The Billionaire's Fake Girlfriend: Part 1 (The Billionaire Saga 1)

Strangely enough, there was no need to further assess the situation; I sensed what would happen next. I watched with distant interest as Sam hand-signaled that he was going in. I disagreed. He insisted, and this time didn’t wait for my response. Sam silently took out the single man beside them and huddled behind the women to cut their ties.

Almost home, Sam—we’re almost home! Hang on girls, just a few more minutes and it’ll be a day at the beach.

Lies—all lies! My neck hairs stood up before I even saw the man fire. He shot Sam in the leg, and Sam and I both returned the favor. I prayed that would be the last one, and we could get the hell out of there. The women began unbinding themselves, giving me time to run for Sam. I dragged him to the side of the hut, the air suddenly so hard to breathe. Just as I turned, I knew what my instincts had been telling me all along. This was going to be a failed mission. First Carl, then Sam, now me! Colt showed up in time to get a piece of the action, but not before the pirate released a round that blew both female hostages apart.

In a split second, all was lost.

Sam, we’ve got to get out of here, now! As I looked up and began shaking him awake, there sat Sam with his throat cut ear to ear. Colt flew through the air, slamming the attacker to the ground. This time, it was my turn to defend Colt. I stabbed the attacker right through the ear, watching his life’s blood ooze from his eyes. His face wore a permanent expression of death acknowledged.

It was too late for us to run, so Colt and me hid beneath some blankets in the band’s hut. A deafening silence lifted between us as we huddled together in hopes that we could escape our fate. I was never so thankful for the howling winds and miserable rain that rose above our labored breathing.

No sooner had the band of murderers returned then they were gone again in pursuit of their intruders. They didn’t have enough good sense between them to consider the chances of us still being in their camp. They were in a rage, hungry for the kill, eager to avenge their friends. Again, that eerie silence accompanied by an inner knowingness.

It was as if I was the audience of an action film being directed by myself. For some odd reason, an incredible calm came over me. Colt seemed to feel it too. We weren’t really running, this was only a temporary retreat. We snuck through the slight undergrowth like thieves in the night, returning to the beach for our exit rendezvous. The men were waiting for Colt and I, but this time we welcomed the company. There’s nothing like another Navy Seal to empower and encourage when there seems to be no way out.

The first I knew of my injuries was when I was snatched from the grasp of a clawing wave to be pulled into the boat. My cheek was torn open to expose the bone, but the wound wasn’t near as deep as the one I felt at losing Carl. I reached over to give Colt

a hug, thankful that he was safe as well.

Carl would have appreciated the fact that Colt had made it out, that he did his job with such determination and precision.

“Yep, Carl would have been glad about that.”

“Pardon, sir? What was that you said?”

“Nothing. Didn’t know I was talking out loud.” I was glad for the rain that rolled down my cheeks to cover my emotions. I didn’t want anyone to see me as anything less than hard and efficient. A wall that couldn’t be torn down, a fortress that would never fail.

Nobody would know I had left a piece of myself on that beach tonight.

Nobody. Nobody.

Chapter 1

“Nobody. Nobody.” I heard myself repeating the words over and over, absently stroking Colt’s neck as he sat by my bedside. He was my faithful companion, always there for me when the nightmares threatened to take over my reality. At least once or twice a month I had the same dream, leaving my body clammy and my head aching for a release from the pain of deep loss.

Carl had trusted me, and I had let him down. Now Colt trusted me; would I let him down as well?

“Hey, buddy. Yeah—you’re a great dog. I know. I know. You’ll protect me; yes you will. I’ve got your back too, you crazy hound.”

Colt continued to sit by my bedside and whine his discomfort at my obvious physical and emotional burden. I reached up to touch the scar on my left cheek. It was a visible memory of my failure, and I wore it with self-loathing. It was not only the end of my career with the Navy Seals, but it was the end of the man I thought I was, the man I could have been. The only one who loved me, no matter what, was Colt, and for the life of me I couldn’t understand why. It was simply another early morning with nothing to alleviate my haunted memories.

“Okay Colt, how about you and me having us a workout and going for a walk?” It was only 5:00 a. m., and I’d been awake for hours.

It was always the same—memory of the mission, failed attempt to change the outcome, wake up in the middle of the night with Colt trying to comfort me, then get up and get busy to avoid any more inner turmoil. This had been a particularly vivid reliving of the nightmare. It was necessary to do something physical to work off the pain, to rid myself of the ongoing night terrors I called life.

I discovered the only way to minimize the thoughts that preyed on my emotions was to maximize the exercise that kept my body rock hard and Navy Seal ready. Even though I got out of the Navy Seals after the mission, I couldn’t get the Navy Seals out of me. I was still edgy, still walking the line between sanity and sainthood, still living life as if there would be no tomorrow—partially in hopes of forgetting about yesterday. Colt knew the routine, and he followed me to gym-hell to work out my demons.

I spent hours in my garage, torturing my body until my biceps bulged in protest and my thighs burned to signal sweet surrender. Because last night’s activities were so relentless, this morning’s activities would be more of the same. It was one of those days that would require a special form of exorcism. I couldn’t get relief until my body was wet, and my mind was spent until I ached for mental release. That’s when Colt brushed against my leg, asking for a little breakfast and a soothing walk in the wooded area surrounding the community.

This morning, not even Colt could distract me from my revelry. I pumped with more gusto than usual, searching for blessed relief. My senses hadn’t dulled, but my body was too busy trying to persuade my mind to give up the war I waged.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a woman motioning her moving van to park just so, the girl none of my concern nor her desire to move into my quaint little neighborhood. I glanced up fully as the van pulled across my drive, its air brakes hissed their wake-up call to me and the entire neighborhood.

I had lived in Flagstaff, Arizona for a year, and I had yet to say more to a neighbor than a weak two-word greeting as Colt and I headed for our walks or went to work at my K-9 Boot Camp. Even there I was aloof and distant with staff and customers, preferring to be alone with my thoughts and the attending dogs I trained. I shook my head in an attempt to clear my wandering mind and focus on the weights, the lifts, the pulleys and bench that supported my hardened body. I let go of my inner turmoil, only to be replaced by the moving van’s outer aggravation. The men were fighting and cursing over a dresser that had hit the ground.

“You put a ding in it!” a man shouted.

“Not my fault. You let go!” The second guy lifted his hands in the air, waving them about with gusto.