the eastern edge of the airport complex. Her grip tightened on her steering wheel at the sight of two massive aircraft hangars, their steel and glassfaces gleaming in the morning sun. A sleek corporate jet taxied past, its engines a distant purr. Beyond it, a helicopter’s rotors caught the light, and what looked like a small fleet of aircraft—everything from private planes to what might have been military surplus—lined the tarmac.
Axel was waiting by her car before she even cut the engine, his tall frame casually leaned against one of the hangar’s support pillars. The morning sun caught the planes behind him, creating an oddly cinematic backdrop of gleaming aircraft and mountain views.
“Sleep okay?” he asked quietly as she approached, his eyes taking in her turtleneck with understanding. When she just shrugged, his mouth tightened briefly before he forced a lighter tone. “Ready to meet the team? Don’t worry, they only bite on Tuesdays.”
“It’s Tuesday,” she pointed out.
“Ah. Well then.” His grin was unexpected and warm. “Stay close.”
Inside, the space managed to feel both industrial and elegant—polished concrete floors, exposed steel beams, and state-of-the-art everything. The smell of jet fuel and coffee mingled in the air.
“Dr. Kane.” A man who could have been Axel’s brother stepped forward. “I’m Ronan Quinn.” His handshake was carefully modulated, his green eyes noting her injuries with quiet concern.
“Welcome to the circus,” rumbled a deep voice. “Deke Williams.” The huge man moved with surprising grace for his size, his dark skin gleaming with health, his smile infectious.
He jerked a huge thumb at the petite woman beside him. “Izzy Reyes. The woman’s magic with machinery.”
“Ignore him, he thinks he’s funny.” Izzy’s coverall sleeves were rolled up to show intricate tattoos, and grease smudgescouldn’t hide her natural beauty. Her Spanish accent was slight but musical.
“She really is magic though,” Axel stage-whispered to Olivia. “Once saw her fix a helicopter with duct tape and spite.”
“That was one time!” Izzy protested.
The dark-haired beauty Axel introduced as Zara Khoury remained slightly apart, her olive complexion pale. Something about her dark eyes and careful movements suggested hidden depths.
“Hey, Dr. Kane. I’m Dr. Marshall. But call me Kenji.” His grin matched his slim, agile frame as he spun a tactical pen between his fingers.
Izzy groaned, rolling her eyes hard. “He just loves that Dr. Dr. stuff.”
“Of course, I do.” Kenji winked at Olivia. “Call it a perk of the job.”
“Ignore him,” Axel advised. “We all do.”
“You wound me, Reinhardt!”
“And that’s Griff Hawkins,” Axel finished. “Our resident ghost.”
Griff nodded from his position near a bank of monitors, his medium build and pleasant-but-forgettable features belied by an intensity that made her look twice.
Olivia looked around at the assembled team, feeling something shift inside her. She’d come here determined to politely decline their help, to handle this on her own as she always did. But watching them—Deke’s easy confidence, Izzy’s sharp intelligence, Zara’s quiet vigilance, Kenji’s quick mind behind the jokes, Griff’s watchful presence, and Ronan’s steady authority—she realized these weren’t just security professionals. They were a seamless unit, each person’s strengths complementing the others’. The kind ofteam that could protect dignitaries and defuse international crises without breaking a sweat.
And they were all focused on helping her.
Maybe, just this once, she didn’t have to be the strong one. Maybe accepting help from people this capable wasn’t weakness—it was wisdom.
If she could let down her guard. And let them in.
9
