Page 11 of Deadly Hope
“Because I understand what’s at stake.” He gestured to her credentials, the carefully created environment. “You’ve built something important here. A safe space. We want to help you protect it, not compromise it.” He thought of hisown team, how many of them could have benefited from someone like her, if they’d ever let their guards down enough to try.
She considered his words, clearly thinking of her patients. “And Knight Tactical would respect those boundaries?”
“Absolutely. We play by your rules.” He allowed himself a slight smile. “Believe it or not, we do understand the importance of maintaining professional trust.”
He watched her internal struggle, recognizing the battle between training and instinct. The professional trying to maintain boundaries versus the woman who’d just faced danger at his side. He knew that battle too well.
“I’ll consider a consultation. Tomorrow.”
“I can have a team?—”
“Tomorrow,” she repeated firmly, and he recognized the need for space, for processing. “I need to think this through when my hands aren’t still shaking.”
He nodded, respecting her boundaries while fighting his own instinct to protect. “First thing? I’d feel better knowing you have proper security in place.”
“I’ll be fine tonight. Despite recent evidence to the contrary, I actually can take care of myself.”
“Oh, I’m well aware.” The admiration in his voice was unprofessional, but honest. He’d seen her in action, after all.
Didn’t mean he’d be leaving her unguarded, whatever she thought.
“Tomorrow then.” He moved toward the door, warring with himself before adding, “I’m walking you to your car.”
“I’m parked right below, I’ll be?—”
“Not negotiable.” He kept his tone gentle but firm, needing her to understand. “After what just happened, humor me.”
The walk down was silent, charged with things neither ofthem could afford to acknowledge. He checked her car thoroughly—old habits—before stepping back.
“Drive safe,” he said quietly. “And Olivia?” Her name felt right on his tongue, even though it shouldn’t. “Lock up carefully tonight.”
“I will.” She hesitated before adding, “And ... thank you. For today.”
“Just doing my job.” The lie tasted bitter. Nothing about his reaction to her was just business.
He watched until her car disappeared around the corner, then did another perimeter check before heading to his SUV. Tomorrow they’d establish professional boundaries. Tomorrow he’d remember all the reasons he shouldn’t notice how her eyes changed color in different lights, or how naturally they’d moved together during the attack.
Tonight, he’d do what he did best—secure the area, protect his charge, and absolutely not think about how right it had felt to fight at her side.
7
The third copcar in an hour crawled past Axel’s hiding spot, their spotlight sweeping the quiet suburban street. Amateur hour. If they’d actually wanted to catch someone watching Olivia’s house, they would have noticed him tucked between the evergreens at the back of the vacant lot across the street, his blacked-out SUV maintaining a perfect sightline to her front door.
The team had taken it better than expected when he’d briefed them. No jokes, no pushback—just that focused silence he recognized from mission prep. Even Kenji had dropped his usual swagger. “We’ll meet her tomorrow,” Deke had said, already pulling up building plans for her office. “Full security assessment, the works.”
Five degrees, and dropping. His breath fogged the windshield each time he exhaled.
Snow drifted in lazy spirals, catching moonlight before settling on the deserted suburban streets. Low clouds scudded across the night sky, their shadows playing tricks with depth perception—something that had saved his life more than once in other dark places. Here, the shiftingpatterns just made it harder to maintain his sight picture on Olivia’s front door.
He did another equipment check, more from ingrained habit than necessity. Knight Tactical’s winter gear was top-of-the-line: thermal base layers designed for Arctic conditions, heavy-duty gloves with touchscreen capability, watch cap that wouldn’t compress his earpiece. He’d rigged a portable heater to run off powerful auxiliary batteries. No need to risk the engine noise or exhaust signature by keeping the truck running all night.
The small cab was starting to feel like a command post: thermos of coffee within easy reach, along with a handful of protein bars and a half-eaten turkey sandwich from the deli near the office. Two bottles of electrolyte drink because dehydration was every bit as dangerous as hypothermia during long surveillance. Everything arranged for maximum efficiency with minimum movement.
He double-checked his comms setup—earpiece synced to his phone, backup power bank, and the encrypted channel to his team, if needed. Which it wouldn’t be. The team would not be happy if they knew he was here alone, on an unauthorized surveillance op. Deke especially would call him out for playing white knight—right before offering to take the next shift.
Axel adjusted the small infrared sensor he’d mounted on the dash, angling it for a better view of Olivia’s side yard. The feed displayed crisp and clear on his phone—no blind spots where someone could slip through. He’d positioned three more around the perimeter of her property earlier. The cops hadn’t noticed those either. Or the long sweeps through the snow where he’d dusted away his footprints.
The night vision monocular rested in its case on the passenger seat, along with his backup sidearm. His primaryweapon stayed holstered, close but comfortable. Some habits you didn’t break, even on unofficial protection detail.
