by Rachel Smith
Finding Home
Rachel Smith
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
FINDING HOME
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously; any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, event or location sis entirely coincidental.
Copyright © Rachel Smith LLC
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law.
ISBN: 9798768561970
Cover design: Amy Q Designs
For all my loyal readers.
Thanks for sticking with me. Even though I spent the past 5 years immersed in children’s books, I haven’t forgotten you.
This book is for each and every one of you who waited so patiently.
Prologue
Lizzie
My fingers flew over the ten-key pad, hitting each number with precise accuracy.
Click. Click. Tap. Tap. Tap. Click.
The monotonous sound comforted my soul; something of a cadence for my sad, pathetic existence. Other than the soft music filtering through the speakers in my office, the steady clicking was the only sound I heard for a good portion of each day. Crunching numbers, helping people clean up the mess they had made of their finances. This was the story of my life.
Sigh.
I must have been drunk that day in college when I decided to be an accounting major. It’s the only explanation, really. Or maybe I’m just crazy.
Tap. Tap. Click. Click. Click. Tap.
Oh wait, I remember now. I chose accounting because it was secure. A zero risk, ‘do your job and then go home’ type of career.
Safe.
The kind of safe that got me out of having to converse with other human beings, allowing me to hole up in an office for eight hours every day.
That’s me in a nutshell.
Reliable.
Steady.
Boring.
Click. Click. Click. Tap. Tap. Tap.
More typing. More numbers. More making sure every account balanced correctly. Every dollar had its place, every penny belonged somewhere. My clients trusted me to handle their finances, mistakes were simply not tolerated.
My eyelids drooped from excessive boredom, so I gave my head a little shake to snap myself out of it. A quick glance at the clock on my computer informed me it was almost quitting time. I’d survived another day. Thank God. Eight hours of this crap was about all I could handle.
Just as I slid my eyes from the time at the bottom of my computer screen, I heard the distinct ‘ding’ of an incoming message.
My office. Fifteen minutes.
Fire spread through my veins as I read the words, recharging my spirit with a boost of adrenaline. He’d been doing this more and more lately.
Summoning me.
I loved it. I never thought I’d be the kind of woman to step out of my comfort zone, especially sexually, but he brought out a whole new side of me. A side I never knew existed. He took thinking ‘outside the box’ to a different level by taking said box… and shattering it to smithereens.
I had no choice but to step out of the damn box after that.
It was thrilling.
Exciting.
Naughty.
Nothing like my normal life of being Elizabeth Rockwell. That girl was a drag. A stuffy, uptight accounting geek who worked too many hours, had zero social life, and totally nerded out over numbers.
I focused on my job all day, went home, ate dinner, spent a few hours reading, and then went to bed.
The same routine, every day.
Until I met him.
With him, I could be something different. Something crazy. This other version of me, well… she lived a bit on the wild side.
And she was going to her boss’s office in fifteen minutes to screw him.
Literally.
I twisted the diamond tennis bracelet on my wrist, an unexpected gift that still stole my breath. We’d been intimate for some time, but he was always so busy that our time outside the office was limited. It was after our first small argument, a night he’d blown me off to meet with a client, last minute, when he began with the gifts. Small surprises on my desk every now and then. A card, a love note, flowers.
An insanely expensive bracelet.
Shutting down my computer, I pulled open my bottom desk drawer and retrieved the emergency makeup kit stashed inside. After a quick refresh of my face, I stood up to smooth my hands down the front of my skirt, pushing away any unwanted wrinkles. I then unfastened the top two buttons on my blouse, gave my hair a gentle fluff, and made my way down the narrow corridor to the big office in the corner.
The door was closed, as usual, so I gave it two swift knocks and waited for the man on the other side to say, “Come in,” before I turned the knob. After crossing the threshold, my senses were assaulted from every angle.
The fluorescent lights had been dimmed to a muted glow, creating a sensual ambiance. I took two steps farther into the room when the musky scent of his aftershave floated into my nostrils. My heart catapulted into overdrive, pounding erratically as I made my way across the room.
Our eyes remained locked as he pushed his tall, black leather chair away from the desk. Two more steps and I was close enough to see he’d already removed his dress pants and boxers. His thick manhood stood at attention, primed and ready. A small bead of moisture gathered at the tip and I salivated, anticipating his taste.
“Now, Elizabeth,” were the only words spoken before I sprang into action. Like a lion attacking a poor, helpless gazelle, I fell to my knees and took him into my mouth. His hips punched up, forcing him deeper down my throat. My eyes watered as I struggled for air, but it didn’t stop me. I didn’t even slow down. This man stirred so many desires inside my body, I couldn’t pull back even if I wanted.
I was a woman possessed, and he owned every inch of me.
After enjoying the fruits of my enthusiastic labor for a few more moments, his hands slid under my arms and he pulled me up until my backside rested on his desk. “Spread,” he grunted before he pushed my skirt out of the way. His hand slid up my thigh and then his fingers curled around the soft silk nestled at my hip.
I gasped at the sensation as he ripped the panties from my body in one swift pull.
Holding himself at the root, he positioned and executed a solid thrust, entering my body with a single, fluid motion. My head fell back, eventually encountering the hard, wooden desk under me. I was sprawled out, legs high in the air, taking everything he had to give when I registered the sound of someone clearing their throat in the distance.
He stopped.
Time stopped.
I think the whole damn world
actually stopped spinning as I turned my head and saw a woman standing in the threshold. Her eyebrows raised with what appeared to be… impatience?
What the hell?
“Veronica, honey, this isn’t what it looks like.”
My head whipped around, and I stared at the man above me in horror. The man who had been my boss for an entire year, nine months of which we had been together. The man who had turned my world from black, white, and gray to insurmountable flashes of color.
The man whose dick was still inside of me.
No, no, no. Please tell me this isn’t true, I chanted inside my head. This can’t be happening. There’s no way this woman is about to say…
“Isn’t it?” her voice dripped with sarcasm. “So, then it doesn’t look like my husband is screwing one of his employees on top of his desk?”
1
Alex
The metal chair legs scraped against the floor as I pushed away from the table. It toppled to the ground in a noisy clatter, triggering the kid across from me to jump. I felt like I’d been asking the same question over and over. It was late, my level of exhaustion had hit an all-time high. I needed to persuade this kid to crack so I could get a few hours of sleep. Being the new guy on the force, I was lucky enough to pull patrol duty all day tomorrow.
“Don’t get smart with me, you little shit,” I hissed as I pointed my finger at the kid. “Two girls left the party at your house and are now in the hospital after they wrapped their car around a damn tree. They’re lucky to still be breathing.” I leaned closer toward the kid’s face, hoping to scare his conscience awake. The problem was, I wasn’t sure the little punk even had one.
The hold on my anger hung by a thread, ready to snap at any given moment. I walked around the table, using my sheer size as intimidation since I couldn’t throttle him. And damn, did I want to lay his ass out. “So we can do this the easy way, Brandon, or the hard way. Unless you admit to who supplied that little alcohol buffet we busted up, I guarantee the rest of your days in this town will not go easy. That is, if your parents let you out of the house ever again.”
The kid’s face paled. Just as he opened his mouth to spit out what I hoped was a name, a door opened across the room, catching our attention. Alan Raftzen peered through the steel frame until we made eye contact.
“Lexington. A word?”
I placed my hands on my hips and looked down at my superior. I stood a good six inches taller than Alan. I was a big guy at six foot three, but the thick muscle covering every inch of my body had to be more intimidating than my height. I glared at him, running my tongue over my teeth in irritation, or maybe just to hold back from biting his head off.
“Now?” I asked, my voice shaking with disbelief.
He disappeared behind the door, a clear indication for me to follow. I stalked into the side room and made my way to the water cooler, being sure to keep an eye on the kid through the two-way mirror.
“Want to grab a beer after work?”
I turned to face him; my cup of water stalled halfway to my mouth. “Are you shitting me? That’s why you pulled me outta there?”
Alan grinned. “Thought maybe you needed a little breather. That whole scene with the falling chair was a bit dramatic.” My eyes closed slowly and then reopened as Alan went on, “Brandon Waters threw a kegger. Ease up a little, huh? The kid’s not a suspect for murder.”
The empty paper cup in my hand crumpled as I squeezed my fingers into a fist. I couldn’t believe this shit. While I understood there were levels to each crime, what Brandon did was still wrong. And a wrong is a wrong. Period. “It wasn’t just the kegger, Raftzen, and you know it. Those kids were all blasted out of their damn minds. Did you see all the empty liquor bottles? Shit.” I nodded toward Brandon in the interrogation room. “He needs to learn a lesson.”
He nodded. “Right, and it’s up to his parents to teach him one. They’re on their way, Brandon’s been written a ticket for possession as a minor, the school will make him sit out two extracurricular activities, and life as we know it will go back to normal. Glenview’s a small town. He’s not the first kid to throw a party, and he definitely won’t be the last.”
“There are two teenagers in the hospital because of this, and the kid responsible for throwing the party gets off with a damn ticket?” I ran my hand through my hair, causing the dark strands to stand on end.
“Yeah, because they got in a car on their own will and drove away intoxicated. Once the bloodwork comes back from the lab, they’ll have to deal with their consequences, too. Trust me, Alex, I want to make the world a better place—the same as you do—but you’ve got to rein it in, buddy. You are no longer bringing down big-time criminals in the FBI. You’re a town cop in Glenview, Iowa. The sooner you wrap your head around that fact, the better. Now… Brandon’s parents will be here soon to take him home. Let’s get the paperwork filed for this shit and be done. Our shift is over in half an hour and we’ll go grab a beer.”
My shoulders slumped. Every time someone reminded me I was no longer in the FBI, a feeling washed over me.
Remorse? Regret? Disappointment?
I couldn’t place it for certain, but it sure as hell didn’t feel good. Not even in the least.
At first, I’d blamed Charlotte. I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t help it. She wasn’t the one who had gotten herself into the mess that got her kidnapped—her dead husband was.
I stretched my shoulder; an unconscious movement whenever I thought about that day in Carlito’s warehouse. I could still feel the searing pain as the lead ripped through flesh and muscle in my shoulder.
One little, career-ending bullet.
I’d been in this funk for almost a month. And while everyone told me it would take time to get settled into my new life in Glenview, I really thought it would be easier. Being a police officer in a sleepy little town of a few thousand people was nothing compared to my life in Chicago. Yeah, we saw our fair number of arrests for drugs, domestics, and we broke up the occasional bar fight at The Hornet, but I’d just brought down Tony Carlito. The biggest, baddest, meanest sonofabitch in the Chicago crime scene. I’d worked on his case for years, pouring everything I had into making sure that asshole went away forever. Going from that case to the Glenview Police Department felt like a step in the wrong direction.
I looked down at my scuffed boots. “I hear ya, boss, but I’m back on patrol first thing in the morning. I think I’ll finish up some paperwork and just crash in the locker room tonight.”
Alan stared at me, not moving, or giving any indication he’d even heard what I’d said. Finally, he let out a dramatic sigh. “Fine, but don’t overdo it. Get your shit done and get some sleep.”
I jerked my chin at Raftzen and made my way to my desk, feeling guilty that I’d turned down his offer to hang out. I didn’t do much of anything besides eat, sleep, and work.
Ever.
My life had been focused on the goal since I graduated from the Academy. After I made my way into the FBI, it got even worse. Then, the whole eat and sleep portion even became slim. Work consumed every aspect of my life.
Releasing a deep breath, I shuffled through the papers on my desk to get them in order. Maybe I did need to let loose a little. Shake some of the shit free I’d been holding on to for so long. Or maybe I just needed to find a woman and burn off my nervous energy. I hadn’t sampled the local flavor since I got to Glenview. Hell, I didn’t even know if there was anyone in this tiny town worth the effort.
And when was the last time I got laid? I tried to think back. It had been in Chicago; I knew that much—so at least two months ago—if not longer. My neck cracked as I shifted my head from side to side, releasing the tension slowly building in my skull.
I’d just buckled down to knock out my paperwork when the front door opened. With no receptionist staffed this late at night, I watched carefully as Raftzen walked up to greet the middle-aged couple. They had to be Brandon’s parents. The mother looked pale, li
kely worried about her precious boy, while the dad stood at her side. Jaw set tight as stone, he looked ready to bust some ass. Good, maybe the kid would learn something from this after all.
Fifteen minutes later, I’d finished my paperwork and filed it in the appropriate cabinet, saving a copy to the master server online. The interrogation room door opened with a bang and I jumped. My eyes widened in surprise as Brandon was forced through. With his dad’s hand planted firmly on the back of his neck, he kept his eyes pointed toward the floor as they made their way across the room.
“After all the shit you’ve put us through, now this? What the ever-loving fuck, Brandon?” The hair on my arms stood on end. I understood being pissed at your kid for doing stupid teenage shit, but something in his tone set me off.
The mother bustled behind, trying to calm the dad. “Paul, honey, please take a breath.”
Paul cut his eyes toward his wife. They were cold. Hard. His body leaned closer to her as he stared, almost challenging her to defy him. The woman visibly shrank under his glare before he spoke. “I do not need to take a goddamned breath, Nancy. What I need to do is teach everyone in my house how to have some fucking respect.”
Brandon’s eyes widened in fear and he quickly chimed in, “It’s okay, Mom. I know throwing that party was stupid. I promise it won’t happen again, and I deserve whatever punishment you guys give me.”
Shielding the mother. Never a good sign.
Paul thrust one finger in his son’s face. “Damn right it won’t happen again, you worthless piece of shit. No more chances. Next time, I ship your ass out of town, you got me?”