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

  Contents

  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

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  Book 2—Sneak Peek

  Acknowledgments

  Playlist

  About the Author

  Till I Found You

  Copyright © 2019 by Michelle Fernandez

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted on any form or by means including electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written consent of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are of the author’s imagination and are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  ISBN: 9781080595839

  ASIN: B07V54LS2P

  Editor—Michelle Morgan, Fiction Edit; https://www.FictionEdit.com

  Proofreading—Stephany Renfrow

  Cover Design—T.E. Black Designs; https://www.teblackdesigns.com

  Interior Design & Formatting—T.E. Black Designs; https://www.teblackdesigns.com

  To Oliver Drew:

  I know you’re singing, laughing and playing

  with all the Angels in Heaven!

  Booker glared at the papers scattered all over his desk. He had pored over every last detail of the case file for the last several hours, a case which wasn’t his to begin with. His office door would usually be open, since that was how the security firm operated.

  Full disclosure.

  But now, he needed it closed because he’d stolen this case from his teammate.

  The woman in the file blared inaudible sirens, calling to him. At the same time, something from his past pulled at him, haunting him to look the other way. There was something about this woman that wrestled and confused his thoughts.

  He needed to get his head straight, keep all emotions out and stay in control.

  It was the only way he could do his job.

  Booker rubbed his eyes, looking up to give them respite from the paperwork.

  The client was Judge Frank Channing, the woman’s father, a highly respected man of the courts. He had close ties with Charles ‘Knox’ Fremont, Head of Security of Knox’s Security Intelligence Group. So, when Judge Channing called in a favor for protective detail to watch his daughter, Knox and the team accepted with open arms.

  The Channing case was complicated. Knox wanted to handle the mission with kid gloves. Miss Channing’s past required such sensitivity. Knox had assigned Rochelle, nicknamed Rocky, since having a female shadow Miss Channing wouldn’t as easily scare her off.

  Booker stared at the 4x6 glossy photo paperclipped to the case file with all her information.

  Chloe Harper Channing. Twenty-nine. 5’8”. Brunette. Blue eyes.

  Damn…those eyes.

  They grabbed him…hook, line, and sinker.

  Booker’s mind returned to the night he met Chloe Channing two years ago. Her angelic face and eyes were a beacon in the sea of guests at the gala fundraiser event. When their eyes locked and he touched her hand, it was like a sucker punch in the stomach from Cupid. But it wasn’t the right time to be involved with a woman.

  Booker had no time for romance, nor wanted it.

  The darkness deep in his heart and the lingering shadow that took residence there still haunted him. His life was complicated as it was. To add a woman to the mix would only screw him up even more.

  He groaned at the irony of second chances. What was it about this assignment that called to him, compelled him to protect Chloe?

  His eyes veered to another photo, this one an 8x10 frame on the corner of his desk. He kissed the pads of his two fingers, sending up a silent prayer, and touched them to the woman’s face. It was his sacred ritual before he went on any assignment. His heart ached every time he looked at the woman in the framed photo.

  She was a reminder of why Booker was doing this job.

  There was a rumble outside his office and the roar of a particular woman’s voice Booker had been avoiding for the last two days. Being at KSIG for four years, he’d recognize her New York accent anywhere, a voice that packed a punch, not to mention she was the only female on the team.

  Fuck! I’m in deep shit now.

  He quickly gathered the remaining papers and photos as the door flew open, slamming against the opposing wall.

  “What the hell, Booker?” Rocky barged into his office, arms raised in anger. “I just came from Knox’s office. Why’d you take the Channing case? You know I’ve been working it for the last four months—”

  “I don't have time for this right now, I’ve got a flight to catch.” Booker stood, picked up the manila folder and shoved it in his brown leather shoulder bag.

  “I don’t care if you’re catching Air Force One! You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on. That was a dick move you pulled, and you know it.” She jabbed her finger into his chest. “You have no business taking my case.”

  Ouch! Booker rubbed his chest.

  “I finally got her to trust me and I can honestly say we’ve become friends,” Rocky said with

  narrowed eyes.

  “You can still be her friend.”

  “You. Prick! What the hell is wrong with you?” She sent him an I-will-cut-your-throat look.

  Booker glanced at the door Rocky had left open. He laughed to himself when he saw each teammate tiptoe past his office to dodge the argument—except for Lincoln, who could never pass an opportunity to hear gossip around the office.

  Booker shook his head when he glanced at Lincoln leaning on the doorjamb with his usual shit-eating grin. He didn’t expect any less from the guy.

  Rochelle Yamaguchi, a.k.a. Rocky, was not merely a teammate, she was like a little a sister to the team, as their Samurai Princess and the youngest recruit to KSIG. Her innocent and petite five-five persona should not be underestimated, though. She could hold her own and the team highly respected her. She was unassuming and intuitive—perfect for gathering intel—and the team had witnessed firsthand she could kick some ass; one would never want to be on the receiving end of her stinging hands and side-kicks.

  If Booker first approached Rocky regarding the Channing case, she would’ve flat out shut him down. So, he went behind her back.

  “Okay, you’re right… I’m a dick and I should’ve talked to you first. Look, it’s only for the next several weeks. After Miss Channing comes back from her vacation, you can pick up where you left off.”

  “Seriously? You’re kidding. Is this all a big ploy to get a trip to the Bahamas?”

  Booker had bribed Knox with an eighteen-year-old bottle of Macallan, his favorite scotch, in excha
nge for Rocky’s case. Knox appreciated Booker’s persistence and once approved, Booker immediately packed his bags and planned his flight out to the Channing Estate in the Bahamas.

  “Lucky bastard…you’re going to the Bahamas,” Lincoln cut in with wide eyes. “It’s about time you took a vacation.”

  Booker shook his head. “It’s not for pleasure, it’s all work.”

  Lincoln was Booker’s longtime friend and the closest he had to a brother. The two men had been SEAL teammates and Lincoln had joined the KSIG team a year after Booker was recruited. Their brotherhood went back to bootcamp where they met and trained for BUDs—Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL. As active SEALs, they’d saved each other’s lives so many times they’d lost count. Their loyalty had been tested, proven, and so it remained stronger than with their other teammates.

  Lincoln knew Booker better than anyone else on the team, but even he didn’t know why it was important for Booker to be on this case.

  “Do you mind?” Rocky leveled her eyes at Lincoln.

  “No, I don’t mind at all.” Lincoln gave a cocky smile and did a hand wave. “Carry on, please.”

  “This is an A and B conversation and doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

  “Dear little one, need I remind you, this is my office too and what happens in this office—”

  Rocky raised her hand in front of Lincoln’s face. “Shut it, Linc.” She turned to face Booker. “So, are you going to tell me why you stole my case, or do I have to guess?”

  “You wouldn’t understand if I told you.”

  “Try me,” Rocky said calmly as she moved to sit at the edge of his desk and crossed her arms.

  Booker checked his watch. Even though it was the company’s plane, he had to get to the airport and San Francisco traffic during rush hour was going to be a bitch.

  “I met her once, in passing. It was on an assignment a while back. And I just need to do this, okay?”

  “So, are you saying I can’t do my job?” Rocky patted her chest.

  “I didn’t say that, nor did I tell Knox that, either.”

  “This assignment is undercover.” She raised a brow. “How are you going to… Wait, was she one of your conquests?”

  “No, Roc. You know I don’t play that shit. I don’t think she’ll even remember me.” Once again, Booker glanced at the same framed picture of a smiling brunette woman on his desk. The reminder of who he once was and what he needed to do.

  “What if she does remember you? Then what?”

  “I have a backup plan.”

  Rocky tilted her head. “I don’t buy it. What’s the real reason?”

  Booker rubbed his face. “This is something I have to do. Please, Roc… understand me when I tell you this is important to me.”

  “I don’t know if I’m pissed at you for going behind my back”—Rocky pointed her thumb at Lincoln—“or being partnered with this idiot as his bitch for my new assignment.”

  “Hey, I resent that!” Lincoln bellowed. “You know I will take really good care of you.” He wiggled his eyebrows, scanning Rocky from head to toe. “Finally got my date with a princess.”

  “This is not a date…and for the last time, the answer is no.” Rocky raised a brow at him while Booker stifled a laugh. She hated being called ‘princess’ by any of the team, and Lincoln loved taunting Rocky just to get a rise out of her.

  Booker mumbled to Lincoln, “Bro, I wouldn’t start with Roc if you know what’s good for you.” He turned his focus back to Rocky but jutted his chin toward Lincoln. “I truly am sorry you got stuck with this donkey-boy. If he gets too frisky, kick him where it hurts.”

  She glared at Lincoln. “I’ll break both his hands and slice his dick off if he even thinks of getting frisky with me.” She walked toward Booker, tiptoed to kiss him on the cheek, then punched him in the stomach. Booker grunted from the light hit—well it wasn’t that light. “Don’t pull this shit again.”

  Booker pulled Rocky into a hug. “I won’t, I promise.” He kissed her forehead. “Thanks.”

  “No thanks needed. Just be safe. And just a hunch, I think the unsub is getting closer than we think. That’s why I had to befriend her to stay close and see what I can find out.”

  Booker nodded. “I’ll call you the moment I land to get more intel on Miss Channing. I gotta go. Wheels up in an hour.”

  Working at KSIG for the last four years was like working with family that Booker had grown to love more than life itself. Julian Cruz was Booker to the team, a callsign he’d earned when he was a SEAL. He hated the name, but he’d admit it suited him. During his deployments, the team teased him for bringing a book with him to read during their downtime. And when it came time to review the plans, Booker reviewed and studied them as if he were back in school preparing for an exam.

  Booker’s priority was the KSIG team, much like when he was a SEAL, which was only four years ago but felt like a lifetime ago. In some ways, Booker mused, it had been a lifetime ago. He missed being a SEAL, loved protecting and serving his country, but eliminating the enemy on his homeland was more important to him.

  Knox Fremont had recruited Booker and made him an offer he couldn’t refuse. It wasn’t the over-compensated offer, but the fact there were very few deployments overseas since most of the contracts were domestic.

  During the six-hour flight, Booker studied the file again. Chloe Channing was not just a name in a file. She was flesh and blood. And he was going to do everything in his power to keep her safe. Not only did he want the unknown subject locked up or killed, whichever came first, he wanted to get to know her. Why he felt this way about a woman he barely knew was beyond him.

  He studied her photo from the file. He was drawn to her mesmerizing smile, eyes that hypnotized him. Although these circumstances were not how he wanted to see her again, he thought there was a reason for everything. Perhaps fate was bringing them back together.

  Two Christmases ago, the Ritz Carlton venue had been decorated with sparkling gold and red ornaments and silk mesh streamers that hung from the ceiling. An impressive tree stood at the front of the ballroom by the stage with gifts underneath for the battered women and children. The band played holiday music and the singer seemed to enjoy the sight of the guests dancing below. The event hosted auctions, fashion shows, and accepted other donations to raise money for the organization.

  Booker’s role was security detail. Among the attendees were state and city representatives, the Chief of Police and his staff, wealthy influencers, and hospital personnel from where Doctor Sarah Channing practiced medicine, the hostess of the event and Chloe’s mother. Knox and his wife, Isabella, were also among the attendees.

  Although it was a simple assignment, Booker never let his guard down, especially with the exclusive guests in attendance.

  A woman fidgeting next to the check-in desk had caught Booker’s eye. She was leaning on the desk with her right hand and adjusted the strap of her four-inch-high heel with the other. Her dark chestnut hair was pulled up in a makeshift twist with soft wispy strands that softly fanned her face. The twitch in his pants awakened his arousal. His eyes followed the seductive lines of her body and the low dip of the dress that exposed her smooth back.

  “Damn stilettos, what was I thinking? Remember why you’re here…it’s for a good cause,” she mumbled. The attractive woman turned her head, looked up at Booker, and smiled. “These god-awful shoes are killing me. That’s what I get for not breaking them in first.”

  He was captivated by her sexy kitten voice followed by her cute-as-hell rambling. The thought of having a one-night stand with her, the things he’d love to do to and with her, was making him hard. But this woman had class and was indeed a lady to be respected.

  Booker needed to think with the head above his belt and keep the other in his pants. He’d never jeopardize his job to satisfy his needs.

  But this woman… There was something about her that tempted his will, his control.

  Booker had li
fted a brow. “Sounds like you may need someone to give you a foot massage.” The scent of peaches like a spring morning overwhelmed his senses and now he’d wondered what the stunning woman’s name was.

  She slipped her shoe back on and scrambled up from her slouched position, looking flustered by the rosiness in her cheeks. “I’m Chloe Channing.” She stuck her hand out toward him.

  “Booker,” he’d said.

  And felt the instant spark when he looked right into her blue-green eyes.

  Damn, she is so beautiful.

  She bit her bottom lip and he wondered if she felt it too. There was no way Booker could ignore the chemistry. Her eyes twinkled and the look she gave him could make any man go crazy. Adrenaline rushed throughout his body, something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

  “Just Booker? Does it come with another name, like Bond—James Bond?” she joked with a slight snort, putting a hand over her mouth.

  Fucking cute as hell.

  Booker realized he’d been holding onto her other hand longer than he should’ve. “My apologies.” He cleared his throat, letting go. “And yes, it’s just Booker.”

  “I didn’t mean to—”

  He stifled a laugh. “It’s a nickname my friends gave me.”

  “Is it for ‘book ’em Danno’?”

  “Hawaii Five-0… Cute, real cute. What do you know about Hawaii Five-0?”

  “My dad. He’s a big fan and still watches reruns.” Chloe looked over Booker’s shoulder, then smiled. “So, are you going to tell me how you got your nickname? Or is that some secret bro-code?” She raised a brow. “Wait, let me guess…you have a little black book tucked in the inside pocket of your tux with a hundred numbers of all the women you’ve hooked up with.”