This is why I have to keep my distance. Why I can’t let myself think about what I already suspect. Because the moment I say it out loud, the moment I let myself believe it… I won’t be able to walk away.
I tighten the last screw on the last reinforced lock, stepping back to check the fit. The lake house is secure, but it doesn’t sit right with me. Too many windows, too many variables. Water access makes it harder to approach, but if someone was determined, they could find a way.
“We should install more motion sensors on the dock,” I say, glancing at Asher who’s at the bottom of the staircase, planting a sensor on the wall. “It’s an access point we can’t ignore.”
Asher nods. “Already on my list. The back gate’s another weak spot. We can set up a camera there, but it won’t be perfect.”
“We can’t afford imperfections.”
“No shit.” He exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. “This place is better than the last, but it’s not a fortress. And we still don’t know how many people Whitmore has working with him.”
I clench my jaw at the name. “We need to find out.”
“I’ve been digging.” Asher leans against the counter. “His accounts are moving money faster. He’s paying people off, making deals.”
“You think it goes beyond personal?”
“I think he’s playing a bigger game. Mia’s just one piece of it.”
I’m about to say something else when I hear small footsteps on the stairs. We both turn.
Emma clutches her stuffed bear, its torn tail dragging against the floor. Her bottom lip juts out as she holds it up.
“Secret Agent Damon?” Her voice is small. “Can you fix Sparkle’s boo-boo? She needs a band-aid.”
The unicorn. The same one Zane had torn apart looking for a tracker. Guilt slams into me. Emma doesn’t understand why it happened. She only knows something she loves is broken.
Before I can say a word, Asher steps forward. “I'll take care of it,” he says, his voice gruff but softer than usual. “Just needs a few stitches.”
Emma hesitates, looking between us, her small fingers twisting in the hem of her pajama top. I recognize that expression—the same stubborn set to her jaw, the same analytical stare. It’s like looking into a mirror of my past, and for a moment, I forget how to breathe.
“Why can’t Agent Damon do it?” Emma finally asks.
The question catches me off guard. I feel Asher glance at me, but I don’t look away from her. Emma isn’t being difficult—she’s trying to include me. And that realization makes my chest feel too tight.
I’ve spent the past few days keeping my distance. Even before that, when I first saw the twins, I made a conscious effort to step back, to not get too involved. The most time I’ve spent with them was in the panic room, when fear kept us huddled together in the dark.
Mia hasn’t told me anything. But in my gut, in my bones, I know the truth.
The thought hits me like a punch to the ribs.My daughters.
The need to protect her, to protectthem, slams into me with a force that’s almost painful.
But Asher’s right about one thing: we can’t afford distractions. Not now. Not with Jason getting this close towho might be my daughters.
I force a small smile, crouching in front of Emma. “Because Agent Asher is the best at fixing boo-boos,” I tell her, tapping her nose lightly. “Even secret agents have specialties.”
She studies me a moment longer before nodding, apparently satisfied. “Okay. But you have to help next time.”
My throat feels tight. “Deal.”
She turns back to Asher, watching as he finishes the last stitch, her little fingers brushing against the fabric as if reassuring herself that Sparkles is okay.
I rise to my feet. I don’t know how this ends, or what happens when this job is over. But I know one thing for certain.
I’m not walking away this time.
CHAPTER 16
