Finding Him (Him Series Book 2)

1-How we met

I was sixteen when I first met Hunter Donovan.

All day I'd been on edgy. Jumping at every sound and messing up enough orders that my manager was glaring at me as if I was single-handedly responsible everything for destroying profits.

"Can I get you more coffee, sir?"

The man looked wary. "I like it in a cup. Think you can manage not to miss this time?"

"Yes, sir."

My friend Sara stepped in front of me with a look of sympathy. "I'll cover for you. Get the outta here." She jerked her thumb towards the door.

I started to protest. God knows I needed the money, but Sara held up her hand. "You break another plate and Dennis is gonna fire you. Go home and take care of your family."

Feeling the weight of Dennis' glare, I thanked her before walking back to the trailer. I refused to call it home. It hadn't been home since Mom had been killed.

A cold sweat slicked my skin. I could not shake the feeling of impending doom, which sounded dramatic, but I had no clue how else to describe it. The only thing I could do was wait for disaster to strike, and pray I was strong enough to pick up the pieces afterward.

It happened at midnight.

Jimmy, the owner of the Outcast Bar, called to tell me I needed to pick up Darryl, and I started walking the mile-long hike. It wasn't the first time I'd made this trip, and it wouldn't be the last. Darryl drove our only means of transportation so Kyle and I had to either walk or rely on friends to get us to work and school.

The full moon glowed orange like a giant pumpkin among the stars. It was a warm, sultry May night. If I hadn't been going to get Darryl, I'd have enjoyed the walk, but I couldn't shake the feeling that tonight was going to be bad.

Darryl was a mean drunk, and I was scared of him, but I was more afraid of Kyle being thrown into foster care. If I wasn't terrified of losing my brother, I'd let daddy-dearest go to jail, but social services had been watching us and that meant I had to make sure Darryl got home safely.

Something was wrong.

I saw the blue and red flashing lights in the parking lot, and I stumbled. My stomach felt hollow, and for a moment I just wanted to turn and run. Taking a deep breath, I walked faster.

Darryl was shouting and an officer had him pinned to the ground.

"'Bout time you got here, girl!" Darryl bellowed, his face red with rage.

I recognized the officer standing over him, and I forced a smile. "Officer Jenkins, can I just take him home, please?"

Jenkins smiled sympathetically but turned his attention to another man that walked up with Jimmy. Frowning, I followed his gaze and my eyes landed on the most magnificent man I'd ever seen in my life. My breath caught.

He looked to be in his late twenties and was wearing a dress shirt, and slacks and had a badge pinned to the belt at his narrow waist. I was five-seven, and he towered over me by several inches. He had sandy brown hair, a tanned complexion, and muscles I knew hadn't come from pumping iron in a gym.

As if he knew I was staring, he turned and my gaze collided with his soulful, clear blue eyes.

"Is he under arrest?" I directed the question at Officer Jenkins, but he answered.

"Not at this time. We're just trying to calm him down."

The man's voice was a deep rumble that created a buzz in my belly.