Page 4 of Fierce Hope (Hope Landing: New Recruits #3)

Hours later, a hectic workday behind her, Jade leaned against the table in the church’s community center, considering her newest tutoring client.

DJ was fifteen, a handsome African American kid with deep, dark eyes and a killer smile.

When he chose to use it. Like lots of boys his age, he was still slight, but his outsized hands and feet hinted at a huge growth spurt.

His wiry frame and oversized hoodie made him look younger, but his eyes—sharp, assessing, wary—belonged to someone much older.

Her heart went out to the lonely boy. Being the new kid in a small town was no fun. Been there. Done that. Far too many times.

She flipped through his math workbook as he slouched in the chair across from her, his arms crossed, his face set in what could only be described as terminal boredom .

A few other volunteer tutors worked with students around the large, well-lit room, but Jade barely noticed them.

Her focus was on the teenager in front of her, who, despite his insistence otherwise, was undeniably sharp—just selectively motivated.

“I don’t see why I need to know any of this.” DJ sighed dramatically.

“What?” Jade blinked, realizing she’d been staring at the same equation for too long. She needed to get herself back into the moment. Pronto.

DJ gave her a look, unimpressed. “The math. Don’t see the point.”

Jade raised an eyebrow. “You plan on never using numbers for the rest of your life?”

“That’s the dream.”

She tapped her pencil against the table. “Well, until that ‘professional vibe curator’ job opens up, you’re stuck with algebra.”

That earned her a ghost of a smile, which he quickly smothered beneath his usual guarded expression.

“Come on, DJ,” she said, softening her tone. “You’re actually really good at this when you focus.”

He exhaled through his nose, gripping his pencil. “I just got other stuff on my mind.”

Jade hesitated. She wasn’t about to pry—the boy trusted her enough to show up to these tutoring sessions, but not enough to spill what was weighing him down. She could guess, though. His father. The same father she was trying very hard not to think about.

DJ frowned at her, suspicion flickering in his sharp eyes. “You okay? You seem … distracted.”

“No. I mean, yeah. I’m fine.” She waved a hand vaguely, hoping that settled it. “Come on, let’s get through this problem.”

DJ hesitated but didn’t push. He was guarded, careful with his questions. Too much like her, and that made something in her chest ache.

The door creaked open.

She knew who it was before she even looked up.

DJ’s dad, Deke.

The energy of the space changed the moment he entered, like the air itself took notice. But, of course, she eyed him, because how could she not?

The man was impossible to ignore.

At six-six, he towered over nearly everyone, broad-shouldered and built like he was carved from granite.

His presence was quiet but absolute, the way trained warriors carried themselves.

A man of deep faith and even deeper secrets, she thought.

The kind of man who could unearth hers without even trying.

Not good.

Nor was the way her pulse picked up as his sharp gaze landed on her. She stiffened, suddenly hyperaware of herself. The old paranoia slithered back in, the one she thought she’d buried along with Jade Marlowe.

She hated that. Hated that whoever was taunting her had forced her back into this state. Most of all, she hated that the easiest way to cope with it was to slip back into an old habit—masking, pretending, playing a part.

Deke nodded once at her in greeting. “Ms. Villanueva.”

Jade tilted her head slightly, offering a small smile. “Mr. Williams. You’re early.”

“Figured I’d see what miracles you’re working firsthand,” he said, his tone light, almost teasing.

Jade smirked. “Miracles take time, but DJ’s making it look easy.”

Deke snorted. “Yeah? Maybe you should come work with my crew. If you can get this kid to actually enjoy algebra, you’re wasted in accounting.”

Jade arched an eyebrow. “Tempting, but I prefer numbers over bullets. Less chance of getting shot.”

“Depends on the client,” Deke said dryly.

Jade snorted. “I hear that. You should see some of the people I have to deal with in accounting. Cutthroat. Ruthless. Probably more dangerous than yours.”

Deke huffed a quiet laugh. “Yeah? I bet their audits are brutal.”

“Worse,” Jade said. “Who knew spreadsheets could be weaponized?”

Deke’s lips twitched, like he might actually smile, but then he shifted his focus to his silent son—and just like that, the easy warmth evaporated. His broad shoulders squared, his jaw tightened, and his expression became unreadable.

DJ went just as stiff. His fingers curled around his pencil, tapping against the desk in an erratic rhythm. “I’m almost done.”

“Take your time,” Deke said, voice even but edged with something unreadable.

Jade’s chest ached for them both. Two stubborn, guarded souls circling each other like wary fighters in a match neither wanted but couldn’t avoid.

Deke, trying too hard to keep his emotions locked down, afraid of saying the wrong thing.

DJ, holding himself just as tightly, as if expecting disappointment before it even arrived.

They were both so hurt. So distant. And neither knew how to bridge the gap between them.

Deke crossed his arms, glancing at the open textbook like it was a foreign object. “I assume he’s actually learning something?”

She eyed the teen’s bent head before responding, choosing her words. “DJ’s way smarter than he wants to let on. My guess is he’ll get tired of being underestimated sooner or later. In the meantime, I just provide snacks and mild threats.”

“Good to know,” Deke murmured. His gaze flicked to her, assessing, as if he could see past the ease in her voice, past the mask.

He couldn’t, of course. She was too good at this. She’d spent years perfecting the art of lying to people’s faces.

But she hated that she had to. Hated that, for the first time in years, she was forced into using the well-honed survival instincts of a girl she no longer wanted to be.

Her fingers curled into her palms. She’d spent too many years running, looking over her shoulder. This time, she was going to find out who was behind it. And she was going to put a stop to it.

The past had molded her into a person she’d hated. But it had also left her with mad skills.

Her tormentor might frighten Jade Villanueva, but they’d be no match for Jade Marlowe.