Page 91 of Fierce Hope
Ronan approached, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “Delgado won’t shut up. Says Sarah’s been working on the theft ever since she found out Kent planned to dump her.”
“Any actual evidence of Russian involvement?” Deke asked. Not that he cared overmuch.
Ronan shook his head. “Nothing concrete. Despite what Sarah seems to think, it could be Wycoff was laundering for garden-variety criminals, not international players. Frazer’s contacting the FBI regardless.”
Ronan nodded, relief evident in his expression. “Get Jade and DJ out of here. Take the SUV. We’ll fly back.” He clapped Deke briefly on the shoulder before moving away.
Chief Frazer approached next, his weathered face solemn. “We’ll need statements from all three of you, but it can wait until tomorrow. Go home. Get some rest.”
“Thank you,” Deke said quietly, genuine gratitude in his voice.
“Quite the math tutor you found,” Frazer commented, glancing at Jade with new respect. “Not many civilians would have handled this situation so well.”
“Copy that,” Deke agreed, his gaze returning to Jade’s face.
As Frazer walked away, Deke tightened his arms around Jade, his other hand resting on his son’s shoulder.
His family was safe—finally whole.
He’d never take the feeling for granted again.
47
Almost twenty-four hours later,Jade stood quietly near her living room window, afternoon sunlight casting soft golden tones across her familiar belongings. Despite the peaceful atmosphere, her heart felt strangely empty. The silence pressed heavily without Deke’s comforting presence, without DJ’s laughter filling the rooms.
She exhaled slowly, fingers tightening around her mug of tea, warmth seeping into her chilled fingers, the fragrance of mint gently calming her nerves. Deke had insisted she stay with him and DJ last night, but today, she’d needed to come home, needed her own space to process everything.
Too much had changed too quickly. She needed time to think. To pray. To breathe.
Her thoughts drifted back to last night, to the passionate sincerity in Deke’s voice when he’d confessed his love outside the warehouse. Could he truly mean it, or had adrenaline and relief overwhelmed him?
What if it was the adrenaline—and the relief—talking? What if Deke rethought things in the cold light of day?
After so many years learning how people could be manipulated, she wasn’t used to taking people at their word.
The soft chime of her phone interrupted her thoughts.
DJ: You still coming to the party tonight? Dad says it’s ok if you need more time, but I hope you come.
Jade smiled at the boy’s thoughtfulness. She typed back quickly:
NO way I’m missing this.
She set the phone down and took another sip of tea, letting the warmth settle in her stomach. She shook herself lightly, determinedly brushing away insecurity. She had faith in Deke, faith in God, and now, she needed to have faith in herself.
Her gaze drifted to the thin manila folder on her coffee table—her arrest records from Texas. Sebastian Deveaux had sent them via overnight courier. “Thought you might want these,” he’d said simply. “They’re yours now. All copies. Digital records have … disappeared. Do whatever you want with them.”
She hadn’t opened the folder. Didn’t need to. She knew what was inside—the documentation of a part of her life she’d spent years running from. But something had shifted in her perspective.
She considered the recent crisis again, replaying how she’d tapped fully into her old con-artist skills to save DJ. Those very skills had helped save them both. The ability to read Sarah, to recognize her weaknesses, to improvise under pressure—all of it came from years of less-than-honest work. Maybe her past wasn’t purely shameful.
Maybe it had prepared her uniquely for moments exactly like this.
Perhaps the Lord had used every piece of her history—even the painful parts—to shape the woman she’d become.
With surprising clarity, her thoughts turned to her father, Ren Marlowe. Uncle Sebastian’s gentle words from earlier echoed softly in her mind: “Forgiveness isn’t about excusingwhat happened, Jade. It’s about refusing to let it control your future.”
On impulse, she picked up her phone. She hesitated briefly, thumb hovering over her father’s contact. She’d promised herself she’d call him soon after their brief text exchange weeks ago but hadn’t found the courage.
