Page 12 of Fierce Hope
First, he needed to understand what was going on with Jade Villanueva. His mind still caught on that flicker of worry about her. The weight of it sat wrong in his chest, like a mission brief with critical intel missing.
Deke wandered inside. The hangar hummed with its usual controlled chaos. The massive space managed to feel both industrial and homey—state-of-the-art equipment sharing space with worn leather couches and a coffee station that rivaled most cafes. The scent of gun oil and fresh coffee mixed with the sharp tang of winter air as the team shed layers of snow gear.
“I’m just saying,” Kenji announced to no one in particular, “if Lauren goes into actual labor during a match, I automatically get MVP status for the day we had to quit.”
“In your dreams,” Patrick called back, heading for the locker room. “You were getting crushed out there.”
“Was not!”
“Was too!”
“Children,” Star cut in, rolling her eyes. “Don’t make me separate you.”
The familiar banter faded as Zara caught Deke’s eye, her expression shifting to something more focused. The formerintelligence officer had a way of looking at people that made them feel like she knew every deep, dark secret they’d ever had.
“Hey, Deke?” She approached with that careful casualness that set off warning bells in his head. “Got a second?”
He stiffened slightly. “What’s up?”
“DJ’s tutor—what’s her name again?”
His heart stumbled. “Jade. Jade Villanueva. Why?”
Zara’s eyes narrowed. She’d caught something in his tone. “I was reviewing the community police and fire dispatch logs from last night?—”
“As one does at 3 a.m.,” Kenji interjected, passing by with a towel around his neck.
Zara ignored him. “There was a call about possible intruders at her condo. A neighbor reported suspicious sounds, but when patrol units arrived, they found nothing obvious.”
He replayed every detail from yesterday—the tension in Jade’s shoulders, the careful way she’d held herself, how her gaze had kept drifting to the door.
“I thought you might want to know,” Zara added softly. “In case you feel like checking on her.”
The suggestion was casual, but her eyes were too knowing. She’d seen something in his reaction, cataloged it away in that razor-sharp mind of hers.
“Thanks.” The word came out clipped, professional. Like this was just another piece of intel, not something that made his chest tight with an unfamiliar mix of worry and anger.
Zara nodded once and drifted away, but Deke barely noticed. His mind was already running scenarios, threat assessments, action plans. Someone had been in Jade’s home.
The team’s chatter washed over him, but he was already mentally mapping the quickest route to Andreassen-Canning’s offices.
He changed in the locker room and started out the door.
“Where you headed?” Ronan called after him.
Deke didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. His team knew that look—the one that said someone had crossed a line, and now there would be consequences.
8
The winter lightfiltering through Andreassen-Canning’s floor-to-ceiling windows cast long shadows across Jade’s desk. She’d been staring at her laptop screen for twenty minutes, her untouched coffee growing cold beside her keyboard. Around her, the office hummed with morning activity—phones ringing softly, the whoosh of the elevator doors, someone laughing in the break room over fresh coffee and bagels.
All so normal. So safe.
Such a lie.
Her hands trembled slightly as she opened a private browsing window. The irony wasn’t lost on her—using her work computer to dig into her past, when her whole life here was built on burying it. But she had to know. Had to rule out the possibility that someone from her father’s world had found her.
The familiar forums loaded, dark corners of the internet where her father’s old associates still lurked. She hadn’t visited these sites in twelve years, but muscle memory took over as she navigated through them. Amazing how something could feel so foreign and so familiar at once, like speaking a language she’d sworn to forget.
