His Daredevil

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Book 3 of the Jackson Series! Elena Moretti is a journalist...but more importantly, a troublemaker. So, it's no surprise when she gets involved in a chase for a serial killer targeting young girls. Her only distraction? The ever serious and reserved, Roman Jackson. He's leading the case and can't help but be infuriated by the woman who seems to have a death wish. But as he tries to get her to stay out of trouble he finds her growing on him along the way. A wild woman with no filter and a sucker for trouble. Looks like Roman Jackson has finally met his match. *** "Do you want to move to the back to sleep?" Roman asks and I shake my head slowly. "I don't think that's a good idea." "What - why?" He frowns at me in confusion before following my gaze to the rear-view mirror. "Fuck me!" There's a large van and three cars following us. The fact that they're all blacked out and roughed up is a huge giveaway. I open the compartment in front of me and grab the gun, making sure it's loaded and the safety is off. "Maybe after we make it out of this alive." He rolls his eyes before accelerating.

Romance / Adventure
Rose ♡
4.9 54 reviews
Age Rating:

1 - Fired

Important things to note:

- This is set only a few months after His Dreamer so Roman has now turned 28.

- The Italian language is used but incorrectly I’m sure so any corrections are welcome.

- The female main character is irrational and reckless and at times you will not like her/think she’s being stupid. Just giving you all a heads up when you’re screaming or pulling your hair out in frustration haha! Please remember that she’s a character and this book is fiction. Nothing is real. It is not to be related to the real world.

- Anything that is said about journalism and Roman’s job in the FBI/with the police is made up. It is not to be related to the real world as it is all invented. This is not how it works in the real world.

This is not a standalone book. Please read the first two books - His Nightingale & His Dreamer - as you need to know important information as you progress through each book.

Elena Moretti’s P.O.V.

I rest my chin on my hand as I wait for him to speak. His eyes merely skim over each page quickly with disinterest. It’s driving me up the walls and I’m imagining all the ways I can kill him in my mind. But thankfully, I don’t have to wait long for him to speak.

“This is garbage Elena and you know it.” Wallis, my boss, throws the folder back on the desk.

I grit my teeth to stop myself from going off on him. He barely looked through it! Recently, there has been numerous murders of teen girls in New Mexico, Texas, Oklahoma, Arkansas and Louisiana. I put it down to a serial killer case judging by the initials, D.S., that he carves into the victim’s bodies and the fact that he only murders teen girls who are close to graduating.

“Wallis...” I start with a deep exhale. “There’s a serial killer on the loose and you think it’s garbage?!”

“I’m sick and tired of you barging into my office with no evidence –”

“The evidence is in the file that you didn’t read! You always do this! You run other journalist’s stories even if mine are just as good if not better!” I slam my fists on the table.

He snorts like a pig and follows it up with a scoff. “So, you’re jealous! Way to be professional Elena!”

I clench the table as I seethe in red hot fury. “Wow! You’re going to deflect the attention from the fact that you discriminate between employees! Nice try but it’s not going to work, douche bag!”

“You’re fired!”

“Fuck you, you pig-headed bastard! All you do is eat donuts and get fatter by the day! No wonder your wife divorced you! Your head is so far up your own asshole to put the company and real-life matters a priority! Fucking blind idiot! Rot in hell bitch!” I scream before grabbing the folder I had spent hours preparing last night and slamming the door shut.

Storming to my desk I pack everything up while the entire floor stares at me in silence. Rage courses through my veins as I think of the many ways I can kill that son of a bitch. Heck, I’d ask that serial killer to chop Wallis to pieces if I could! Grabbing a box, I throw my things into it before swinging my bag onto my shoulder.

Walking towards the lift, I stop before turning around and entering his office again. He’s sitting in his seat with his feet up on the table and surprise surprise...eating a donut. He jumps when I let the door smack against the wall and I smirk when his precious little donut drops to the ground.

“Watch me hand this story to our top competitor and have them run it! You’ll be fucking sorry then but you know what? You can suck my spirit dick, peasant!” I flip him the bird before slamming the door once more and marching out of the building.

I hail a taxi and rattle off the address to my apartment. As I sit there fuming a memory comes to mind. I remember my Canadian friend who I went to college with, Hailey. We both graduated at twenty-one years old and it’s been three years since. When I was job searching she had wanted me to join the media company she’s working in. But I had chosen to stay in the US and landed a job at the shitty company that’s run by an even shittier person. I have been wanting to leave ever since his behavior started changing for the worst. Sighing I decide to give her a call when I reach my apartment.

Eventually the driver pulls up to my street and I pay him the fare before hopping out. Walking into the building I groan at the ten flight of stairs that I must climb because the lift has decided to stop working...again. Grumbling under my breath I start making my way up the stairs with my heavy bag and box of things.

I’m sweating by the time I reach the tenth floor and cursing the day I agreed to get this apartment. Setting the box down by my feet I rummage around in my bag until my hands close around a set of keys. Unlocking the door, I slide the box of belongings inside with a little more force than necessary before letting the door slam shut behind me.

I check the fridge for what to cook tonight but groan when a lone carton of milk and two eggs greet me. I was supposed to go to the supermarket today! Cursing Wallis under my breath I decide to just place an order for some Chinese food. After that’s done I change into my sweatpants and a pajama shirt before taking a seat on my couch. I decide to call Hailey as I’m waiting for my food and thankfully she picks up on the fourth ring with an excited “hello!”

“Hails! How are you?” I grin, her cheerful mood is just infectious regardless of my shitty day.

“I’m great! What about you? How’s work?” She asks which makes me sigh heavily. “Oh no...what happened this time?”

“Um...I need a job.”

“You finally left that shit hole?!” She squeals in excitement which makes me laugh.

“Fired actually because I called Wallis out on treating some employees better than others a.k.a. me.” I explain as I pick at the hem of my blanket.

“So, when are you going to come to Canada?” She wonders and I can hear the coffee machine working in the background. “I can talk to my boss and get you in. He’s a tough nut to crack but I’m sure it won’t be that hard considering your experience.”

“I’m working on a story right now that I can pitch actually. Would you be able to get me a meeting with him? Hopefully it impresses your boss enough for me to land a job.” I reply and become excited at the prospect of moving to Canada.

She asks me about the story and I tell her everything. After hearing it all she encourages me to investigate further and suggests that I go to one of the police departments to find out if they’ve got anything on the serial killer. Thanking her for the idea I ask her about what she’s been up to and we end up chatting until my food arrives. Funnily enough she had ordered herself some takeaway too.

After promising to keep her updated on the progress I take out my laptop to do some digging. Opening my takeout boxes, I throw the chopsticks onto my coffee table before grabbing a fork and digging in. Once upon a time I had tried my hardest to learn how to use chopsticks but to no avail. Since the murders are happening in Texas now I search up their police department and come across an article. Clicking on it I find myself reading the details of the latest press conference. But a certain police chief officer catches my eye.

“Kyle Wilson.” I murmur aloud as a picture of him dressed in his uniform loads.

I take down the details and numbers before continuing a show I’m watching on Netflix. I basically inhale the food because of how hungry I am and I get a little sad when it’s all finished. I do this to myself regularly which is not savoring the food and eating like a proper human being.

Distractedly I crack the cookie to reveal my fortune. “Love is on the horizon,” it says and I snort before throwing it back into the bag with the rest of the rubbish. As if that’s going to happen, I think to myself with a roll of my eyes.

After the episode finishes I power off my laptop before walking into my bedroom. My apartment’s tiny but cluttered with stuff here and there. It consists of the usual sitting room, kitchen, one bathroom and one bedroom. It’s not much but it does the job. I hop into the shower and clean my hair before spending more time than necessary thinking about random shit.

Eventually, when the water becomes colder, I hop out and dry my body off. While I apply some moisturizer, I notice my blonde hair and make a mental note to myself to get more highlights put in. I never put lighter highlights in because then it doesn’t compliment my tan skin and brown eyes. I’m the exact copy of my mother, curves and all. But thankfully I inherited my height from dad and I stand at five foot, eight inches.

Just as I’ve changed into my pajama bottoms I hear my phone ring. I hurry to my nightstand and take it off charge before accepting the call. “Ciao, mamma. Tutto bene?” [Hello, mama. How are you?]

She greets me in return and I hear my dad in the background as she puts it on speaker. I was born and raised in Rome, Italy but at eighteen I came to America to study at one of the colleges in California. I’m the baby of the family with three older brothers.

We talk about our days and I reveal the fact that I’m jobless. Instantly they blame it on something I must have done, which is no surprise since I’ve always been the troublemaker of the family. But I finally manage to convince them that my boss was a grade A asshole. Of course, they try to persuade me to go back to Italy but I refuse. I want to have a proper shot at finding a new job so moving back home is the last resort for me.

“Hai mangiato?” She asks worriedly as always and I smile. [Have you eaten?]

“Sì, mamma.” I reply positively before dad starts talking to me about one of our neighbors.

I spend about half an hour with them on the phone before dad says he needs to go to work. I glance at the time to see that it’s eleven thirty at night already and bid them goodbye with the promise of calling tomorrow. Sighing I slip under the covers and turn off the lamp. I lay there wide awake for some time as I worry about the road ahead but it doesn’t take me long to shrug it off.

I’m going to get that job if it’s the last thing I do, I think to myself before turning on my side. Eventually sleep pulls me into its dark abyss before colors and wild imagination fills it.

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