I dropped my bag and ran toward the man as fast as I could. The woman turned and ran toward the building again – and they were headed straight for Reece. He finally reached the woman and grabbed her by her hair. It was then I could see he had a knife in his hand. The woman screamed when he caught her, but she quickly elbowed him in the face. He let go of her and the knife. The door to the building was open as someone was just coming out. Reece was still standing there, seeming frozen in shock. I reached the man right as he was elbowed in the face, and watched the woman run inside the building, still screaming. I had the guy by the back of the shirt, grateful he was smaller than me, but then he suddenly pulled out of my grip, reared his arm back, and punched me straight in the jaw.
“Motherfucker!” I yelled.
He turned around, picked up the knife, and ran straight for the building. Quick little fucker. Seeing as though he couldn’t get in without a code, he grabbed Reece around the neck and held the knife to it. “Put the code in, bitch, now.”
Reece screamed and I fucking lost it.
She lifted a violently shaking hand to the keypad and the only thing I could think was that there was no way this lunatic was going to get into this building. My second thought was that I was going to fuck him up for holding a knife to my girl.
I ran as fast as I could and grabbed the asshole by the hair and smashed his face into the glass in front of the door. He again dropped the knife and I kicked it out of his reach. He screamed in pain and I reached around and pulled out my pistol and pushed it into the back of his head.
“Call the police!” I yelled at Reece and immediately regretted yelling when I saw her face crumpled in fear and terror.
She nodded and with shaky hands, began to try to find her phone in her purse. I heard sirens getting closer and was relieved that someone else had already called them.
“Let me go, you asshole!” the guy said, trying to jerk out of my grip.
God, I wished I had some handcuffs right about now.
I kicked his legs out from under him and had him face-down on the ground and then sat on him. Half his bloodied face was on the ground now, and I pressed my gun into his temple.
“I swear to God, I will shoot you in the fucking head if you so much as move under me. The cops are coming and I will gladly go to jail for killing you. You obviously need to learn how to respect women.”
“Fuck you! Get off me!” he yelled back. His hands weren’t restrained and he was trying to use them to push up off the ground. I pounded him in the right shoulder with my fist and he lay back down.
Thankfully, the cops came quickly. They drew their weapons and pointed them at us.
“Drop your weapon now!” one yelled at me.
I set it on the ground slowly and then kicked it over to them, then stood with my hands up.
“This guy’s the one you want,” I yelled back at them.
The dude, of course, immediately got up and tried to run, but there was another cop already on the side of the building who tackled him quickly.
One police officer approached me slowly and told me to put my hands behind my back. I complied because I knew he was just doing his job. They have to secure everyone first for their safety, then sort out the scene.
“No!” Reece yelled. “Not him! He saved me.”
“We’ll get your statement in a minute, ma’am,” the officer said.
“It’s okay, baby. He’s just doing his job. Just tell them what happened,” I called to her.
Tears streamed down her face and she was fiercely trembling. So was I, for that matter. What a rush that was!
He put me in the back of the squad car and then closed the door. I looked at the police putting up crime scene tape, and others collecting the knife and gun from the ground. Then I saw the woman victim slowly come out of the building crying. She and Reece talked with the police for a few minutes and then one came over and let me out of the car. He took the handcuffs off.
“I’m Detective Allen with St. Pete PD. Thank you for helping out here. However, I’m gonna have to ask if you have a permit for that gun.”
I nodded. “Yes, I do. I am the Head of Security with Blackwood Security in Tampa. However, I’ve only ever fired that gun at the firing range.”
He chuckled. “Okay. I need to see some ID, though.”
I nodded. “Sure.” I reached into my back pocket and pulled out my wallet and driver’s license.
“Hunter Jenkins. I’m gonna have to run you for warrants real fast, then I’ll get your weapon back to you.”
I nodded in understanding, and as he walked away, I went over to Reece and wrapped her in a hug. “You okay, baby?”
She nodded but just sniffled in response.
“Shh. It’ll be okay.”
She looked up at me with shiny, red-rimmed eyes. “I’ve never been so scared in my life, Hunter. I thought he was gonna slit my throat.”
“Desperate assholes do desperate things. No way was I gonna let you put that code in. He obviously was trying to kill that girl.”
She nodded. “They live in Apartment 220. They fight all the time. I always wonder why she stays with him. She’s constantly wearing sunglasses and stuff indoors, as if that hides anything.”
“Well he’s gonna go to prison for a long time. He took you hostage, had possession of a weapon, and could even be charged with attempted murder. It’s too bad it took all this to get him in locked up. Bastard.”
“That’s a relief.”
“It doesn’t matter to you, though. Because you are moving the fuck out of this building tomorrow.”
“Hunter…”
“Nope. This isn’t up for discussion. If you won’t move in with me, then I’ll get you an apartment somewhere else.”
She paused a few long seconds, then replied with a sigh, “Okay.”
The detective returned and I gave him my statement. He then returned my gun to me.
I went over to my truck to grab my overnight bag, which was still on the ground next to the door, and took my girl upstairs to start packing.
Chapter 10
Hunter
Six Months Later
I fucking love Tampa. And why do I love it? Because I have a beautiful girlfriend who moved in with me into a small but beautiful little house I just bought, and I have a beautiful new job.
I lasted about five months at Blackwood Security before deciding it wasn’t for me. Every single day, I would think about the incident in front of Reece’s building and every day I would go to work, wishing someone would try to rob the place, or try to assault me or one of my guards and I could get that kind of rush again. So, much to the dismay of my father, I quit Blackwood Security and joined the Tampa Police Department.
With my back ramrod straight, and my new uniform pressed and perfect, I stood up from my chair and walked onstage when the Police Commissioner had called my name. These Police Academy graduations were a pretty big deal – I had never even attended one.
“Hunter Thomas Jenkins,” he said, shaking my hand and handing me a small diploma.
Reece and my sister stood up and screamed, but my parents stayed seated, clapping. I could tell my parents were proud, even if my dad was too stubborn to admit it.
Reece had not been happy with my decision to join the Tampa PD. Not only was it dangerous, I was literally going to be making about half of what I was at Blackwood. But I didn’t care. I knew this was my calling. This was why I chose Criminal Justice as a degree. I knew I eventually wanted to make Detective, and I probably would, but I had a couple years of walking the streets and working horrid shifts to get there. I didn’t mind.
Reece had a year and a half left on her nursing internship and I really didn’t want her working so she could concentrate on her studies, but she insisted she wanted her own money, so I didn’t say anything when she picked up a couple shifts a week at a local chain restaurant. Whatever made her happy made me happy. And we were happy.
I already had plans to propose to
her the day she graduates from the Nursing Program. At least I have a while to plan on how I’ll do it, because it’s going to have to be an epic proposal. And it will be with the size of diamond I’m saving up for.
The End
Author’s Note:
This story of Hunter and Reece is a prequel to my Imperfect Heroes Series. This series details four former military men who have gotten out of the service and are living as civilians, looking for love. I would suggest starting with the novella that kicked off the series, Antihero. After that, Above Protection picks up where Antihero left off, and then Beneath Broken is the next. The final book in the series, Beyond Love, will be out in April 2017. I hope you loved Hunter’s story. You will meet him again in Beneath Broken, which takes place present day. Hope you love my heroes! ~C.J.
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C.J. is a USA TODAY Bestselling author living in Colorado. Lover of red wine, wearer of fabulous shoes, and a die-hard Niner fan, she’s also an editor at heart. She’s written over a dozen books and short stories that contain both contemporary/new adult and paranormal romance that are a little bit badass, a little heart-wrenching, and sort of funny (to her, anyway). Almost all of her books usually contain law enforcement or military undertones, since strong, brave, alpha men and women are her weaknesses. When she’s not writing, she can be found working at a very strange day job, which may or may not have some mild influences on her gripping stories – so strange, in fact, she may just write a book about it one day.
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The Billionaire’s
Fake
Girlfriend
By
Sierra Rose
Copyright 2015 by Sierra Rose
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Book cover by: Book Cover by Design
Chapter 1
I was flying on a crystal clear morning. The sky was tinted pink with the rising sun, and clouds parted lightly between my fingers. I picked up speed and let my long hair stream out behind me as my heart slowed to a steady, calming beat. There was nothing that could touch me up here. Nothing that could find me. My eyes closed and a gentle smile warmed my face.
I wasn’t coming down this time. I’d found my heaven. I’d found my peace.
Until…
A thousand screams tore apart the skies as fire rained down from above. I covered my head and tried to get back to the ground, but I already knew what was coming.
The dragon had attacked many times before.
I ducked and rolled through the smoking clouds, dodging molten streams of death, until all at once, the beast was upon me. And it was MASSIVE! My eyes widened to terrified saucers as I gazed up in sick horror. The monster opened its mouth, almost like it was smiling at me. But just as it drew up a final breath to smite me once and for all—
—it turned into a puzzle and dissolved into a million pieces.
Wait…what?
I pried open my eyes and squinted up at the ceiling as bits of plaster and dust misted from above. A predictable sliding thump rattled the rafters, and I covered my face with a groan. Mrs. Wakowski was up to her Zumba earlier than usual today. My alarm hadn’t even gone off.
Then it went off.
“You are going to be late again. You silly, irresponsible girl. You are going to be late.”
Speak of the devil. It started repeating the same line over and over again. I slammed the top of the clock and cursed the cosmic forces once again for sticking me with this apartment. It wasn’t easy to find affordable living in East Hollywood. Certain horrifying concessions had to be made. Mrs. Wakowski and her early morning Zumba were just the tip of the iceberg. Then there were the roaches, the gas leaks, the police helicopters, and the overall stench of urine baking up from the sidewalks. But my recurring dragon dream…?
To be honest, I had no godly idea how that fit in.
I shimmied out of bed and landed on the ground with an undignified thud. My industrial-grade fan—aka “my personal savior,” aka did I mention there was no air-conditioning?—shot all my hair back like I’d been shocked and I was quick to angle it away with my toe as I pulled myself up to my full height and cast a wary glance into the mirror.
This had to be what they meant when they said, “trying to make it in LA.” I felt like I was the poster girl.
Long auburn hair, pale creamy skin, a pretty face, and a rail-thin body. In any other town, I’d be a knockout, a star. But for whatever reason, in this city built on the parking tickets and rent traps of other small-town stars, I was one in a million. And not in the good way.
With a habitual sigh, I leaned in to see what the damage was today. Eyes were red, but not puffy. Dark circles were already fading. Not bad after a night of heavy drinking. My liver, on the other hand? It was best not to think about it.
There’d been a lot of these nights lately, it seemed. It had started as a tradition between my roommate Amanda
and me. Every time we didn’t get a part we auditioned for (this included getting turned away from the casting beforehand because the coveted two-line role had been filled sometime in the six hours we were standing in line), we would come together over a bottle of tequila and flip on a Netflix fest as we wallowed and swallowed our grief. It was actually pretty fun. Much more fun than waiting forever at the castings.
A muffled retching from bathroom let me know that Amanda wasn’t having as much fun as I was.
I slipped on a pair of amethyst scrubs, pulled my hair back into a messy bun, and grabbed my Chapstick as I made my way out into the hall. Deevus, our three-legged cat, hobbled past me chasing a Tasmanian twister of dust sent flying by my fan. I tripped over his knobby back and set him off yowling as I made my way to the bathroom.
“Sorry, Deevus. Tell ya what. I’ll get you some milk.”
I poured a tiny bit of milk on a plate and set it on the floor. “Am I forgiven?”
He meowed. I kissed him on the head and listened to him purr. He was a stray my roommate picked up. We had no idea if he had been in some kind of accident, but we loved him all the same. He could be grumpy at times, but that’s when we loved him even more.
After pulling on my shoe, I knocked softly on the door. “You okay in there?”
A half-strangled gurgling noise answered me. Something that actually sounded uncannily like our cat. The toilet flushed, the sink ran, and a second later, I heard Amanda slide down against the other side of the door.
“That was the last time,” she moaned. “I’m serious.”
“Yep,” I agreed, as I was certainly expected to. “Well, I’m off to work, okay?”
Bad Boys & Billionaires: An Anthology Page 21
