The Foundation #MFRWhooks

Sara’s emotionally abusive husband dies unexpectedly. She’s struggling to reclaim the intelligent, independent person she was before she married. She vows never to let a man take over her life again. Now she’s part of a special team, training to help other women.
 
Mac is has been responsible for training women in special ops techniques so they are prepared when they are challenged to save other women. When he meets Sara sparks fly between them. He wants her to quit the training and let him take care of her.
 
Sara graduates and now she and her team have to save Sara’s daughter from a serial killer. Can Mac step back and trust her in a dangerous situation? Can Sara and Mac resolve their issues, or will they go in opposite directions?

 

 

“I see, sort of.” Sara tried to organize her thoughts. “Mostly I saw bits of your childhood. Is there anything I can do to prepare?” 

 

“Read the book.” Nadia strode down the path toward the exit. A few seconds later she swung back to face Sara. “Wear something dressy, but comfortable, and bring another outfit, something you might wear to your defense class.” 

 

This time she disappeared around the corner. Sara stared after her, absently patting Gloria. What had she got herself into? She should have asked more questions. Maybe she could practice tonight, but what would she practice? Nadia had said it wasn’t clerical. 

 

Sara turned the card over. 

Nadia N Nassif
Recruiter
The Foundation 

 

A New York address was in the bottom left hand side of the card and a phone number in the bottom right hand corner. She’d check the address in the phone book when she got home. 

 

“Gloria, come.” Sara signaled with her hand and the dog bounded across the grass and skidded to a sit at Sara’s feet. “Good girl, time to head home.”  

 

Sara pulled the leash tight, “heel.” 

 

She walked down the path Nadia had taken. She replayed their conversation in her head. Why had Nadia been following her?

What did they want from her? Should she even go to their interview? Then again, how often did someone offer to pay for a trip to New York? 

 

Sara checked down the street before she crossed. Gloria jerked on the leash and pulled Sara back. “Gloria, what the…?” 

 

A motorcycle roared by, inches in front of Sara. 

 

“Oh, my gosh.” She’d been so busy thinking, that she hadn’t double checked in both directions before she stepped off the curb. If it hadn’t been for Gloria she’d have walked out right in front of the motorcycle. 

 

Breaks squealed as the Harley slowed to a stop and swung around. The rider pulled in front of Sara and stopped. He removed his helmet. 

 

“Are you okay? I didn’t mean to come that close.” 

 

“No, it’s my fault. I was daydreaming and not watching where I was going.” “You’re okay?” 

 

“I’m fine.” Sara stared into a pair of warm deep brown eyes. Warmth started at her toes and crawled through her body. It heated every part of her. She swallowed hard and tried to drag her eyes away from his square face with the five o’clock shadow. 

 

“Mac Langston.” He pulled off the leather glove on his right hand before he extended it. 

 

Sara put out her fingers and immediately found them engulfed in a strong, warm, hand. She could feel a few calluses on the pads of his palm, the hands of a working man. Another jolt shot through her body. Darkness, flashes of light, loud noises—it was a gunfight of some kind. Was this man part of it or observing it? 

 

That made twice today. After blocking the flashes for years her rusty senses appeared to overcome the blocks quickly. They also took a toll on her energy levels. 

 

“Excuse me, are you all right? Ma’am?” 

 

Sara gave her head a shake. “Sorry. Sara, Sara Peters and I really am fine. Thank you, Mr. Langston.” 

 

“Mac, please, and after a shock like that I insist on seeing you get home safely. Hope on and I’ll give you a ride.” 

 

“I don’t think that will work. My dog doesn’t ride motorcycles and neither do I.” Sara pulled on the leash and started to walk away. 

 

“Right, of course,” Mac slapped his forehead. “Then I’ll have to walk you home.” 

 

“No, don’t be silly.” 

 

Mac pulled on his glove, lifted his leg over the bike and proceeded to walk beside her. He pushed the bike. “Do you live very far?” 

 

Sara shook her head. “No, in the next block.” 

 

“Good, this thing could get a little heavy if we had to go a couple of miles. So what were you thinking about?” 

 

“Pardon me?” 

 

“Instead of paying attention to where you were going?” 

 

“Oh, about a job interview I have coming up.” 

 

“A career change?” 

 

“It’s something like that. This is my house. Thank you, Mr. Langston.” Sara turned into the yard. 

 

“Have dinner with me?” 

 

“Excuse me?”