Page 22 of Fierce Hope
The late afternoonsun sliced through gathering clouds as Deke pulled into Jade’s condo complex. Shadows stretched like warning fingers across the asphalt. He executed a practiced scan—cataloging vehicles, identifying sightlines and mapping potential surveillance points.
He popped the hatch on his truck, the familiar weight of security equipment settling into his hands. Doorbell camera. Motion sensors. The vehicle tracker he hadn’t mentioned to Jade. Wouldn’t mention. Some things were better left unsaid.
Last night’s fear in her eyes haunted him. The way she’d flinched at shadows. The words she’d held back.
The sky hung heavy with unshed snow, perfectly matching the weight in his chest.
He took the stairs two at a time. First rule of tactical movement—know your exit routes. He’d already cataloged three ways off the property.
The door swung open before his knuckles met wood. Jade stood framed in the doorway, arms wrapped tight around her middle.
“Hey.” She stepped back, gesture as automatic as her too-bright smile. Yoga pants, oversized sweater, hair twisted ina messy bun that somehow made her look younger. More vulnerable.
“Hey yourself.” He stepped inside, setting the cases down with a solid thunk. His gaze snagged on the shadows beneath her eyes. “Sleep at all?”
“Some.” She glanced at the window, then back. “Enough.”
Liar. The word didn’t need voicing. They both knew it hung between them.
Deke unpacked the first camera, watching her from his peripheral. The constant adjustment of her posture. The white-knuckled grip on her phone. The way her gaze darted to the door every thirty seconds.
He’d seen that look before. On witnesses withholding critical details. On targets trying to hide their tracks.
“Let’s make sure you stay safe.” He held up a camera. “Ready?”
Jade nodded. “More than ready.”
“The motion sensors link directly to your phone.” Deke mounted the first camera above her living room window, the familiar routine of installation steadying his hands. The faint smell of her vanilla candles mixed with the metallic scent of security equipment. “Any movement triggers an alert.” He glanced over his shoulder where she stood, arms clutched around herself like armor. “I’ll get the notifications too.”
She nodded, teeth catching her lower lip. “And it’s ... easy to operate?”
“One app.” He finished securing the mount, then pulled his phone to demonstrate. “Live feed. Motion detection. Two-way audio if needed.”
Jade leaned closer, jasmine shampoo momentarily overwhelming the vanilla. Something flickered in her eyes—doubt? Fear? A secret?
“We need check-ins.” He kept his tone casual, professional. “Morning text when you wake up. Afternoon call. And if anything—anything—feels wrong, you call. Immediately.”
“My life on a timer.” A ghost of a smile touched her lips. “Got it.”
“Just until this is solved.” He moved to the entryway, unpacking the doorbell camera. “Dash cam for your car too. In case they try staging an accident.”
Her posture stiffened. “You think they would?”
“Better prepared than sorry.” He paused, studying the micro expressions flitting across her face. “Jade ... is there anything else? Anyone who might want to?—”
“No.” The word snapped between them. Too fast. Too defensive. She caught herself, shoulders dropping. “No, I’ve told you everything important.”
Everything important. Not everything. The distinction wasn’t lost on him.
The harsh trill of her phone sliced through the tension.
Unknown number.
Her face drained of color, leaving freckles standing in stark relief against suddenly pale skin.
“Speaker,” Deke instructed quietly.
Her hand trembled as she answered. Static crackled through the speaker, followed by a voice distorted beyond recognition: “You think cameras will help? Stop digging.”
