Chosen
Chosen
Amazon Top 10 Bestseller
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ 2397 5-Star reviews
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SYNOPSIS
SYNOPSIS
Everything Emma Thompson owns fits in a suitcase she moves from one roach-infested motel to another. She and Jake, her five-year-old son who can see the future, are running from the men intent on taking him. Emma will do anything to protect him even when it means accepting the help of a stranger named Will. Jake insists she needs Will, but Emma’s never needed help before. And even though she’s learned to trust her son, it doesn’t mean she trusts Will.
Mercenary Will Davenport lives in the moment. Hauling Emma to South Dakota should have been an easy job, but his employer neglected to tell him about Emma’s freaky son and the gunmen hot on her trail. Instinct tells him this job is trouble, but nothing can prepare him for Jake’s proclamation that Will is The Chosen One, who must protect Emma from the men hunting her power. A power she doesn't know she has.
Will protects Emma and Jake on a cross-country chase from the men pursuing them, while struggling with memories from his past, his apprehension of Jake, and his growing attraction to Emma. Will’s overwhelming urge to protect Emma surprises him, especially since it has nothing to do with his paycheck and possibly everything to do with the tattoo Jake branded on his arm. Rich and powerful men are desperate to capture Emma, and Will must discover why before it's too late.
A mother will do anything to protect her son.
The first book in the Chosen series.
Chapter One Look Inside
Chapter One Look Inside
Emma bolted out the door of the run-down diner, pulling her five-year-old son behind her. She broke into a cold sweat that had nothing to do with the humid July heat.
Her boss, a balding man in a white uniform followed behind. He stood in the open doorframe, gnawing on a toothpick. “Where do you think you’re goin’, Missy? Your shift ain’t done yet!” He waved a greasy spatula toward her.
She ignored him and opened the back door of her beat-up Honda Accord, strapping Jake into the back seat.
“They’re coming, Mommy,” Jake’s quivering voice whispered in her ear.
His deep blue eyes filled with tears, and she gently kissed his cheek.
“We’ll be okay.” She tried to convince herself as much as she tried to convince him.
“I’m tellin’ ya, don’t think you can come back like nothin’ happened,” the man shouted as she opened her door.
She gave him a quick look and climbed in. It didn’t matter. She wouldn’t be back.
The Bad Men, as Jake called them, had found them more quickly. They used to be able to live in a place for months, but this time it had only taken them three weeks. She tried to take comfort in the daylight, even if it was fading. The Bad Men usually came at night, but she sensed their desperation was making them bolder.
She drove home as fast as possible without running the risk of getting pulled over by the police. She knew from experience they couldn’t be trusted.
Home was an aged, pay-by-the-week, roach-infested motel. Their possessions were few and fit into a couple of boxes. She always took her sheets with them, although they might not make the cut this time. She turned into the motel parking lot and drove past the dated front office with its blinking neon vacancy sign. She glanced toward the desk clerk, a teenager who spent more time reading a book than paying attention to the comings and goings of the motel.
Their unit sat at the end, which made it easy to observe the parking lot yet also made them easily trapped. But the benefits outweighed the risks.
She backed into the space in front of their unit, torn between bringing Jake in and leaving him in the car for a quicker getaway. The room key was already in her hand as she unbuckled him. She pulled him past the rotted wood door. If someone tried to force their way in, the door wouldn’t withstand much battering.
The chill of the air conditioner blasted her as they entered the room. As she waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, she pushed away the nauseating smell of mold and fear and tried to focus on what to grab. Jake cowered in the corner, eyes wide in terror. His fear spooked her. She rarely saw him this frightened. It made her hurry, tossing clothes into the battered suitcase she threw on the bed.
“They’re here,” Jake whispered in the monotone he used when he saw things only he could see.
Emma grabbed their few toiletries off the stained Formica counter, tossed them in the suitcase, and zipped it closed. Lifting the pee-stained mattress, she pulled out the gun she’d stuffed underneath and made sure it was loaded. “Let’s go.”
Emma pushed her weariness aside. She was tired of running, tired of dragging Jake all over the country. But she willed away the tears that threatened to spill. There was no time for self-pity; she had to protect her son. Jake stood in the corner, gripping his stuffed dog to his chest. Emma lowered herself close to the floor and scrambled to the window to peer through the grimy vinyl blinds. A black SUV was parked at the entrance to the motel parking lot, next to the office about a hundred feet away, facing their direction.
“Shit.”
Emma turned toward Jake, who was frozen in his nightmare. “Jake!”
She knew there was no use trying to reach him. He would be like this, near-catatonic, until the danger passed. She hoisted Jake onto her hip, grabbed the suitcase with her left hand, and slid the door open with the gun in her right. Crouching as much as she could, she opened the back door to the car. His eyes glazed over as she set him in the center seat and tossed the small suitcase on the floor in front of him. As she buckled Jake in, she looked up and saw a man walk out the door of the unit next to hers.
“Hey, can you tell me where the ice machine is?” He carried an ice bucket in one arm and his room key in the other hand. She cast him a brief glance. He looked like he was in his early thirties, wearing jeans and a light-blue button-down shirt with long sleeves rolled up beneath his elbows. His wavy dark hair could have used a trim. He didn’t fit the Bad Men’s usual look of jeans and black shirts, so she dismissed him as a threat.
“Uh, sorry . . . I can’t help you . . .” She stood and shut the back door, looking over her shoulder at the SUV as she opened the driver door. She hid the gun behind her back as she climbed into the car, then tucked it into the side pocket on the door as she climbed into the car, barely giving him a second glance.
The man leaned into the open window on the passenger side with an air of nonchalance. “You seem to be in a hurry.” He turned to the black Navigator behind him. “Friends of yours?”
He raised his eyebrows a fraction of an inch. She noticed the muscles of his forearm tense.
“No.” She reached for the gearshift, but he opened the door and climbed into the passenger seat. “What the . . . ?”
“We need him,” she heard Jake say from the back seat.
Emma jerked her head around to check on Jake. He seemed calmer now and stared at the man sitting next to her, a strange expression on his face. The man looked just as surprised as Emma.
“What are you saying?” Emma demanded. “We don’t have time for this!”
The Navigator started moving toward them.
“Go!” the man next to her ordered.
She had two choices: Try to kick him out and give the SUV time to block her in, or drive. She slammed her foot on the gas pedal. Loose gravel shot out behind the car and hit the building.
“You’re going to have to get around them,” the man said as he fastened his seat belt and braced his left hand on the dashboard. “It’s the only way out.”
She knew this already and cast him a quick glance of surprise. She considered protesting but didn’t want to waste the time. She hurtled down the narrow parking lot toward the SUV. With only twenty feet between the two cars, the SUV swerved toward them.
She swung left, avoiding the SUV and narrowly missing a parked car. She heard tires squealing behind them as her car barreled toward the parking lot entrance.
“Turn right,” he ordered.
Emma turned, barely slowing at the corner. She raced down the four-lane divided highway heading out of town, knowing the SUV would soon be behind her. A quick glance in the rearview mirror confirmed it.
“I don’t suppose this piece of crap goes very fast?”
She glared at him as she raced to get through a yellow light. The SUV pushed through the red light. Car horns blared and tires shrieked behind her.
“We can’t outrun them, so we’ll have to outwit them and we’d better do it soon. They’re catching up,” the man said.
Emma saw the SUV in the side mirror, approaching from behind. A car in the left lane separated her and her pursuer, but the SUV rode its tail and the car moved to the right lane.
“Don’t let them get on the side of us,” he grunted as he turned around to see their progress.
The highway ahead was clear for the next two hundred feet, so Emma straddled the center broken white line. The SUV was soon behind them and gave their bumper a tap, jerking the car forward.
“That was just a warning. Next time won’t be so gentle.” He braced himself as he looked back.
“No shit.”
His eyebrows raised. “Done this before?”
She didn’t answer, but instead weaved around the cars in front of her. An intersection with a stoplight appeared ahead. Blessed with a green light, Emma stayed in the right lane, keeping the SUV behind her and trapped by cars in the left lane. As she entered the intersection, she floored the gas pedal and made a hard left, cutting in front of the car in the lane next to her. The other car skidded to a halt, barely missing the Honda’s back bumper. Cars coming from the opposite direction hadn’t entered the intersection, avoiding a collision.
“Nice move.”
“Thanks,” she mumbled, looking in her rearview mirror. The SUV was trapped by the cars in the left lane, but swerved and hit several as it fought to follow her. She knew she didn’t have much time before it caught up.
She sped down the four-lane highway, whizzing past battered fast-food restaurants and strip malls. This was the older part of town, the seedy section. The area she was used to.
The windows were open and a few strands of hair had worked loose from her ponytail, whipping her face. She glanced at the man next to her while he looked out the back window.
“I don’t see them.” He turned to study her.
“They’ll be back.” Of this, she was sure.
“Turn left up here.”
She knew this road and the one up ahead. She’d staked it out weeks ago. She went straight.
“I told you to turn left,” he growled as she sped past the turn.
She didn’t respond but kept driving, the SUV approaching from behind.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Saving our asses.” She made a hard right onto a two-lane country road.
“More like getting us killed!” he shouted, the veins on his neck bulging. “There’s hardly anyone on this road. We’re sitting ducks. Turn around.”
She ignored him and drove, wind rushing through the windows. Adrenaline surged in a familiar swell as they raced down the unpopulated road. Empty fields enveloped the road on both sides, with an occasional tree thrown in. They were alone in the middle of nowhere with the exception of the SUV. She saw it in the rearview mirror, gaining on her. She slowed down.
“What are you doing?” he yelled.
“Letting them catch up.”
He reached over and grabbed the steering wheel in a firm grip. “Are you crazy?”
“Are you? Get your hands off the wheel!” She threw a sharp elbow to his left arm, and he withdrew his hands with a grunt.
As she turned to look over her shoulder, she saw indecision on his face. She felt bad he was in the middle of this, but she didn’t ask him to jump in the car and play Johnny Hero.
“Look, I have a plan. Trust me. We’re almost there.” She suddenly jammed her foot on the gas pedal and his head jerked back. “Brace yourself.”
He slammed his hand onto the dash.
“Hold on, baby,” she yelled over her shoulder.
The SUV reached the driver’s side of the Honda, driving neck and neck on the two-lane road. The windows were blacked out, hiding the occupants. Thankfully, no one came from the other direction, but a sharp tree-lined curve lay ahead.
“I hope you know what you’re doing . . .”
The SUV nudged the Honda toward the ditch on the side of the road. Emma held the steering wheel firm and nudged them back, easing off the gas as she recovered.
“We’re almost there . . .” She floored the gas pedal again. The SUV pulled to the front of the car as the curve approached.
“You’re going to kill us!”
With the curve only fifty feet away, the SUV drove into her lane, trying to force her off the road.
She reached down and jerked the emergency brake. The car whipped into a spin. The SUV hit the brakes and skidded forward, tires squealing. She fought for control of the steering wheel as the Honda spun off the side of the road, its own tires screeching in protest, but came to rest facing the opposite direction. The smell of burnt rubber hung heavy in the air. Emma hit the gas and plunged down the road. The sound of crunching metal and cracking wood echoed behind them. She looked in the mirror and saw the SUV had crashed into the trees lining the curve.
The man next to her let out a sigh of relief. “Where did you learn to drive?”
“On a race track.”
“Really?”
She turned to face him and smiled. “No.”