Page 16 of Fierce Hope (Hope Landing: New Recruits #3)

Knuckles white against the steering wheel, Deke navigated the snow-dusted streets of Hope Landing. Streetlights flickered on one by one, casting long shadows across patches of dirty ice. The truck’s heater blasted, but couldn’t touch the cold knot forming in his gut.

DJ hadn’t uttered a single word since they’d left Jade’s condo. Just sat there, face bathed in the blue glow of his phone, jaw tight. Like father, like son.

The silence stretched. Suffocating.

Deke’s mind replayed the image of Jade climbing those steps. The slight hitch in her stride. The way her shoulders had curled inward when she thought no one was watching. Amateur mistake. Someone always watched.

He cleared his throat. “Change of plans. Got an assignment. You’ll need to stay at Izzy’s for a couple days.”

DJ’s thumb froze mid-scroll. “How long?” The words fell between them like stones.

“Couple days. Maybe more.” He caught his son’s reflection in the darkening window, watched the muscles in the boy’s jaw bunch. “Remember I told you this might happen?”

The temperature in the truck plummeted as DJ’s body went rigid. His phone dropped to his lap. Forgotten.

“You’re dumping me at some random house again?” Venom dripped from each syllable.

The accusation landed like a sucker punch. The kid had seemed fine at Izzy’s before—had even bragged about Chantal teaching him to make crepes. “It’s not random. You know Izzy and?—”

“Whatever.”

That jaw clench. Mirror image of his own when holding back emotions too big to release. Genetics at work.

He flipped the blinker, checking his six. Habit. “I’ll grab you a pizza to take. Whatever kind you want.”

DJ’s laugh snapped through the cab. Brittle. “Right. Because Chantal only eats cheese. You probably don’t even remember that.” He slumped lower, each word a carefully aimed blade. “But sure, buy us pizza. That makes everything better.”

The dull throb behind his eyes intensified. Streets empty at this hour. Tactical advantage, at least. Why was DJ so triggered? Last time at Izzy’s he’d come home babbling about movie marathons and game nights.

Something else brewing.

“If you really hate it at Izzy’s, I can arrange?—”

“What’s that?” DJ suddenly straightened, reaching toward the floorboard. His hand emerged clutching a silver pen, turning it over. Eyes narrowed at the inscription. “Andreassen-Canning. That’s Jade’s firm, right?”

The knot in his gut twisted tighter. “DJ?—”

“You’re dropping everything for some random woman now?” His son’s voice cracked. Raw. Exposed. “You barely have time for me, but for her? Twenty-four seven!”

The accusation slammed into him harder than any combat training. Air rushed from his lungs.

“You know what?” DJ’s hands trembled, the pen clutched in white-knuckled fingers. “This is exactly what Mom used to do. Every new boyfriend, she’d ship me off somewhere. Grandma’s. Her friend’s couch. Wherever.” A ragged breath. “And now you’re doing the same thing!”

Guilt crashed through him like a breaching wave. Seven years of his son’s life vanished while he served his country. And now, just when they were rebuilding ...

His throat burned. Swallowing hard, he turned into their cabin’s rutted driveway.

The headlights swept across weathered logs and piles of snow.

DJ was out before the engine died, the slamming door punctuating his exit.

The boy disappeared inside, shoulders hunched against more than just February’s bite.

Deke grabbed his go-bag from behind the seat. Mind split between perimeter security for Jade’s condo and the wounded look in his son’s eyes.

In the cabin’s narrow hallway, drawers slammed. Items thumped into a backpack. Muttered words leaked beneath the door. Each sound a physical blow.

He shouldered his tactical duffel. Had to keep Jade safe. The threat escalated with each passing hour. Couldn’t risk leaving her unprotected. But watching his relationship with DJ fracture under the strain ...

He had to do both, somehow.

A wordless prayer rose—for wisdom, for strength, for some way through this mess.

He stared at DJ’s closed door. His son’s accusations echoed. The weight of duty to Jade pressed against his chest while the gulf between him and DJ yawned wider each day.

Protect and serve. The motto that had defined his life.

But who was he failing to protect now?