Chapter 11 Zane
ZANE
The early morning chill bites at my skin as I finish the perimeter check. The quiet neighborhood is slowly waking, but I’m hyper aware of every creak, every stray sound. My body moves on autopilot, the routine ingrained after years of service.
Movement in the backyard draws my attention, and I stop short. Asher’s out there, running some kind of “super secret agent workout” with the twins.
“Somersault, Agent Emma!” Asher calls. Ella tries, landing more on her side than her feet, but her giggles echo through the yard. Emma, meanwhile, counts Asher’s push-ups with her usual intensity, a little furrow on her brow like this is the most serious mission of her life.
Despite myself, I smile. The sight is ridiculous.
These girls don’t have a clue about the danger circling their world, but watching them, you wouldn’t want to tell them otherwise.
Asher, for all his quirks, knows how to keep their spirits up.
It’s good for them—and for Mia. She deserves some joy in her life, even if it’s borrowed.
Through the kitchen window, I catch glimpses of Mia and Damon. She’s standing by the counter, her arms crossed, her posture tight. Damon’s speaking, his expression unusually gentle. He holds out a small object. The burner phone, I’m guessing.
The way Damon watches her when she’s not looking… it’s not out of professional concern. I’ve seen that look before. The kind of look a man gives when he’s tied to someone deeper than he’s willing to admit.
A sharp twist of jealousy cuts through me.
Jealousy? What the hell for? I don’t even know what I’m feeling jealous about. Damon and I have always had a clear boundary between the job and everything else. He’s been my boss for years, and I’ve never questioned him. But right now, watching the way he interacts with Mia, I feel... off.
As I finish my sweep of the yard, movement catches my eye again—this time, Asher.
He’s not focused on the twins anymore. Instead, he’s watching the kitchen window, where Damon and Mia are still deep in conversation.
His expression is hard to read—somewhere between curiosity and something else. I don’t even know what it is.
I narrow my eyes as he shifts, clearly unaware I’m observing him. When he finally turns back to the girls, there’s a look on his face I don’t recognize. It’s not the usual easygoing Asher, the guy who stress-bakes cookies and jokes his way through tense situations. He’s troubled.
What the hell is going on?
It’s not hard to see why Mia might have everyone’s attention.
She’s attractive, sure, but this is different.
This job isn’t the first time we’ve worked a high-stakes case involving a beautiful woman.
But none of us have ever been this... distracted.
And that’s exactly what this is: a distraction. One that none of us can afford.
I glance back at the kitchen. Damon’s still with Mia. I’ve seen him handle all kinds of people before: diplomats, shady contractors, terrified civilians. He knows how to talk to people, but this? This is something else entirely. The way he’s watching her... it’s personal.
The twins’ laughter pulls my attention back to the yard. Emma is attempting another dramatic roll while Ella critiques her form. Asher kneels, encouraging them, but I catch the flicker of distraction in his eyes. Whatever he saw in that kitchen has him off his game.
“Agent Zane!” Emma’s voice rings out, full of excitement. She’s crouched in a mock ninja pose, her hands balled into tiny fists. “Come teach us ninja moves!”
I should say no. Should keep my distance, keep things professional. But instead, I hear myself saying, “Alright, but only for a minute.”
Her face lights up like she just won a prize. Ella glances up from her notebook, her serious little brow furrowed as if analyzing the situation. “Do ninjas take notes, too?” she asks, holding up her crayon-scrawled paper.
“They absolutely do,” I reply, crouching to their level. “How else would they remember all the secret ninja rules?”
Emma giggles and bounces on her toes while Ella carefully nods like I’ve just handed her classified information.
I show them a basic defensive stance, something useful disguised as play. “Okay, feet apart, knees slightly bent,” I instruct, adjusting Emma’s positioning. “Hands up to protect your face.”
Emma gives a dramatic “Hi-yah!” and punches the air. Ella imitates her but with more precision, her small fists steady in front of her.
“You’re natural ninjas,” I say, stepping back. “But remember, a good ninja never picks a fight. Rule one: stay aware and stay safe.”
Emma pauses mid-kick to beam up at me. “Like you, Agent Zane? You keep people safe, right?”
Something about her innocence hits me square in the chest. I clear my throat. “That’s right,” I manage, forcing a smile. “Now, let’s see if you two can sneak up on Secret Agent Asher.”
They both gasp with delight and take off across the yard, whispering loud enough to scare away birds. Asher turns just in time to pretend he’s startled, raising his hands in mock surrender as they “capture” him.
I stand there, watching them laugh and chase each other, and feel a knot tightening in my chest. I shouldn’t have done this. Should’ve kept my distance like I planned. But when Emma looked up at me like that, like I was some kind of hero… how the hell was I supposed to say no?
In the makeshift security office we’ve set up in the den, Damon leans over the table, outlining our rotation schedule.
Maps and blueprints of the property are pinned to the walls, along with surveillance feeds running on the monitors.
He’s all business, his tone clipped as he gestures to different points on the map.
“We need eyes on all approaches,” Damon says. “No blind spots. If Jason makes a move, we’re going to see it coming.”
I lean back in my chair, arms crossed. Damon’s acting like he’s fully in control, but there’s something off. And I need to figure out what he’s hiding.
“So,” I say, keeping my tone casual, “what’s the deal with you and Mia? You’ve got history, don’t you?”
He slowly turns around to look at me. “She’s our client. That’s all you need to know.”
Bullshit. I know deflection when I hear it. Damon’s too composed, too controlled. It’s obvious he doesn’t want to talk about it, which only makes me more curious.
“Right,” I say, pushing a little harder. “Because it doesn’t seem like just business. Not with the way you look at her.”
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?”