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.
5
Smoke curledup from the wok, snapping Deke back to reality. He muttered a curse and grabbed for the handle, but the vegetables were already blackening, filling his kitchen with the acrid smell of failure. Again.
His mind had wandered—once more—to Jade Villanueva. Something was off with her today. He’d caught it in the tight set of her shoulders, the careful way she held herself. Most people wouldn’t notice. But he wasn’t most people, and noticing things others missed was literally his job.
The woman was competent, sharp as a tactical blade when it came to numbers and even sharper with people, judging by how she handled DJ. But today there’d been something guarded in those dark eyes of hers, something that pulled at his instincts like a tripwire.
The smoke alarm chirped a warning.
“Really?” He yanked the wok off the burner, waving futilely at the smoke with his free hand.
“Wow.” DJ’s voice cut through the haze. “That’s impressive. Even for you.”
Deke turned to find his son leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, wearing that expression that managed to combine disdain with amusement in a way only teenagers could perfect.
