[BOOK THREE]
Sierra Page struggled with moving on. The events from earlier that winter were permanently engraved in her head and with the loss of Allison, she knew she wasn't the same girl she used to be. But that was okay. Because she still had Sti...
AFTER EVERYTHING Derek had been through with Jemma, he trusted her more than anyone, even Peter. So when she spoke up and told him she knew someone who could help find Kate, he listened.
Granted Braeden was a mercenary and wouldn't do it for free, but at least Derek knew of her. She sat in the loft with a confident smirk on her lips, her black army boots hoisted onto the coffee table. Derek glanced at Jemma, unsure, but a single nod from her gave him all the confidence he needed.
"That table is Italian," Peter told Braeden through gritted teeth, disliking her instantly.
Braeden couldn't care less, shooting back, "So are these boots."
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"Remind me later to ask you where you got them," Jemma told her, enjoying the annoyance that wafted off of Peter. "They're super cute."
"Awe, thanks," Braeden chuckled, "but unfortunately, Jem, you know I'm not hear to talk fashion. But send me a text whenever and I'm your girl." Her dark brown eyes drifted to Peter and she raised an eyebrow. "You ready to talk numbers?"
Derek wasn't paying attention, his gaze focused on a pair of sunglasses in his hand. This lead Peter to inhale sharply to stop himself from lashing out as he scribbled some digits on a piece of paper.
Braeden barely glanced at it, unimpressed. Taking her own pen, she marked out what Peter wrote and named her own price.
This only fueled Peter's disgust, and he stated, "We're hiring you to find Kate, not assassinate the president."
"I was hired by the Calaveras to find Kate," Braeden reminded, pointing to Derek and Peter. "You two are hiring me to find her first. Going against the Calaveras is what is going to cost you."
Peter tried once more to find middle ground, but scowled once Braeden pushed back the paper—not even looking at it. He stood up dramatically and created space while Jemma stifled a laugh. Derek from beside her snatched the paper and tore it in half.
Looking at Braeden, he said seriously, "We'll pay. Just find Kate; that's all we want."
As soon as Peter slammed the loft door shut after Braeden left, he started to yell at his nephew. "Are you insane!?"
Derek, unbothered, remained sitting on the couch with Jemma. His arm around her, Jemma rested her head on his shoulder, both of them looking at Peter with eyebrows raised from his outburst.
"I didn't have another choice," Derek stated, his voice steady. "We spent a week looking for Kate and found nothing."
"If we don't find who told Kate about the vault, we don't get those bonds back," Peter pointed out, Jemma feeling his aggravation. "What do you think I'm going to do then, huh? Get a job? My resume is slightly out of date."
"Well maybe if you hadn't gone on a homicidal killing spree, people maybe would've hired you," Jemma sassed, Derek chuckling as she sat up. "And Kate wouldn't even be a werejaguar. She'd be rotting in a prison cell, where she—and you—belong."
