Fearless Hero

“Yes, my team. I’m part of a special segment of the Savage Soldiers of Savage, Colorado who take on special assignments providing private security for high level assets.”

I blinked. It looked like we both had our secrets.

“Thank you for getting us out of there safely. I’ve got my youngest daughter with me and if anything had happened to her…” Dad took a deep breath. “Listen, just know that if you are ever back on U.S. soil, you’ll have a job. No doubt about it. Just look me up. We happen to be from Savage.”

Brady nodded. “I know. And thank you, Speaker Harper. That’s very kind of you. But I’m just doing my job, sir.”

He made eye contact with me once more before he turned around. Back to business.

Whatever Brady and I had shared was over now.

CHAPTER 5

Autumn

6 months later

My home had sported a pretty impressive library for as long as I could remember. It’s beechwood floors and tables were in perfect condition, and the bookshelves were lined with virtually everything—from literary classics, to cozy reads, instruction manuals, study-guides, and encyclopedias. Multiple computers—laptops and desk-tops—had been purchased and placed for visitors who wanted to do research.

I used to think it was a little too much as a child, fearing my friends would think I was from a family of nerds. Now, however, I couldn’t be more grateful to have such a space readily at my disposal. Although there was a nice library in the neighborhood, I’d learned the hard way that being the daughter of a potential vice-presidential candidate made it difficult to maintain privacy. I supposed it would have been different if I was still a child. As an adult though, I was fair game for the press. This had already been the case somewhat when my father was just Speaker of the House, but it was nothing compared to what we experienced now. I could hardly imagine what it must have been like for the families of actual presidential candidates. It gave me a headache just thinking about it, and I certainly didn’t need any more of a headache than I already had, considering I was in the midst of studying for my BAR exam.

Throughout school, I’d always made fairly good grades. Nevertheless, I’d always had terrible test-anxiety, which had unfortunately followed me right into adulthood. Final exams had been a nightmare and prepping for things like the ACT and SAT had been nothing short of torture. There was just something about standardized tests that made me panic and subsequently made my mind go blank. No matter how well I knew the material, being officially tested on it was always anxiety-provoking.

It had been my intention to dedicate several hours before lunch to studying. However, that hadn’t been working out well. My mind kept wandering, thinking over my father’s schedule for the next few weeks. Not only was I his main emotional support system, but I had become his unofficial secretary as well. Granted, it was by choice—I worried about him so much that I became obsessed with keeping track of his whereabouts at all times. Things just hadn’t been the same since our time in Turkey; that explosion had shaken both of us to the core. We didn’t want to be paranoid, but at the same time, we knew it was impossible to tell where an enemy may be lurking at any given point.

Our peace of mind had been shattered.

With a sigh, I leaned back in my chair and stared idly at the opened book before me. The words blurred together and a deep boredom threatened to knock me off my studying schedule for the rest of the day. One too many more days like this and I could kiss my career ambitions goodbye. Frustrated, I drummed my fingers on the table, vaguely aware of my father’s voice droning from somewhere down the hall. At first, I figured he was taking a phone call, but then I noticed an additional voice.

I listened, wondering if I should see who he was talking to. But then I reminded myself that if it was any of my business, he would have called me to join them by now. He knew that I was studying and therefore was not to be bothered unless it was something important. So clearly, whoever he was holding an impromptu meeting with wasn’t important enough to involve me.

Sighing again, I sat back up in my chair.

Focus, Autumn, focus.

Resigning to the fact that my studying wasn’t going to do itself, I reached for the hair-band on the table and tied my hair into a sloppy bun. I then stood up to stretch, getting my blood flowing and hoping it would improve my concentration. I contemplated getting a snack to appease my stomach that had been growling for the past fifteen minutes, but then I figured if I studied for at least a half-hour straight, I could reward myself with a snack-break before resuming.

Reaching for my cellphone, I set the timer for exactly thirty minutes.

“Okay, Autumn. Buckle down,” I said out loud, resettling into my seat. I picked up my book and started reading again, determined to force the material to stay in my head this time.

Yet, my concentration was broken once again when the voices of my father and his visitor drew nearer. I closed my eyes in frustration, wondering why on earth they were so loud. Their laughter rang through the corridors, as did their heavy footsteps. I glanced to the door of the library, wondering if they were coming to see me. From the sound of their jovial banter though, whatever they were talking about didn’t seem serious at all. So if they were coming to bother me, they were doing it for no reason, which was uncharacteristic of my father since he knew I desperately needed to study.

My father appeared first, poking his head through the doorway. “Autumn, sweetheart, I hope you aren’t too busy.”

“Just studying,” I said, stating the obvious. “Why? What’s going on?”

“There’s someone I’d like to introduce you to. Or re-introduce you to, rather.”

Having captured my full attention, I watched as he waved his hand, beckoning someone forward.

I couldn’t believe my eyes.

“Honey, this is Brady Logan, the soldier who helped lead us to safety in Turkey after that bomb went off. You remember him, don’t you?”

My father’s words continued after this, but I could no longer hear him. I was too stunned that Brady, the handsome stranger from Turkey who’d had a one-night-stand with me and then potentially saved my life, was standing in my home.

A deep flush rose over my face and I prayed my father and Brady didn’t notice it—just like I hoped the thoughts running through my mind weren’t being hinted at on my face as I recalled the feel of Brady’s smooth and muscular body beneath and on top of mine…