TRUE HERO: A Romantic Suspense Novel (True Hearts Series Book 1)
Page 1
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Epilogue
true HERO
by
SUSAN OWENSBY
true HERO
By Susan Owensby
Copyright © 2017 Susan Owensby
Charlotte Blowe Stanley – Editor
Due to scenes of violence and sexual content, this material isn’t suitable for readers under the age of 18.
This book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Cover Design by Susan Owensby Garwood of Wicked Women Designs
Stock Photo Purchased from Deposit Photo © sarininka © Coy_Creek and iStock © vuk8691
DEDICATION
For my mom and dad, this wouldn’t have been possible if you had not taught me to never give up. I hope I made you proud. I love you both so very much.
–I am because of you…
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
About the Book
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Blurb
Ally
On the run, with no one to turn to,
I’m doing all I can to stay alive, protect myself, and my little boy.
I left everything behind, determined to start over and give my child a normal life.
I have rules. Rules I have to follow. Rules that keep me alive.
1. Keep my head down.
2. Keep life simple.
3. Trust no one.
That definitely includes retired Navy Seal Jonah Bradford. He’s completely off limits.
It doesn’t matter if he wakes up the woman inside of me.
I can’t be that woman anymore. No matter how much he makes me wish I could.
Jonah
Giving up my career to run the family business wasn’t an easy decision. Once a SEAL, always a SEAL.
Yet, I’ve adjusted. I like my life, but something is missing.
One look at the freckle-faced beauty working at the local diner and I know exactly what it is.
But, I’m alive today by following my instincts and everything about Ally is setting off alarm bells that scream she’s trouble.
I don’t care. I want her.
The problem is she won’t give me the time of day.
That’s okay. I like a challenge.
I just have to uncover all of her secrets and end the fear that keeps shining in her eyes.
Operation Ally is underway.
Prologue
Ally
Nervously straightening my shirt first and then trying to smooth back my fly-away hair with shaking hands, I knew there were only two outcomes possible today. Our lack of options was a bitter pill to choke down. Testifying against my deranged husband Tom, would either set us free or condemn us to a life of hell.
As I stared at my reflection in the mirror above the sink, I thought back to that last night Tom was home before he was arrested. When he whipped me that last time, something snapped in me. As each lash landed across my scarred back, he yelled words of condemnation, which was his norm, but then he said that Jacob would be next if I didn’t commit to being his alibi.
Tom was being investigated by the Drug Enforcement Agency for selling drugs and guns. The detectives were questioning everyone who knew him and I was next on their list. He had his buddies at the precinct covering for him, but he felt I was a wild card. I actually worried him. He believed Jacob was my Achilles heel. He was right. If he hit my baby with even a fourth of the strength that he hit me, Tom would surely kill him.
After he left that night, I cleaned myself up as best as I could and pulled out the cell phone he didn’t know about. It was for one person only. The only person in the world that might be able to help us. But I was still scared to trust her. Kathy had been my lifeline for a few years now.
I was given a card with just a phone number on it from a nurse when I had given birth to Jacob. The nurse tried to get me to call that day but, I refused. She packed the card along with the baby diapers she sent home with me though. In the past, I called Kathy after my beatings, just to talk. To have another human being to connect to. Someone to understand what I was going through. Each time, she begged me to let her help us. I never had the courage to accept her offer. Until now. I would not let him touch Jacob. It was either call her and set things in motion, with no turning back or take the chance that this monster would kill not just me, but my baby boy too. I made the call and we met the next day.
When I met Kathy, I was so scared. She had given me odd directions to take. Different buses going in opposite directions and then we had to walk the rest of the way to the spot where someone would pick us up. She gave me specific code words and swore with her life that we would be safe while meeting her. I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t the person standing before me. Kathy was older, maybe in her fifties, blonde hair that was greying but what stood out the most was the horrible burn scars on the left side of her body. But when she smiled at me, my heart gave a flutter and I knew she was a kindred spirit. She knew what my life was like
because she had lived it at one time. I was safe with her.
Kathy would set everything in motion but it would take a little while to set it all up. It was an underground railroad of sorts. Each participant that helped abused men, women and children only knew a portion of the journey. That way, no one person ever held too much information that could be tracked down. They supplied new identities, a bit of money and a whirlwind of different transportations to get us from one safe house to the next.
She warned me that it could be months or even years before we would be able to settle down in one place, but it could still be dangerous if we stayed too long.
Kathy smiled at me and said, “I am so happy to meet you, Ally Black and even more so to meet this sweet boy, Samuel Black. These will be your new names from now on and you will be supplied with everything you need for identification. A driver’s license, passports, social security cards and birth certificates. The first few months you will not get to choose where you go but after that you can pick. It can’t be anywhere that Tom would know about. Is there anywhere special you might have in mind?”
“I had already planned to leave, Kathy, because I am being watched everywhere I go. I can’t even trust the police with Tom’s connections having such a far reach. I don’t have a lot of money and my car is on its last leg. I did however look at a map and picked a town Tom knows nothing about. It’s where my Gram’s grew up. The town is named Wordly and it’s located in Illinois, just far enough away that maybe I can breathe a little,” I told her nervously biting the inside of my cheek.
“Ok, Ally, I like this plan. But you must know that you will always have to remain vigilant. No banking. Pay your bills in cash and we will scout a place for rent that will accept cash. You may not live an extravagant life, but you will live and isn’t that the point to all of this? Do you think you can handle it? I won’t lie to you, it’s not going to be easy,” Kathy asked me as she held my hands firmly as a mother would with a scared child.
I sat for a few minutes and thought about what was coming if I didn’t do this. There was no choice if I wanted both Jacob and me to live. As I nodded my head to her, we both stood up and Kathy embraced me like a mother saying goodbye.
“Ally, you can do this. I know you can. You could not have survived this long, if you were not a strong person. The nightmares will follow you for a long time but I promise they will grow less and less. Be wary when needed, always vigilant and most importantly, go live your life. We will be here if you need us. The last person in your chain will give you a cell phone and passphrase in case of an emergency but you may only use it once. There is one more backup if that doesn’t work, but I am not privy to that information as it’s different for each family. I will be in contact as soon as everything is ready. Take as little as possible with you. It will be swift traveling when it begins. Godspeed to you, dear girl.”
With a final hug goodbye, we headed home in another bizarre zig-zag and I prayed the entire time that Tom didn’t know I was anywhere other than Jacob’s checkup with his pediatrician.
Shaking myself free of the memory and digging deeply for strength, I stared at myself and said, “You can do this Sarah. You can. Do it for Jacob. If you don’t, sooner or later, he will move on to hurting him. You cannot let that happen.”
Shoring up my inner reserves, I turned my numb body toward the exit door of the ladies’ room in the county courthouse. They would be calling my name soon and I would have to see my biggest mistake face to face, in full view of a crowded courtroom.
Chapter One
Ally
3 years later
Coffee. Coffee. Coffee. Just the thought gave me the boost I needed to climb out from under the nest of warm blankets I slept in every night on a secondhand pull-out couch that I named Mr. Back Breaker. That creaky contraption really did a number on my back, but it was still better than the cold floor.
Every morning was the same, up at five a.m. to start the generic, dark French roast. The lack of a name brand didn’t bother me, so long as it was strong and bitter. My caramel creamer alleviated the bitterness. Once it was waiting in my cup, I inhaled deeply. Ahhh, heaven on earth. And after that first sip, my life felt complete.
Once I drowned my fatigue with a full cup, I made my son breakfast. How I wished his young palate would wake up, wanting ham and eggs or biscuits and gravy, but no such luck. It was Froot Loops or Apple Jacks for Sam. I insisted that he at least eat a few slices of an apple so I felt as if he was eating properly.
Packing lunch for Sam was always the same also, peanut butter and jelly, an orange and fruit juice. By the time, he was ready, we had to hurry to the bus stop. Once he was safely on the way to school, I had to push myself hard to get ready for work.
Waitressing was not my dream job, but it paid the bills. Working the middle shift from ten a.m. to seven p.m. was grueling work. Though it took its toll on our family time, the tips earned from both the lunch and dinner rushes were vital to our survival. Thank heavens for Frannie. If not for her, I wouldn’t have been able to make the extra money.
She adopted Sam as her honorary grandson, since she and her late husband were never able to have children. And my son? He loved her more than my cookies! I couldn’t believe he turned down my cookies to go to Fran’s last weekend.
Would I rather be at a comfy desk job working nine to five? Of course, I would! We had to give up so much. My son lost the most – his friends, his school, his home, his toys. Just about everything we were used to. Some creature comforts like, cable TV and internet were suddenly luxuries we could not afford. Sam had to sacrifice so much, too much for a little one. It would get better I reminded myself daily. We just had to watch our backs, keep a low profile, and trust no one. Ever.
I rushed around grabbing the bits and pieces of my uniform, which seemed to have mysteriously shrunk lately, a black skirt that I had to shimmy and wiggle into without falling over since I was a glutton for Frank’s home cooking, a button up white shirt that always gaped in the center of my um… generous chest giving the entire world a boob flash and a pink apron. Yep, pink. It was not a flattering uniform but hey, it could’ve been worse. I, for sure, needed to snack a little less and start exercising before my uniform split in the middle of dinner rush. That was definitely something that would happen to me and right in front of Mr. Dreamy Eyes. Starting tomorrow, first thing on my list was to look for a gym. Maybe.
Working five full days and one half day was exhausting. Staring at myself in the tiny mirror above the sink in our quaint bathroom, I prepare to put on my new face. For a second, I honestly did not recognize myself. Once upon a time, I had long, beautiful, natural curly hair that had a mind of its own. And its color came from my beloved grandmother. Whenever I thought of her my heart ached that she was no longer with us. But, I had her beautiful strawberry blonde hair and most days, red was all that could be seen. And with the red? Freckles. Yep. Tons of freckles. As a child, she told me to be proud of my Irish roots and not to hide my freckles, which embarrassed me. That seemed so long ago. My heart broke just a little more. My long shiny red hair was gone now and in its place, a rich dark brown, almost auburn, and it was cut just below my shoulders. The shortest it had ever been in my life. I used one of those burn your fingers off straightening irons to take out the curl every single day and I had scars to prove it. In the past, I seldom wore more than a touch of mascara and eyeliner. With my new life, I used everything, shadow, blush, extra black eyeliner to make my Irish green eyes seem darker, almost an azure blue.
“Hey there, Ally. Who the hell are you? Who will you be? Tell Sarah I know she is in there and I miss her.” Yes, I talked to my former self. Sometimes it was the only way I could stay sane and on track to make sure we were safe from my mistake. I could not forget who we were. We would, by the grace of God, be them again someday. There had to be someone that could help and protect us. But I couldn’t turn to the police, the very people supposed to uphold the law and protect me, what was I supposed to d
o? So, I ran. That was the only option left. Run and keep running.
I glanced down at my watch and squealed, “Not again! Just get to work or you are going to be late, Ally.”
Halfway through the lunch rush, Frank, the owner and head cook at Dine With Us truck stop, threw a fit over a wrong order, again. Cleaning a table next to the counter, I could see poor Frannie, a soft-spoken woman, catching hell again for writing the order incorrectly. It was the second time this shift. In all fairness, Frannie just started waitressing with us, part-time, three months ago.
Frannie was our neighbor and had been a dear friend since we moved in. She had not worked in years, but due to the untimely death of her husband of over twenty-five years, she found herself without enough money to support herself in her later years. Fran gave my heart an extra jump whenever I was near. She reminded me of my grandmother and home.
Home, back when life was beautiful and full of family and friends, back when there was no pain, no wondering if he would come home to love me, taunt me or hurt me.
So, I breathed Frannie in every chance I got, to calm my heart and keep going for my son, Sam.
Frank, on the other hand, was a bear sized man that wouldn’t hurt a flea. Most people didn’t know that though because he had to keep up appearances, since the diner could bring in rowdy bunches on the weekends. No one would ever guess that Frank was an Army Ranger back in his day and not one to underestimate. When that big guy gave you a hug, it felt like nothing in the world could touch you. It was so full of warmth, love and protection kind of like a father who would slay dragons for his kids.
I had to intervene before he went overboard, so with my hands on my hips, I said, “Frank, seriously, calm down. It was a simple mistake. She didn’t mean to do it and making a mountain out of a molehill isn’t doing anyone a bit of good.”
“I don’t care! That’s money out of my pocket, not yours! I can yell at her if I want to!” Frank fired back at me.