The Broken One By Brittney Sahin PDF Free Download

The Broken One By Brittney Sahin Summary

The Broken One from Wall Street Journal bestselling author, Brittney Sahin, comes a thrilling new standalone romance military novel with no cliffhanger and a happily-ever-after.

Fake marry her brother’s best friend to catch a killer . . . sure, what could go wrong?

Growing up on a ranch with four older brothers, Ella Mae Hawkins is no stranger to rugged and tough men. But her heart has always belonged to the one man she can’t have.

After a secret romantic weekend three years ago with him leaves her broken-hearted, Ella Mae accepts an opportunity to go to Paris and pursue her fashion dreams. It’s supposed to be her chance to get away and start over. Instead, she’s going there with the same stubborn man who claimed he was too dangerous for her—as his fake wife.

Jesse McAdams, a former Army Ranger, has spent half his life away from his small hometown, but one thing has always remained true: one woman owns his heart. The problem? She can never know how he really feels.

But after their hot weekend in New York, it’s been harder than ever to resist the sassy, headstrong Ella Mae. Especially when they can’t share a room without arguing, which often leads to desire.

Joining the team at Falcon Falls Security was supposed to bring the redemption he needs so he can finally be the man Ella Mae deserves. Instead, the fabric of lies he’s woven over time quickly unravels, exposing his secrets, and places a target on the heads of everyone he cares about.

Despite her shock over his past, Ella Mae finds herself falling for her brother’s best friend all over again. But this time, the stakes are higher. This time she’s in danger. And the man who put her there is now her husband.

Can Jesse protect her and piece Ella’s heart back together . . . or will he shatter it for good?

About the Author

Brittney Sahin is a Wall Street Journal and Amazon Top 5 bestselling author of romantic suspense novels.

She began writing at an early age with the dream to be a published author before the age of 18. Although academic pursuits (and, later, a teaching career) interrupted her aspirations, she never stopped writing–never stopped imagining.

It wasn’t until her students encouraged her to follow her dreams that Brittney said goodbye to Upstate New York in order to start a new adventure in the place she was raised: Charlotte, North Carolina. Here, she decided to take her students’ advice and begin to write again.

In 2015, she published her first novel, Silenced Memories (The Safe Bet). When she is not working on upcoming novels, she spends time with her family. She is a proud mother of two boys, and a lover of suspense novels, coffee, and the outdoors.

The Broken One By Brittney Sahin Introduction

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

WALKINS GLEN, ALABAMA – PRESENT DAY

Jesse dropped to one knee, pivoted, and drew his Glock 19 in one smooth motion, locking the intruder in his sights. But he quickly let go of a heavy breath at the realization he knew the man now standing in his workshop.

Jesse bowed his head and slowly lowered the gun, preferring if it were someone actually trying to get the drop on him instead.

“Good to see you haven’t lost your touch.”

After pushing himself up from the dirty, sawdust-covered concrete floor, he secured the 9mm in the holster hidden beneath his tee at his back. “Turn around and leave. I don’t want to see whatever’s in that envelope you’re holding,” Jesse brusquely said. “Tell Suzette and the kids hello and wish them a happy New Year for me.”

Adjusting the bandana back in place over his mouth, Jesse turned to the slab of reclaimed pine he’d been sanding. A three-foot-wide and one-foot-tall drum-shaped coffee table. Mid-century style. That’d been his client’s request months ago, and he’d been too busy with his new gig to finish the job on time.

“You think I came all the way down here to let you give me the brush-off?” Thatcher shut off the radio, a signal he had no intention of leaving, not that Jesse truly believed his former boss would listen to him, anyway. “Nice work.” Thatcher casually strolled to the other side of the workbench where the slab of wood was anchored. Jesse had been sanding the surface using the old-school method. It was arduous and unnecessary. But it helped him work through some of the tension that tended to spiral up his arms and work into his chest. “You have a Black and Decker right here, and you’re using a piece of sandpaper?”

Jesse lowered the bandana from his mouth, his eyes cutting to the envelope in Thatcher’s hand.

Thatcher smoothed his free palm along the rough, unfinished part of the tabletop. The faint hint of cigar smoke, expensive and definitely Cuban, clung to his lightweight black Polo jacket.

It was a brisk forty-five degrees outside that morning, and despite the chill, Jesse had left the double doors to his workshop open for fresh air. He only had on a black tee and jeans, but the shirt was already sticking to his frame from working up a sweat as he’d sanded his way through his list of problems. One by one.

Not that sanding fixed the problems.

But it prevented him from suffocating from the enormity of them.

One particular problem? Ella Mae Hawkins and her recent desire to speed date her way through Birmingham.

The number of potential suitors he’d wanted to break in half back in October, when she’d gone on date after date, had been one too many. He’d refrained. Some-damn-how.

Ella had put a pause on dating when one of their best friends, Savanna, had found herself in trouble back then, but he couldn’t help but wonder when she’d start up again.

He may have hacked into her account like a psychopath and done background checks on every guy she’d “matched” with during her bout of insanity this past fall. Her last “date” happened to be the same night Savanna’s life got flipped upside down. The same night he had to kill a man inside Savanna’s house to keep her safe.

And then, during that very same week, he’d had no choice but to take more lives. It’d been in self-defense and to protect Savanna, but Ella had still given him an earful about it.

Yeah, that whole situation was another reason he’d sanded the hell out of the slab of wood like the pine had done him wrong.

“How long are you going to be silent and act like I’m not here? You’re burning a hole through that piece of wood like you’ve got Superman’s heat vision.”

“Better the wood than you, then, right?” Jesse glanced out the open double doors to check the driveway for a black Suburban or the like, complete with a brooding guard wearing dark sunglasses standing beside the vehicle.

“I heard you’re working again. Not the same kind of work, but your kill count has gone up since I saw you last.” Thatcher’s comment had Jesse facing him.

Did his heartbeat quicken at the fact Thatcher knew this information? Not really.

And was he surprised that Thatcher knew Jesse had recently joined a security firm? Nope.

Or was he shocked by the fact Thatcher even knew the firm existed since there was zero online footprint? Hardly.

This was Thatcher. Thatcher knew everything. It was his job to know everything.

“I thought you didn’t want to operate anymore.” Thatcher set down the envelope and knuckled the wood with both hands. He pushed down a little as though checking the strength of the wood under the pressure of his fists. “I heard what happened to Marcus’s widow, Savanna Vasquez. She’s why you got back in, right? She’s why you joined that motley crew.”

“Motley?” A hearty laugh fell from Jesse’s lips at the image he’d painted. Motley wasn’t exactly a term used to define a team of Army veterans, all highly skilled operators that were also excellent intelligence gatherers.

“One of your bosses is a rogue CIA operator.” He paused. “Carter Dominick’s trouble. Not the kind of trouble you want to deal with,” he went on.

Yes, Carter had gone rogue from the Agency, but he’d had good reason from what Jesse had learned. Like his wife being butchered, and he’d wanted to find the real killers.

“And as for your other boss . . . Gray Chandler’s the polar opposite of Carter. Then there’s the fact that his sister is CIA, and their dad is the Secretary of Defense.” Another pause. Longer this time. “I’d love to know how Carter and Gray partnered, but they shouldn’t be your team leaders. That job should be mine.”

“I was never part of a team. I was a one-man show. You gave me orders. I executed them. Alone.” Usually, at least. “What I’ll be doing with them is the kind of thing I can be proud of—unlike what I did for you.” A gnawing sensation gathered in his stomach like acid roiling around as memories of working for Thatcher surged to mind.

He’d given almost five years to Thatcher. Five years too many. And for what? More buried secrets than he cared to think about, secrets he could never unearth. God, every time he looked Ella in the eyes, he felt like he deserved a bullet to the back of the head. Her pure heart would turn to dust if she knew all the things he’d done.

“So, your family knows you’re part of this—what’s it called—Falcon Falls Security? Are your parents aware of the bodies you’ve piled up since you started working with this ‘not-so’ motley crew?”

And now Thatcher was just fucking with him.

Thatcher lifted his fists from the wood and brushed them along the front of his jacket, leaving a bit of dust residue there.

“You really miss being in the Army? Working with a team? I didn’t see that coming. But fine. No more solo runs if you’re back with me. You can partner up. Fuck, you can have a ménage or a quadruple or a whatever. But I want you back.”

“No,” Jesse answered with zero hesitation.

“This,” Thatcher said while pointing to the tools hanging on the wall off to his left, “was only supposed to be a cover story. When I heard you’d turned furniture making into a full-time gig after leaving me, I gave you a year until you’d come back. You lasted longer, I’ll give you that. But not by much.”

Jesse looked to the wall of tools hanging in perfect order the way his father had taught him. God forbid he’d ever misplaced a tool or put one back in the wrong place growing up.

The hammers were lined up in a row. The screwdrivers all sorted and placed in order by size. And so on.

There was balance and symmetry. Harmony there, when on the inside he felt anything but.

Jesse swiped the pad of his thumb along the edge of the pine slab, his eyes slowly working over the wood, wondering what it’d been used for before it found its way to his workshop. A grandaddy’s rocking chair? A baby’s bookshelf? A coffee table to prop your feet up on after a long day at work?

He didn’t always know the “past life” of the wood he made into furniture, but he refused to use anything other than recycled material. He wanted to “save” the wood from being tossed. To reshape it. Carve it. Give something trashed or forgotten a new life. A second chance to be useful or beautiful again.

“I like doing this, by the way.” But I need more. I also need to be useful. In that regard, Thatcher was right. When his friend Savanna had been attacked in her home right in front of him in October, it reminded him he did have skills that could be, well, repurposed for a greater good. Maybe one day, he’d be able to look Ella in the eyes again without feeling like he deserved that bullet.

“We didn’t spend a fortune training you, far more than the Army ever did, by the way, just for you to go work with Carter and Gray.” Thatcher rounded the workbench and reached into his pocket, producing a business card. “If you’re back, you’re back with us. Your assignment is in there.” He tilted his head toward the 8×11 envelope and set the card on top of it.

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Product details:

Edition	International Edition
ISBN	979-8799727796
Posted on	January 20, 2022
Format	pdf
Page Count	466 pages
Author	Brittney Sahin