Page 24 of Fierce Hope
In his rearview mirror, Jade’s complex disappeared into gathering dusk. The bitter taste of deception coated his tongue. He’d protect her, even from herself if necessary.
He just prayed she’d forgive him when she discovered how far he’d go to keep her safe.
13
Jade crankedup the heater in her car, trying to ward off the morning chill as she navigated the winding mountain road between her condo complex and her office. The thin winter sunlight did little to warm the frost-edged air, but that wasn’t why her hands trembled slightly on the steering wheel.
Yesterday’s threatening phone call kept replaying in her mind:Stop digging.
The security cameras Deke installed made her condo feel safer, but out here on this lonely stretch of road, that safety felt far away. She checked her mirrors—a habit that had become almost obsessive lately—and adjusted the vents.
That’s when movement in her rearview mirror caught her attention. A dark SUV appeared around the curve behind her, following closer than comfortable on the narrow mountain road. Her stomach knotted.It’s just someone running late for work,she told herself.Not everyone is out to get you.
But the SUV crept closer, hugging her bumper. Jade pressed her foot harder on the accelerator, heart beginning to race. The vehicle matched her speed, staying right on her tail.
“Back off,” she muttered, knuckles white on the wheel.
The SUV suddenly surged forward, its front bumper nearly clipping her car. Startled, Jade yelled, swerving slightly. Her pulse hammered in her throat.
She wanted to believe the driver was on his phone. But she feared the worst.
This isn’t random,her mind screamed.This is connected to the break-ins, the phone calls ...
Before she could finish the thought, the SUV swerved into the oncoming lane. For a moment, she felt relief—they were passing her. Then the vehicle veered back sharply, forcing her toward the guardrail.
Metal screamed against metal as her car scraped the barrier. Jade fought the wheel, trying to maintain control as the SUV crowded her.
One wrong move and she’d go over the edge.
The SUV suddenly roared past her. Through her panic, she tried to glimpse the license plate, but it was caked with snow and road grime. Then the SUV accelerated around the next bend, leaving her trembling and breathless in its wake.
They’re really trying to kill me now.
She coasted another quarter mile, her hands shaking so badly she could barely keep the wheel steady. The small trailhead parking lot appeared ahead—empty this early on a Monday—and she pulled in, the frozen gravel crunching under her tires like broken glass.
Head against the steering wheel, she breathed hard, adrenaline coursing through her system. The heater hummed, but she couldn’t stop shivering. After a moment, she forced herself to step out and assess the damage.
A long, ugly scrape marred the passenger side of her ten-year-old compact, silver paint peeled away to reveal bare metal. She ran her fingers along the gash, feeling sick. No major damage, but the message was clear.
Next time could be worse.
Her phone felt heavy in her pocket. She didn’t want to make this call—didn’t want to give Deke more reason to dig into her life. But her hands were still trembling, and the mountain road stretched empty and threatening in both directions.
He answered on the first ring.
“Someone just ran me off the road,” she said, her voice shakier than she’d like.
“Where are you?”
“Mountain Pass Road. The old trailhead lot.” She tried to steady her breathing. “I’m okay, just?—”
“Stay in your car. Lock the doors. I’m five minutes out.”
She frowned. The trailhead was at least fifteen minutes from town. But before she could question it, he continued, “Did you see who it was?”
“Dark SUV. The plates were covered in slush.” Another trembling breath. “Deke, I don’t think this was an accident.”
“Neither do I. Keep talking to me. Are you hurt?”
