Page 10 of Fierce Hope
The burger’s aroma, so appealing moments ago, now turned her stomach. She grabbed the note with trembling fingers, fighting the urge to crumple it, to burn it, to destroy this tangible proof that her carefully constructed safety was nothing but an illusion.
But she couldn’t. She needed evidence. Needed to think clearly. Needed to?—
A sound in the hallway made her freeze.
Footsteps?
Or just her paranoia, growing louder with each passing second?
Her training kicked in like muscle memory. Not the kind you learn in self-defense classes—the kind you learn surviving on streets where trust is a luxury and help always comes with strings attached.
She moved through her condo with precise efficiency, gathering scattered papers, reorganizing files. Her movements were calm, deliberate. Anyone watching would see a woman tidying up, not someone whose sanctuary had just been violated.
She tucked the threatening note into a manila envelope, filed it with the others. Three now. Each one a reminder that her past wasn’t as buried as she’d hoped.
As she straightened the throw blanket—folding it properly this time, her way—her thoughts drifted to Deke Williams. The way he carried himself, like a man who knew exactly who he was and what he was capable of. She’d seen him with DJ today, had caught glimpses of the fierce protectiveness beneath his careful control.
Knight Tactical operators were legendary in Hope Landing. Not just security, but guardian angels for those who needed them. She’d heard the stories at church, seen the way people relaxed when one of them was around.
Deke would know what to do. She could picture him standing in her condo, those sharp eyes taking everything in, that quiet strength wrapping around her like armor ...
But he’d ask questions. Questions she didn’t want to answer.
She’d caught him watching her today, had felt the weight of his attention like a physical touch. He saw too much already. The way he looked at her sometimes, like he was trying to read between lines she’d carefully erased—it terrified her almost as much as these notes.
No. She couldn’t risk it. Couldn’t risk him discovering who she really was. What she’d done.
Better to handle this alone. She was good at alone. Had survived worse alone.
But as she finished restoring order to her violated space, her hands still trembling slightly, she couldn’t quite shake the image of Deke’s steady presence, or the treacherous whisper in her heart that wondered what it would be like to let someone else carry this weight along with her.
To let someone in.
To be protected, instead of always protecting herself.
Jade stood in the middle of her now-pristine living room, hands clenched at her sides. The fear was still there, churning inher gut, but something else rose alongside it. Something harder. Colder.
Anger.
They wanted her scared. Wanted her looking over her shoulder, jumping at shadows. Wanted her to feel small and powerless, like that terrified girl she’d been all those years ago.
But she wasn’t that girl anymore.
She crossed to her window, staring out at the snow-covered mountains that had become her home. Hope Landing. She’d chosen this place carefully, built a life here brick by careful brick. Her students needed her. DJ needed her.
She wasn’t going to let some coward with a keyboard chase her away.
“I don’t run anymore,” she whispered to her reflection in the dark glass. The woman staring back had steel in her spine and fire in her eyes. “You want to play games? Fine. But you picked the wrong target this time.”
She turned away from the window, her heels clicking against the hardwood with renewed purpose. Whoever was behind this thought they knew her—thought they could control her with fear and threats.
This ended now. On her terms.
They had no idea what she was capable of.
7
“Incoming!”
