Till I Found You: The Broken Hero Series—Book One

by Fernandez, Michelle

  Was he the type of man Chloe could fall for?

  She held out her hand. “I’m Chloe Channing.”

  The corners of his mouth curled up, showing off his to-die-for dimples. “Booker.” His low, gravelly voice sent warm waves spiraling through her, seducing her in one look, one word. His large hand engulfed hers.

  Booker?

  The vision of her past faded, her name echoed in the background.

  “Chloe, you okay?” Booker asked, rubbing her arm.

  She opened her eyes.

  At first, words failed her as she came to.

  Standing in Julian’s arms…or should she call him Booker?

  Her stomach turned upside down, a tension knotted in her abdomen. Her head spun, temples pounded.

  Confusion flicked to anger.

  Blood boiled in her veins.

  The clouds of emotions, overanalyzing the past several days, it had come into fruition.

  “The gala.” Chloe paced the wood floor, pushed back her errant hair. “Julian, you were there. I mean Booker…it was you. Oh my god…it was you this whole time. You knew, and you didn’t say a word. You lied.” Her hard stare pinned him motionless. “You’re not just the handyman or the chauffeur.”

  “Dude, what the hell is wrong with her?” Lincoln asked, adjusting his crotch.

  “She rambles when she’s nervous.”

  Chloe stepped closer, raised an eyebrow in disbelief, anger and confusion. Her hand balled into a tight fist as it sailed over his jaw.

  “You asshole.”

  “Dammit, Chloe.” Booker rubbed the sting in his chin.

  “Ouch.” Chloe winced and shook her fist out. “I hope that hurt you more than it hurt me.”

  Booker gave a half-cocked smile. Mom always told him his jaw was made like a tank. “You’re gonna need to ice your hand, Doc.”

  Chloe’s bottomless eyes locked with Booker’s in a high-voltage stare.

  Yup. She’s gone ballistic.

  Silence hung in the room for a moment. The only sound was Lincoln’s footsteps that echoed toward the kitchen. Booker watched Linc grab a hand towel from the counter and ice from the freezer and bundle up a makeshift icepack.

  Lincoln coughed with wide eyes, breaking the awkward stillness. “Come on, Miss Fists of Fury, let’s sit.” He extended his hand, gesturing Chloe to the couch. “This icepack was really for me, but it looks like you need it more.” Chloe flinched when Lincoln laid the icepack on her knuckles. “Glad those lessons paid off. You’re lucky Tweedledee and Tweedledum didn’t get a hold of you.”

  “Who?”

  “The kidnappers,” Booker quickly answered as he turned and faced the window. “I still fucked up and those clowns got away.”

  He gazed at the setting sun over the horizon leaving iridescent clouds of pink and orange in the sky. A small road led up to the secluded safe house tucked in the hills and surrounded by palm trees. Just like the estate, the safe house was secured and a few cameras kept watch around the perimeter. His new orders were to keep her there and out of sight for the next few days.

  “I need my phone,” Chloe said. “I need to call Ry—”

  “Your phone is gone.” Booker turned to her and cast a veiled stare.

  “What do you mean, my phone is gone?”

  “I needed to disable your phone. With all the different apps to find you, we can’t take any chances. We’ve got people looking at who tried to take you.”

  “Why would someone want to take me?” Chloe’s forehead creased.

  Lincoln spoke up. “Sweetheart, that’s what we’re trying to figure out...can you tell us what they said to you?”

  “Not much. Just that their boss has been waiting for me.”

  Booker’s stomach twisted, anger boiling in his veins, guilt consumed him. One slip was all the kidnappers needed and Booker fed it to them on a silver platter. Tyco had been working diligently tracking down Tweedledee and the Tweedledum, hoping to lead to the unsub.

  Tyco had hacked into the street cameras. The black van had no plates and a bearded Tweedledum wore sunglasses and a cap while waiting in the driver’s seat.

  Tyco had also retrieved the boutique’s CCTV cameras. Tweedledee, who’d had Chloe at gunpoint, overshadowed and overpowered her. He was over six feet tall, about three hundred twenty pounds and most likely redheaded from his goatee and sprigs of hair that peeked from his hat. It was clever for the unsub to have hired the two bozos to masquerade the unsub’s involvement.

  Lincoln jutted his chin at Booker. “He’s got new orders now.”

  “Orders?”

  “Linc, that’s enough,” Booker muttered. “You’re saying too much.”

  Chloe’s vacant eyes switched from Lincoln to Booker then back to Linc. “Can one of you please tell me what the hell is going on?” She pressed the icepack over her hand. “How can I be sure you guys aren’t the ones who tried to kidnap me today?”

  Booker dropped in to the chair opposite of Chloe and Lincoln.

  Elbows on his knees, his face fell between his shoulders. Rage vibrated through him seeing the images of the large man running from the huddle of people and the screech of the van’s tires burning rubber after he hopped in the passenger seat.

  Sheer black fright had swept over him when he found Chloe’s body lying still on the concrete. Booker had checked her pulse, looked for any wounds. He was relieved to see her breathing and unharmed.

  Booker lifted his head, eyes locked on Chloe. “We are not the bad guys. You were knocked out on the ground when I found you. Then I brought you here.”

  “How long have I been sleeping?”

  “A couple of hours, give or take,” Booker answered softly.

  “Tell me what’s going on,” Chloe huffed, then darted to Lincoln. “Why are you here?”

  “First, let me formerly introduce myself. My name is Dylan Marshall. But my friends call me Lincoln.”

  “So, you’re Lincoln.” Chloe raised a brow.

  He winked. “The one and only.”

  “Sorry about kicking you in the balls.”

  “Yeah… I’m still feeling it. But, you’re forgiven, sweetheart.”

  “Why Lincoln?”

  “Because I tell it like it is. No bullshit, no lies.”

  “Then tell me like it is, Lincoln. Since your friend is full of bullshit and lies.” Her eyes pitched to Booker’s.

  “Chloe, I had no choice.”

  “Everyone has a choice.” Chloe rose from her chair still holding the icepack over her hand. “You lied to me, Julian…Booker…whatever the hell your name is.” She walked into the kitchen, tossed the icepack in the sink making a loud thud. “Everything we talked about… You told me things...you made me believe you had feelings...” Chloe took a breath. “Was that all part of your orders, too?” Her voice cracked, laced with hurt.

  “Nothing’s changed. I’m the same person.” Booker roughly rubbed his face. “I know you’re shocked—”

  “Shocked? That’s an understatement. Words cannot begin to describe half the shit I’m feeling right now.”

  Lincoln stood, looked at his watch. “Oh wow, look at the time...it’s getting late.” He smiled at Chloe. “Fists of Fury, it was a pleasure…until next time. And I suggest you keep putting ice on your hand.”

  Lincoln walked to the front door, opened it and looked back at Chloe. “One more thing… Don’t bust his balls. It’s important to hear the whole truth. Booker really does care about you.” Lincoln’s eyes shifted to Booker. “Hey man...go easy on her. She’s had a rough day. I’ll call you in the morning with an update.” Lincoln gave him a chin lift and closed the door.

  A veil of stillness sucked the air out of the room. Booker tried to formulate words to say to her. But he couldn’t. There was no getting out of this mess.

  She needed to know the truth.

  Booker rose from the chair and walked to the bedroom, leaving Chloe in the kitchen. He squatted down, opened the small door that revealed the safe
. He punched in the code and turned the lever to open the heavy door. He stared at the case file.

  It was time for her to know the whole truth.

  Booker took the folder out and returned to the kitchen, where Chloe had not moved. Her arms crossed over her chest; she narrowed her eyes, looking at his hand.

  “What’s that?”

  “The truth.” Booker set the folder on the kitchen island. “I’m so sorry… I can explain—”

  “The last time a man said that to me, I walked out on him.” Chloe wiped a fallen tear. She slowly opened the folder and flipped through the documents, police reports and photographs. “What the hell is all this?”

  “Your father hired us to protect you. We’ve been shadowing you since your attack.”

  “Oh. My. God. Are you saying the man who tried to kidnap me is the same person who stabbed me?”

  “We aren’t sure. An associate of ours, Tyco, is looking into that as we speak.”

  “Tyco…Lincoln…and you. Who are you guys?”

  Booker then told Chloe about KSIG and his assignment. As expected, Chloe didn’t take it too well. He anticipated it would be a clusterfuck once Chloe found out the truth of who he really was. This mission was like walking on a road of shattered glass. No matter how careful his words were, he would still be cut with every step.

  “You weren’t supposed to find out this way. Or at all.”

  “Not find out? Are you kidding me? A freakin’ maniac killed my mom and is now after me? And you’re telling me I wasn’t supposed to find out.”

  “Your father wanted it this way.”

  “And did my father tell you to whisper sweet bullshit in my ear so I would fall for you?”

  “No,” Booker muttered, defeated, tortured. “I meant what I said. From the moment I met you at the fundraiser, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. The timing was all wrong—”

  “And the timing is just so fucking perfect now, isn’t it?”

  Frustrated, Booker cupped the back of his neck. “What do you want me to say, Chloe? I never lied to you.”

  “Last I checked, omission is a form of lying. And you’ve been lying to me since the moment we landed… Is your name really Julian or is that fake like our relationship?”

  “Yes, that’s my name. My real name. Is that what you think of us…fake?”

  “I don’t know what to think. I feel so numb.” Chloe pressed her fingers to her temples. “I need some time alone. This is just too much.”

  Booker nodded his acceptance, but when Chloe didn’t move, he cautiously stepped closer, hoping she wouldn’t shove him away. He needed to be close to her, needed her touch. She was his weakness and his strength. He lowered his gaze, held it there.

  She was alive and safe.

  “Chloe, please don’t push me away.” He took her hand, the one she had punched him with, and kissed her knuckles.

  Chloe pulled back. “I need to take a shower. I can still smell that asshole’s stench on me.”

  “I got a few of your things from the house.”

  “Why? Are we going on a trip?”

  “We need to stay put for a couple of days.”

  “This is so surreal.” She shook her head. “I can’t…”

  “I am not going to put your life in danger again. I fucked up. I should’ve never taken my eyes off you.” Booker swiped a fallen curl behind her ear. “Please, I need for you to trust me. There was a time you did, remember?”

  “Right now, there are things I wish I didn’t remember.” Chloe pressed her lips together, slowly turned on her heels and retreated down the hall, leaving Booker alone in the kitchen.

  Booker sighed. He needed to give her some time to decompress after what had just been thrown at her.

  After a couple of hours, Chloe was still in the room. Booker softly knocked. No answer. He slowly turned the handle, opened it a few inches. He whispered her name then scanned the room. The lamp beside the bed dimly lit her body lying peacefully on the bed.

  “Can I come in?”

  He rounded the mattress, seeing her eyes closed and the twisted towel wrapped around her head.

  Snuggled with the pillows, Booker pulled the blanket and covered her. He sat on the chair opposite of the bed, though he wanted to lie down and wrap her in his arms. It killed him giving her the distance she demanded.

  She was exhausted as was he.

  Booker could use the sleep since it was well into the night, but he would rather take the pleasure of watching every breath she took. His heart ached knowing how he hurt her.

  Would she forgive him?

  Emotions whirled inside him, cursing to himself more times than he could count. The day started out good and got even better until he let his guard down and the perfect storm ravaged the rest of the day.

  The only reason he let his guard down was because of Chloe. He’d gone back into the jewelry store and asked the clerk to hold the necklace for him so he could buy it later. By any means, he wasn’t blaming Chloe for his stupidity because none of this was her fault.

  It was truly his and his alone.

  Anger possessed him and all he could think about was getting his hands on the kidnappers. It gutted him and his stomach knotted knowing their intent to kidnap Chloe was to kill her. But why?

  What was it about Chloe that made him forget all his training? Never once had he failed a mission. He was skilled in protecting his clients.

  Chloe wasn’t just a client, she was his reason to love again. All the more to keep his guard up. But he screwed up royally…for the last time.

  Booker’s biggest fear was Chloe walking out of his life. He truly believed they were meant to be. He had been so lost, walking blindly until he found her. Booker rose from the chair and lowered his head to kiss her softly on the cheek.

  “I love you, Chloe Channing.” His feathered whisper barely heard, even by him.

  Booker left her to sleep, quietly closing the door behind him. He collapsed onto the couch in the living room, propped up a pillow and tucked his arm under his head. His legs stretched over the length of the couch and his sluggish body sunk into the cushions as the weight of the world pressed against his chest.

  My sweet Chloe. I need to keep you safe. I can’t let anything happen to you. This is a damn clusterfuck…fucking complicated like a Rubik’s cube. What did I expect? That you would just jump in my arms and think the shit that I’ve been hiding would just be swept under the rug?

  I fucked up… I should’ve told her. But I couldn’t. I was under orders…damn case. I need her to trust me again. And what the hell is wrong with me? I haven’t even made love to her and I just told her I love her.

  But that was all it took. Her delicious kisses, her touches and her scent.

  I’m not going to lose you…not like I did with Amber.

  Amber. Fuck, can I love two women, the woman of my past and the woman I hope will be in my future?

  It was true.

  Chloe was the first woman he’d loved since Amber and he was going to prove it to her. His compassion for her went deeper than he ever imagined possible. The thought of almost losing her today made his pulse race and shattered his heart in a million pieces.

  Even though this woman had healed the wounds of his past, grabbed his heart and bound it to hers, his past was still there and he needed to keep it there where it belonged. Booker had to find a way, deep down, to say goodbye to his past. He needed to forgive himself first. But it was easier said than done.

  One more thing. Eliminate the threat, even if it took his last breath.

  As long as Chloe was safe. That’s all that mattered.

  Even if Chloe never forgave him for lying to her.

  “Judge.” Red’s nervous voice cracked through the phone line. “She um…got away and ran into the crowd. I couldn’t risk it. There were too many witnesses.”

  “Did I hear you right? You lost her?” the Judge hissed, drumming her red fingernails on the wooden countertop. “You idiots keep fucki
ng things up for me. It’s not like this is a hard job…all you had to do was grab the bitch and throw her ass in the van.” The Judge signaled to the handsome bartender, lifting the empty short glass once filled with scotch. “Bartender, another scotch on the rocks.”

  The bartender grabbed a clean glass, dropped a few ice cubes in it and filled it with the amber liquid. He placed the scotch on a white napkin in front of her. The Judge waited for the bartender to step away.

  “Where is she now?”

  “That’s just it—we don’t know. We’ve been camped out in front of the estate for hours and she hasn’t arrived.”

  “Find her. You have two days. Do I need to remind you that you don’t get paid and I have enough information on you two asswipes that I can have you put away for a very long time?”

  “What if we can’t find her?”

  “Consider our contract terminated and I go straight to the cops.”

  “Our chances of getting to her now are slim to none, boss. That boyfriend of hers—”

  “I don’t give a flying fuck about her boyfriend or her airheaded friends. Chloe’s a problem and a loose end.” The Judge’s voice was slow and threatening. “Need I remind you? I have the knife with your fingerprints that you stabbed Chloe with. And the proof your pathetic brother dropped off those pictures at her apartment. Don’t forget that.”

  “Yes, Judge…but—”

  “No buts. Find her,” she ordered, hitting the red ‘end’ button on the disposable phone and dropping it into her clutch.

  The Judge squared her shoulders, smoothed her long brown hair. She was a confident woman and was not about to her lose her shit over Red and Larry’s sloppy mistake.

  She stifled a laugh, loved how those two idiots called her the Judge. And she took pride in being just that…judge, jury and executioner.

  Everything was going according to plan until Red lost her. Nevertheless, she had her bases covered. She had a backup plan. There was nothing that would trace back to her. The Judge was pleased with Larry’s driving skills when he rammed the truck into Sarah Channing’s Mercedes. She was also satisfied with Red stabbing Chloe even though he almost got caught by a Good Samaritan.