His jaw tightens, and he straightens up, moving to the monitors. “Stay focused, Zane. This isn’t about me.”
But it is, isn’t it? I glance at the surveillance feeds, my mind drifting to the twins. There’s something about them, especially Emma. That determined little chin, the way she stares down the world like she’s daring it to take her on. It’s a look I’ve seen before.
The thought comes fast and unwelcome: Could Damon be their father?
No.I shove it aside. Damon would’ve said something if that were the case. Wouldn’t he?
The door creaks open, and Asher steps in, fresh from what he calls “kid-wrangling duty.” His sleeves are rolled up, and there’s a smudge of dirt on his forearm. He’s got that easy smile on his face, but I can see the tension behind it.
“Hey,” he says. “Do I have anything on my face? I swear the girls are trying to put makeup on me.”
“All clear,” I say, distracted.
He frowns. “What are you guys talking about?”
“Jason,” Zane says.
“Ah, the devil himself. I should have guessed from the look on your faces. I’ve been studying up on him. Obviously I don’t understand him as much as you or Damon does. But you see how he’s escalating?”“The photos, the hospital, confronting her friend—it’s all about control. He’s trying to isolate her. Make her feel helpless.”
There’s an edge to his voice I don’t usually hear. Our sunshine boy, always the optimist, is taking this one personally. Hell, we all are.
“This isn’t his first rodeo,” I mutter, staring at the map. “He knows exactly what he’s doing.”
Asher nods grimly. “That’s why we’ve got to stay ahead of him. He’s not going to stop until he thinks he’s broken her.”
The room falls quiet, the weight of the situation settling over us. Damon’s still standing by the monitors, his back to us. He hasn’t said a word since Asher walked in, but I can feel the tension radiating off him.
“Damon,” I say finally, breaking the silence. “You sure you’re good to lead this? You seem… distracted.”
He turns, his expression unreadable. “I’m fine,” he says, but his voice lacks its usual conviction.
None of us believe him. But for now, we let it slide.
The porch creaks softly beneath my boots as I lean against the railing, staring out into the dark. The cool night air bites at my skin, a welcome reprieve from the chaos inside.
Asher’s voice trickles down from the upstairs window, telling some over-the-top secret agent tale. The twins’ giggles drift on the cool evening breeze.
The creak of the back door pulls me from my thoughts. I glance over my shoulder as Mia steps out, her arms crossed against the chill. She hesitates, then says softly, “I'm not disturbing your me time, am I?”
I shake my head. “No such thing when you’re on duty.”
She gives a small smile, barely there, and comes to stand beside me at the railing. For a moment, neither of us speaks, the quiet between us filled with the distant chirping of crickets and the muffled sound of the twins’ laughter.
“They think this is all a game,” she says, her voice just loud enough to reach me. “Playing spies and superheroes.”
“Better than being afraid,” I say. My eyes flick to her, taking in the way her hair catches the faint light.
She hugs her arms tighter around herself, her gaze fixed on the darkened yard. “Jason always knew how to manipulate with fear. It’s his weapon of choice.”
“Then he won’t find any here,” I say, my voice firm. “You know him better than any of us, Mia. What’s his next move?”
She’s silent for a long moment, and I can see the internal war in her eyes. When she finally speaks, her voice is low, almost a whisper.
“With Jason, he likes to play with his food before he eats it. The threats, the mind games—it’s all foreplay to him. He’s building up to something. He always does.”
The way she wraps her arms around herself, like she’s trying to keep from falling apart, hits me harder than I expect. I straighten, leaning a little closer. “We’ll be ready.”
A loud crack down the street snaps through the quiet like a gunshot. Mia flinches hard, stepping into me instinctively. Before I can think, my arms are around her, pulling her close, shielding her. Her soft, warm body curves perfectly against mine, and I can feel her heart pounding, matching the erratic rhythm of my own.
