Page 39 of Fierce Hope
Their only suspect was dead, leaving them back at square one. At least Sebastian had kept her secrets, protected the life she’d built.
As they walked toward their waiting vehicle, that old ache bloomed in her heart—the price of walking away, of choosing a different path. Was this all the family she’d ever have? These glimpses of what used to be, these borrowed moments of belonging?
The desert sun beat down, reminding her there was no going back. Only forward, into whatever darkness waited ahead.
23
Saturday morning sunlightfiltered through the frosted windows of Hope Landing Church’s bookkeeping office, catching dust motes that danced in the air. The building hummed with weekend activity—cheerful voices from a youth group meeting down the hall, the squeak of cart wheels from volunteers setting up a rummage sale, and the rich scent of coffee wafting from the volunteer station.
Deke stood near Jade’s desk, watching her sort through ledgers and donation slips. Her fingers moved with practiced efficiency, but he caught the slight tremor in them—exhaustion, stress, or both. The urge to reach out, to steady those hands with his own, caught him off guard.
He slipped away to the volunteer station, fixing tea exactly how she preferred—a little honey, splash of milk. Her eyes widened slightly when he returned, the surprise quickly softening to gratitude as their fingers brushed during the handoff.
“I really need to get back to my office soon.” She cradled the mug, inhaling the steam. “Early tax season’s heating up. I can’t afford to stay away much longer.”
His jaw tightened. The thought of her beyond his immediate protection sent cold fingers of dread up his spine.
“We’ll figure out a security rotation.” The words came out more gruffly than intended.
Gratitude flickered in her eyes before she ducked her head, returning to the files. Morning light caught auburn highlights in her hair, transforming ordinary brown to something richer, warmer.
His phone buzzed against his hip—the security alert system finally online. The grainy image showed a figure moving around Jade’s car, shoulders hunched against the cold.
Muscles tensed automatically. Blood pumped faster.
“Stay here,” he ordered, already moving toward the door, voice pitched low enough not to draw attention from the children’s laughter echoing down the hall.
The church lobby bustled with volunteers arranging tables for the rummage sale, teenagers hauling boxes of donated goods. He slipped through the crowd, hand instinctively checking the weapon concealed at his hip.
Cold air slapped his face as he pushed through the heavy doors. Fresh snow blanketed the parking lot, crystalline and untouched except for a single set of footprints.
Perfect.
He spotted his target immediately—young male, dark hoodie pulled low, crouched by Jade’s driver-side door. Breath puffing white clouds in the crisp air.
Training took over. The satisfying crunch beneath his boots silenced by distant traffic. Fifty feet. Thirty. Ten.
The stranger sensed movement. Straightened suddenly, spinning around. Wide eyes met his. A stumbling step backward.
“Hands where I can see them.” Keeping his voice low and level. Analyzing the intruder’s posture—nervous, amateur, no visible weapon bulge. “Slowly.”
“I-I wasn’t doing anything wrong.” Trembling hands rose. Up close, the kid looked barely past college age. Worn hoodie with frayed cuffs. Scuffed sneakers. Dark circles under bloodshot eyes.
The cold bit through Deke’s jacket. Wind carried the scent of impending snow.
“Cut the lies.” He took another calculated step forward. Close enough to grab the kid if needed.
“Listen, man, I can explain?—”
“Then explain.” He shifted his weight, ready to block any potential escape. “Fast.”
The kid’s eyes darted around the parking lot. No one in sight except for church volunteers visible through distant windows. His shoulders slumped. “My name’s Chad. Chad Delgado. I was just doing a delivery job.”
“For who?”
“Online gig.” Chad’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Fifty bucks to drop an envelope. That’s it.”
Suspicion prickled up Deke’s spine. “Show me.”
