Rescuing Sophia (CHARLIE Team: Guardian Hostage Rescue Specialists #5)

1. Blake

ONE

Blake

The familiar scent of gun oil and sweat hits me as I stride into Guardian HRS headquarters. My boots echo on the polished floor, matching the pounding of my heart. Another day, another mission. I live for this.

I spot Gabe and Walt near the coffee machine, heads bent close in conversation. Gabe’s shoulders shake with silent laughter at something Walt said—probably another terrible joke.

“Morning, ladies. Gossiping already?” I stroll in with a smirk.

“Well, if it isn’t the pretty boy of Charlie team.” Gabe’s head snaps up, grinning. He clasps my hand in a firm shake that turns into a quick, one-armed thump against my back. “Thought you might be too busy admiring yourself in the mirror to grace us with your presence.”

“Unlike some people, I don’t need hours to make this look good.” I shove him playfully, gesturing to my face as Walt rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, we get it. You’re God’s gift to women.” Walt hands me a steaming cup of coffee. “Drink up, Casanova. We’ve got a big day ahead.”

The bitter liquid burns down my throat, grounding me. I savor the moment, this easy camaraderie forged through blood and bullets. These men are more than teammates; they’re brothers.

Hank and Rigel join us. Rigel, a seasoned Navy SEAL new to our team, is eager to prove himself and earn his place among us.

“Any idea what this meeting’s about?” Rigel’s gaze darts between us.

“Probably another milk run. Rescuing kittens from trees, that sort of thing.” I shrug, feigning nonchalance despite my burning curiosity.

“Don’t let Blake fool you. He’s as eager as a virgin on prom night to find out what’s going on.” Hank claps Rigel on the shoulder, snorting.

Our laughter ceases as Ethan, our team leader, rounds the corner. His face displays its usual stoic mask, but a glint in his eye sends a shiver of excitement down my spine.

“Alright, children,” Ethan’s voice carries the weight of command, “playtime’s over. CJ wants us in the briefing room. Now.”

We fall in line behind Ethan, our steps in perfect sync. The playful atmosphere evaporates, replaced by focused intensity. This is what we’re made for. This is who we are.

The briefing room buzzes with activity when we enter. CJ stands at the head of the table, his presence commanding even in stillness. Sam and Mitzy flank him, their faces unreadable, but it’s the fourth person who catches my attention: Forest Summers, the big boss himself.

This must be serious.

My gaze sweeps the room, cataloging details out of habit: tension in CJ’s shoulders, a slight furrow between Mitzy’s brows as she taps her tablet, and Sam’s fingers drumming an impatient rhythm on the table.

We take our seats, the scrapes of chairs piercing the loaded silence. I lean back initially, projecting casual indifference even as every nerve in my body stands at attention. The presence of these heavy hitters tells me this is far from our usual op. Sensing the gravity of the situation, I shift forward, elbows on the table, giving CJ my full attention.

“Gentlemen, let’s recap what we know about Sentinel.” CJ’s voice cuts through the quiet like a knife. His gaze sweeps over us, a reminder of our mission’s gravity.

“As you’re all aware, Sentinel is more than just a simple organization,” Forest says, his massive frame dominating the space. “It’s a network that’s been giving us hell for months now.”

My pulse quickens. Sentinel. The boogeyman of the underworld. We’ve brushed up against their operations before, always coming away with more questions than answers.

Mitzy taps her tablet, and a holographic display springs to life above the table. The familiar web of connections, names, and locations floats before us, now grown with new threads connecting pieces of the puzzle we’ve been struggling to solve.

“Let’s go over the structure again,” Mitzy says, manipulating the display. “We’re dealing with nine distinct entities, each headed by an individual we’re calling a Sentinel.”

The hologram shifts, highlighting nine figures. Eight remain frustratingly blank, but one face stands out in sharp relief: Jonathan Greaves, the bastard we cornered on that yacht rescue, the one who slipped through our fingers.

“Thanks to the intel gathered during the Jenna Marlowe case,” Sam continues, “we’ve identified the Ninth Sentinel, Jonathan Greaves. His specialty, as we know, is human trafficking.”

My jaw clenches, a familiar rage burning in my gut. Human trafficking. The lowest of the low. Memories of the yacht op flash through my mind—the terrified girls, the stench of fear and desperation. Jenna clinging to my brother when he rescued her. The way Sophia looked at me, her expression bouncing between hope and distrust. I rescued her, and I still can’t get the way she clung to me out of my head.

Sophia. The name echoes in my mind, stirring up feelings I’ve been trying to bury. Focus, Jackson. This isn’t the time.

“Unfortunately,” Forest’s deep voice pulls me back to the present, “Greaves is still in the wind after the yacht raid. Finding him is our top priority.”

“Any new leads on the other Sentinels?” Ethan leans forward, his eyes sharp.

“That’s where we need to step up our game.” CJ’s expression hardens. “We need to put faces to the other eight Sentinels, uncover their specialties, and figure out how they’re all connected. Until further notice, Charlie team’s primary mission is to get Greaves. Find out who these other eight are. How they’re connected?—”

“They’re connected through Malfor,” I interject, rolling my eyes. “We all know he’s the kingpin.”

“Shut your trap and let CJ finish.” Ethan’s glare pins me down, his tone delivering a verbal beatdown.

“Just saying, it’s obvious how they’re connected.” I smirk, leaning back slightly.

This is big. Bigger than anything we’ve tackled before. Energy crackles in the air, radiating off my teammates until the entire room buzzes.

“Mitzy and her team will provide tech support. The other Guardian teams—Alpha, Bravo, Delta—will assist as needed, but this is your baby.” Sam addresses that last comment to Ethan.

“There’s one more thing.” Forest’s deep, rumbly voice causes us all to snap to attention. “An asset we have…”

My breath catches. No way. They’re not…

“Sophia Reeves provided us with invaluable information after the yacht rescue,” Forest continues, his gaze sweeping over us. “We’ve decided to grant her protection at Guardian HQ.”

My gut twists at the news. They’re going to use her.

I lean back, trying to mask my reaction. Every muscle in my body tenses, my mind racing through scenarios, each ending with Sophia and me in a situation I shouldn’t be imagining.

Sophia. The woman who’s been haunting my dreams and fueling heated fantasies since I first laid eyes on her is going to be a permanent resident of Guardian HQ?

My pulse quickens, heat creeping up my neck. I can’t stop the flood of images—her soft skin, the way she looked at me, the unspoken connection between us.

Every night since the rescue, she’s been in my thoughts, my dreams. My fantasies.

Now, she’ll be here , within reach, but off limits. The intensity of my attraction doesn’t make sense. For her safety and mine, I need to do whatever it takes to never be alone with her. The thought of having her close, yet untouchable, is maddening. My mind conjures images of her—her body pressed against mine, her breath warm on my skin.

I grit my teeth, trying to banish the fantasies springing to life in the middle of the briefing. My body betrays me, arousal stirring and making it hard to concentrate. My fingers dig into the armrest as I struggle to maintain composure.

The temptation to be near her, to let my guard down… It’s unbearable. I can’t let this mess with my head or be a distraction. I have to distance myself, no matter how hard it gets.

She’s been through hell, a victim of sexual slavery, and doesn’t need some horn dog Guardian drooling over her.

Get it together. Focus. She deserves better.

Trying to regain composure, I focus back on the meeting, but my mind is already spiraling, fueled by fantasies I have no business pursuing.

I can’t get away from those haunted eyes and her siren’s call.

Kidnapped, captured, sold like livestock, she’s been through hell and back, endured unimaginable trauma at the hands of animals, and all I can think about is fucking her.

I’ve done it in my sleep every night since I first saw her, and I’m not proud of it. I’m deeply ashamed. Deeply aroused.

Deeply fucked ten ways ‘til Sunday.

“Blake,” CJ’s voice slices through my spiraling thoughts. “You’ll be assigned as Sophia’s primary point of contact.”

I do a double take. “What?”

“She latched onto you after the rescue,” Forest explains. “No need to start with someone new when there’s already a connection. You’re the one she trusts. ”

My mind races back to the rescue mission on the Ninth Sentinel’s yacht. We were there for Jenna, but we found Sophia, too. She clung to me like I was her lifeline.

“Your job is to keep her safe, help her get settled, and make her feel comfortable enough to share any more information she might have about Sentinel.”

“After everything she’s been through, you want me to interrogate her?” I glance around the table, searching for any sign that I heard wrong.

“Not interrogate.” Mitzy shakes her head. “Gain her trust. She needs someone she feels safe with.”

“And how am I supposed to do that?”

“Just show her around the place. Make sure she gets what she needs. Be a friend. Get her to open up to you, and hopefully, she’ll share more about Sentinel so that we don’t have to interrogate her.”

“Wouldn’t someone else be better?” Anyone else?

“There is no one else,” CJ says.

“What about Jenna? She and Sophia know each other. Now that Jenna is staying on HQ grounds, that seems the best fit.”

I do not want to babysit Sophia. I want nothing to do with her.

“Jenna isn’t trained for this. Not to mention, she’s not a Guardian HRS employee.” Forest doesn’t mince words. “Until further notice, Sophia is your responsibility.”

“Understood.” I force myself to keep my expression neutral even as my insides churn.

The meeting continues, and I’m completely distracted, flooded with the details of that mission. All I can think about is Sophia—her haunted eyes, her trembling body, the way she looked at me with something that made my heart race and my palms sweat.

None of it makes sense. The intensity of it makes no sense. It twists my thoughts and stirs desires I’ve never felt before.

Sophia changed something in me. She awakened a need that refuses to be ignored. No matter how much I try to push it aside, it keeps coming back, stronger and more insistent. She’s different from any other woman I’ve known—or rescued—and that difference is dangerous .

I can’t get her out of my head, and I don’t know if I ever will.

Why her? Why now?

I’ve rescued countless women, all in similar situations, but none of them affected me like this. None of them crawled under my skin and lodged themselves in my brain like Sophia.

This isn’t attraction; it’s something else. Something confusing. Something inherently dangerous.

I’m stuck in an endless loop of wanting her, needing her, and knowing I must stay away—if only to protect her from myself.

And now, she’s my assignment. Totally fucked.

As we file out of the briefing room, the excited chatter of my teammates fades into the background. They have a new mission. A chance to take down Sentinel. But I get Sophia, the woman who’s literally in my dreams—very dark, very X-rated dreams.

I take a deep breath, squaring my shoulders. Suck it up, buttercup. Nothing you can do about it. Let the games begin.