Page 1 of Fearless
Chapter one
Harper
As a child, the last thing I ever wanted to do was to follow in my dad’s footsteps and work for the Federal Bureau of Investigation. I yearned for a life filled with love, kids, and the white picket fence; not chasing after criminals and getting shot at. My goal was to be a dancer and eventually own a studio where I could teach kids and help them learn the art of discipline, poise, and gracefulness while doing something they enjoyed. So, how did I end up as a special agent doing undercover work?
I let my hormones guide my actions instead of my brain because I wanted to gain the attention of a man—a man who was nearly twice my age when my feelings changed from adoration to infatuation and eventually morphed into love. Roger Cavenaugh was my father’s protégé, and they’re still the best of friends. Even if Roger were ever to stop viewing me as the little girl who once sat on his lap and hung onto his every word, I would always be “off-limits” to him because of his relationship with my father. I wish I had thought about that before I made a decision that backfired on me in the worst way.
One would think that being the daughter of FBI Deputy Director Robert Finnegan would grant me special privileges and an easy life, but that was as far from the truth as one could get. My father told me that if I wanted to pursue my dreams and go to college, I had to earn it and work hard every step of the way. My parents paid for my dance lessons while I was growing up, but I had to pay my college tuition without their help.
My father wanted me to appreciate what I had instead of having everything handed to me on a silver platter. That’s how I ended up participating in beauty pageants during my high school and college years. Scholarships and cash prizes were a great way to pay for college without taking away time from my studies.
It was at my first collegiate-level pageant that I realized my feelings for a 35-year-old Roger were more than what would be deemed appropriate for a girl who had just turned 18. Whenever my father couldn’t be present to support me—which was more often than not—Roger occupied the seat in the front row next to my mother, always cheering me on.
When I had my first and unexpected win, I expected him to congratulate me with one of his bear hugs. Instead, he made a beeline toward Savannah Jones—the runner-up. She had come in second place and was a woman that I had always admired, but it was the first time I had been jealous of Savannah simply because she had garnered Roger’s undivided attention. I watched as he handed her a business card before giving her a wide grin and a wave.
When Roger finally graced me with his presence, I gestured toward the beautiful blonde. I asked him in a teasing toneto hide my green-eyed monster who had reared its ugly head, “What was that all about? Did you land yourself a hot date?”
He snorted. “Hardly. Savannah may be smart and beautiful, but she’s much too young for me. No, your father has me constantly keeping an eye out for potential recruits. Savannah’s academic aptitude, combined with her mastery of weapons, makes her a prime candidate for the special team we’ve established.”
My heart sagged, partially in relief that he wasn’t interested in Savannah, but also with a bit of despair. If Savannah was too young for him at 22, then I didn’t stand a chance. “Who will be heading up this new team? My dad?”
“I believe your father intends for me to do it. Since I’m not tied down by a family, I’m free to travel and stay away for long periods of time. I’d tell you more, but I’m not at liberty to talk about it,” he said. He hugged me and added, “Congratulations on your win, Harper. Your dancing was perfection, as always. Juilliard will be fortunate to have you.”
I embraced him longer than I should have, but if it made him uncomfortable, he didn’t let on. “Savannah should have won. My dancing paled in comparison to her knife-throwing. If she hadn’t stuttered over her answer on climate change, I’d be the runner-up, not her.”
Roger chuckled. “Take the win and bask in the moment, Harper. You’re talented and beautiful. You’ve worked hard to get where you’re at. You deserve to win as much as anyone else. If you were meant to come in second, then that’s what would have happened.” The skin around his eyes crinkled. “Youareyour father’s daughter, Harper. You’re always questioning everything, scrutinizing every detail, and never taking anything atface value. You’d make a great agent if you weren’t born to dance.” He gave me one more hug and then walked away without looking back.
I knew at that moment that if I ever wanted him to look at me with the same admiration he had toward Savannah, then some changes had to be made. Instead of twirling and spinning around on my toes, I spent the next four years becoming a fearless warrior. I focused my energy on learning Krav Maga and turning my body into a lean, mean fighting machine.
I didn’t see Roger again until the day of my college graduation, which was supposed to be a day of celebration. My mom and dad were both there, prouder than punch with my newly-framed degree in Global Studies and Intelligence as well as my recent acceptance into the FBI. However, when Roger strolled up to us, he was wearing a forced smile tinged with disappointment.
“Harper, you always excel at whatever you put your mind to, and graduating with honors is an amazing feat. When your dad told me that you decided not to attend Juilliard, I was a bit surprised. It was always your dream to dance,” he said.
I couldn’t very well let Roger know that he was my motivation for the change, so I told him a partial truth: “Dancing was my dream, but not my only dream, Roger. When I heard about the team you and my father put together, I wanted to be a part of something more; part of that.”
Roger shook his head. “I’m sorry, Harper. That’s not going to be possible, at least not right now. The team is a tight-knit, cohesive unit that’s been working together for three years. Adding in a new element—especially one as high-profile as you are—would throw everything out of balance. I hope you didn’tjoin the FBI solely for that purpose.”
I glanced at my dad. As the FBI’s Deputy Director, he could have forced Roger’s hand and given me what I wanted. But he didn’t. Instead, he turned his head away and refused to meet my gaze. I was about to ask to speak to Roger privately and tell him the truth behind my actions when a gorgeous woman in her late thirties sidled up next to him.
Roger placed his arm around her trim waist and pulled her close to his side. “This is Bethany Bellefonte. She works as an analyst at headquarters.” As he made introductions, he smiled at the tall, statuesque woman with soft features and delicate bone structure. Her strawberry-blonde hair shimmered in the sun, and her bright green eyes sparkled with joy. When she rested her head on his shoulder, wearing a wide grin, I knew I had to excuse myself before my heart thoroughly shattered into a million pieces in front of everyone.
Despite my ability to plaster on a fake smile, I didn’t think I could do it while watching everything I had spent the past four years working toward imploding. “It was great seeing you again, Roger, and nice meeting you, Bethany. I have other guests to greet. Thank you for coming.”
I took one last look over my shoulder as I walked away, noting the pinkish hue on Roger’s cheeks as my mom whispered something into his ear—probably making a joke about me having a crush on him. When Roger’s eyes locked with mine and he saw my crestfallen face, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that my mother’s words were no laughing matter.
After that day, I avoided Roger as much as I could, but my path occasionally crossed with his. Roger would come forChristmas dinner or for an event being held at my family’s estate, often with Bethany by his side. Unable to stand watching the happy couple, I stopped coming home altogether. It was easier that way. It’s been three years since I’ve seen Roger or talked to him, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t kept in the loop regarding his life.
It was a little over a year ago that my dad casually informed me that Roger had retired from the FBI and had gone to work for Shining Knight Protective Services. When my father mentioned that he suspected Roger’s breakup with Bethany was a motivating factor for the transition, I didn’t know what to say. So, I said nothing, having given up hope long ago that Roger was ever meant to be mine.
Waiting patiently is not my strong suit, especially when there’s work to be done. Asking for help is even more difficult for me. Yet here I sit in a comfy chair doing just that, surrounded by family photos of Ethan Knight, his wife, Amelia, and their son, Xander. A pang of longing and the suppressed dream of having a family of my own consume my thoughts until a door bangs open and snaps me from daydreaming.
“Harper, this is an unexpected visit,” Ethan says, greeting me. As soon as I stand up, he envelops me in a warm hug and graces me with a congenial smile. I’ve encountered the Shining Knight team on several occasions, but other than Roger or Savannah, I don’t know many of them well. I’ve tried to keep my distance from them as much as I had from Roger, knowing I wouldnever truly be a part of their extended family. Regardless of my actions, it doesn’t stop them from treating me as one of their own.
The handsome but stern-faced man behind Ethan extends his hand. “I’m Ben Cooper. You’ve already met my sister and Ethan’s wife, Amelia.”
I grip his hand firmly. “It’s nice to meet you. I wish I were here under better circumstances.”
Ben gestures for me to sit. “Amelia says you have urgent news.”
