This Billionaire's Veteran: This Billionaire, #21

By Rachel Foster

Brady is a retired military vet whose time as a mechanic during the war left him with PTSD. He's returned to his small hometown to work at his parent's body shop. He comes from a family who has huge investments in the auto industry. Working on wrecked vehicles gives him flashbacks to things from the war he can't forget. Trying to move on, he doesn't feel like he can confide in anyone, until he meets Betsy. Betsy also suffers from PTSD after her best friend was killed in a car accident that she was in. She meets Brady at a group therapy session. She's intrigued by him but wonders why he attends the meetings if he won't talk. Determined to find out what happened, she becomes close with Brady. Now they're falling for each other, but both of their pasts bring up issues and problems they feel they can't get past. Will they be able to work through their problems or will their past keep them from their future together? 

• Language: English
• Publisher: 3rd Publishing
• Release date: Mar 7, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215072264

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This Billionaire's Veteran

Rachel Foster

Copyright © 2018 by Rachel Foster

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Epilogue

1

B

rady

The air was brisk as I rolled beneath a Cadillac with a few tools resting on my stomach. I didn’t mind the chilly weather. It was mild compared to the winter and broke up the sweaty, stuffy feeling that typically hung heavy in the shop on long days at work. My jaw tightened as I focused on my task and shifted my legs, wiggling my feet to keep them from falling asleep.

No use letting my limbs go bad. My brain is bad enough, I thought as I finished up my task. Though, I’m not sure I care at this point.

I slid from beneath the vehicle and tugged a handkerchief from my pocket, wiping the sweat from my forehead. It was still stuffy, regardless of the fact that I had the shop door wide open. The breeze rolled in and swept some of the warmth away, causing me to close my eyes and listen.

The guys on the other side of the shop were chatting about sports. I think it was football. The gaping garage doors allowed light to spill into the shop, rays of sun reaching my boots and warming my toes. My stomach growled viciously. I opened my eyes and checked the clock, realizing I was supposed to take my lunch an hour ago.

I sighed as I scooted across the floor to set my tools aside. I could get back to the Cadillac later. My father would chastise me if I didn’t take my lunch. As I walked into the employee lounge, I fished my phone out of my left pocket and scrolled through a few messages, streaking grease on the screen. I didn’t care.

Leo wants to meet for lunch, I observed silently. I guess that would be fine.

I texted Leo to let him know I was on my way to the diner. I went to the sink, washed up as best I could, and dragged myself to the parking lot outside. I marched past the cars lining the area—a mixture of mechanics and customers alike—and hopped through the bushes separating the parking lot from the sidewalk. I walked purposefully toward the intersection, crossed the street, and then sidled into the diner that sat on the curb of Fairfield Ave and Park St.

The bell jingled above my head. One of the waitresses, a fiery girl with bright red hair and a nose piercing, smiled warmly in my direction and nodded toward the table in the back where Leo was waiting for me. I gave him a polite smile as I slid into the booth across from him.

Hi, Brady, May said as she set an empty mug in front of me and added a heaping amount of steaming hot coffee to it. The usual?

Please.

She nodded and disappeared to the kitchen. I focused on Leo, trying to keep my smile. I didn’t succeed.

Dude, he said. It’s nice to see you all dirty and working again.

Yeah, it’s a little different than it was in the military.

He nodded. Doing alright?

Taking it day by day.

That makes sense.

I coughed. Yeah, it’s just...one thing at a time.

How’s the shop?

Better than ever since I got back. Dad is happy.

Leo grinned. That’s always good.

I just wish... I trailed off as I stared out the window. A booming roar echoed in the background—maybe a plane flying too low or a helicopter—that had stolen my attention. I gaped out the window as images flashed through my head. They were never strikingly clear, but the impressions they left were enough to make me lose my appetite. I swallowed hard as I procured a paperclip out of my pocket. I twisted it, played with it, beneath the table, out of sight.

Out of mind.

Brady?

I turned like a deer in headlights to Leo who was wearing a dark expression. He knew without asking. He could tell what was happening.

I waved away his concern. I’m fine.

It was a helicopter.

I know that.

He nodded. It’s okay to get reminders.

I said I knew that.

Alright. Sorry.

The table fell quiet, a deathly curtain that reminded me of the stark emptiness following a battle. It was a wretched feeling to peek up from a barrier and realize that all fighting had ceased—and to realize precisely why all fighting had ceased.

I twisted the paperclip harder.

So, how are you? I asked quickly, rushing to change the subject. How’s everything?

For the most part, it’s good. I’ve been focusing on increasing gym memberships.

That’s really good.

He gave me a knowing grin. You know, I know what you’re experiencing, right?

Everybody knows.

No, Brady. I mean, I was there with you. I know what you’re feeling.

I nodded slowly. I didn’t want to talk about it, but I knew he wouldn’t let it go. Not because he was a pushy person, but because he was a good friend.

Sometimes, still, it felt like pushing.

I was right next to you, he added in a low voice. I get it. I know what you’re feeling.

I appreciate that.

I know you’re tired of hearing it.

I laughed suddenly, a truly genuine laugh that cleared my head. Yeah.

That’s why we stick together. We know. Personally.

We do.

He nodded. Before he could say anything, May returned with our order. She set our plates in front of us and asked if we needed anything else. I requested ketchup for my burger. She retreated to the kitchen and returned with a brand new bottle that hadn’t been opened. As she handed it to me, she winked.

When she was gone, Leo gave me a devilish grin. So, I hear May is freshly single.

Don’t.

He laughed. I can’t help it. You look like you could use a woman’s touch.

I tried that, remember? She couldn’t handle my shit.

That’s not your fault, Brady.

I shrugged while tearing the seal from the bottle. I dabbed ketchup all over my burger, placed the bun on top, and set the bottle aside. I chose to eat instead of speak. It was nice just to have company. I knew Leo knew. It was just part of doing battle together. It was what made us brothers. Not in blood, but in bond.

After I finished my meal, I offered to pay, to which he opposed, as he often did. We danced for a little while verbally, each of us citing all the meals that the other had paid for in the past. In the end, my best friend won, and he snatched the check from May before I could grab it. She chuckled with familiarity as she retreated behind the counter to serve a few folks who were sitting by themselves.

I shook my head. You really ought to treat your battle brother better. You’re being rude.

"Oh, no. I’m being rude by paying for things, Leo teased with a grin as he slapped his card on the check. How dare I treat you with respect."

Dork.

Nerd.

I chuckled. Thanks for lunch.

Listen, don’t work yourself too hard. You’re a valuable friend.

Don’t get mushy on me, Leo. You know it makes me feel weird.

He shook his head. Nah, you don’t get out of this one. Just for today, I want you to know that I’m here if you need anything.

I held his gaze for a few seconds and then smiled, sighing as I glanced down at my hands. My palms were calloused, stained with grease that simply wouldn’t come out, fingernails black at the edges, and scars running the length of my knuckles up to my wrists.

Alright, I conceded. I met his gaze sharply. "But only for today."

I’ll take that.

Thanks, Leo.

He smiled warmly. You’re welcome. I’ll see you later.

Later.

I left the diner behind, welcoming the fresh air blanketing St. George, Utah with early signs of spring. I wandered leisurely back to the shop, clocked in, and returned to the Cadillac, focusing so hard on the vehicle that I didn’t hear the buzzer reverberating off the shop walls. Plenty of noises erupted in the background that I didn’t bother to hear: doors slamming shut, men talking, boots scraping the ground, and the hinges of the garage doors squealing as they shut.

And then silence. Dead silence.

That caught my attention.

I wheeled out from beneath the vehicle and packed up my tools. As I wiped my hands on the thighs of my overalls, my father slid into the shop, looking as handsome and dapper as ever. He was wearing a business suit, simple but professional, and appeared to have just walked over from the main building. It must have been the end of the day. His tie was undone.

I smiled in greeting. Hey, Dad.

Son, how’s it going?

Fine.

He eyed me carefully, tucking his hands into his pockets in a way only a father with years of practiced concern weighing on his shoulders could.

He shrugged lightly. Want to come to dinner with your mother and me? We would love to have you over. She’s making pot roast.

That sounds nice.

What do you say?

I sighed as I tugged my handkerchief from my pocket and swept it over my forehead. Grease lingered around my eyes. They were beginning to burn.

Thanks, Dad, but I think I’ll just head home for the night. Really busy day and could use some rest.

Are you sure?

I stood up to meet his height. I had always been shorter than my father when I was a kid, but as soon as I reached puberty, I started shooting into the air like a skyscraper from downtown. I was well over two inches taller than him at this point, and the boots added an extra half inch. He seemed small in front of me. His concern made him seem even smaller.

He held my gaze steady. Are you sure? he repeated.

Yeah, I’m positive.

He rested his hand on my shoulder. Will you consider going to that group therapy I recommended?

Dad, not now.

It could be good for you.

I slid away from his hand and walked to the desk on the far wall. As I slid off my gloves, I added, I appreciate it, Dad, but I’m fine.

I trust your judgment.

It was a strange thing to hear from my father. Ever since I had gotten back from the war—from those dreadful nights spent in utter horror with the truth of the world hanging over my head—he had treated me differently. He wasn’t as stern as he used to be, and maybe that was just what came with age and having kids who were growing up. I mean, I was grown up at this point. Maybe he was just treating me like any man.

But I wasn’t just any man. I was his kid. I think he still saw me as his little boy every time he looked at me, but I couldn’t ever truly tell. All I could ever see lately was concern—in everyone.

Just think about it, he said softly, also strange for him. I’ll see you tomorrow, son.

Night, Dad.

Goodnight.

He left. The silence of the shop was deafening, almost dangerous. It was the same stillness that had come mere seconds after the last blast on the field, the only echo remaining that of clods of dirt raining rhythmically from the sky. That dirt had landed on my Army uniform, on my tattered boots, on my tired hands, and on my shocked face. Quiet—it was too quiet. Just like then. And I couldn’t escape it.

2

B

etsy

Yarn decorated the register, some of the spools having come undone from curious children who decided to see how much yarn was on each one. As I raveled the threads back together as neatly as possible, one of my co-workers wandered up to my register.

Betsy, she greeted cheerfully. I can’t believe I only have one week left working with you.

I smiled weakly. I know. I can’t believe it, either.

I set the yarn down and rounded the register to give her a hug. I embraced her tightly, trying to commit her image to memory.

I’ll keep in touch, I said as I took a step back. I promise, Elizabeth. You’ll hear from me as often as possible.

Roanoke won’t be the same without you.

It happens. I’m sure life will go on.

She giggled. Not here. Not in this store.

You’ll survive. I left you in the hands of good people.

You mean like Gary? He takes a smoke break every hour, even when it’s busy.

I rolled my eyes. I spoke to Gary about that, and he promised he would switch to every two hours instead. You let me know if you have any problems.

What in the world could you do from Utah?

I could give him a piece of my mind.

She laughed. I suppose that’ll keep him in mind. Permission to use you as a card to whip out whenever I need to whip him into shape?

Permission granted.

"I just can’t believe you’re going to Utah of all places."

I sighed. I don’t want to go, but my aunt needs me. It’s where I grew up.

Oh, that sounds nice. Are you on good terms with your aunt?

Yeah, we’re on great terms. She’s pretty excited about me coming back.

She grinned. And what about you? Are you excited?

I haven’t quite decided yet. I’ll tell you one thing, though. I will miss having a Target right down the road.

Her eyes went as round as two spectacular moons. Are you serious? It’s that far out?

I mean, I’m sure St. George has made some nice updates, but I don’t know yet.

Gosh, I hope so. I can’t imagine being without my late-night Target runs.

I nodded. Exactly.

It sounds like you might be in for a bit of a culture shock.

I laughed as I gently waved her aside. A customer was approaching the register, an older woman who often came in on Friday afternoons with yards upon yards of fabric.

Hi, Mrs. Tarten. It’s nice to see you again, I greeted as I rang up her order. What are you making this weekend?

A blanket for my nephew. He was just born last week!

Congrats! That sounds like such wonderful news.

She grinned wide as she rested a wrinkled hand on her wallet. He’s a plump boy, healthy. God bless him, he’s going to grow up to look just like his father.

Well, I can’t wait to hear how the blanket turns out.

Elizabeth, who had been setting Mrs. Tarten’s things in the cart, shot me a worried glance. I gave her a reassuring look that silently told her not to say anything.

I smiled at our customer and handed her change. I hope you have a wonderful weekend, Mrs. Tarten. Let us know how that blanket turns out.

I’ll be sure to bring pictures, she assured. You girls have a lovely weekend!

You, too, Elizabeth replied.

When Mrs. Tartan left, she whirled on me and crossed her arms. Now, come on. You can’t tell me you weren’t ever going to tell that sweet old woman that you’re moving.

I didn’t want her to get upset.

So, you want me to deliver the news?

I shook my head. I’ll tell her after she brings in pictures. I don’t want her to be upset, Liz. Please, don’t be mad.

Her stern eyes softened. Oh, I can’t ever stay mad at you. I get it.

She wrapped me in another hug and I sighed, emotions overwhelming me suddenly. I glanced at the clock and realized I had fifteen minutes left.

I’m going to clean up a bit, I told her while stepping away. Then, I’m heading home. We can do something before I leave.

I’d like that a lot. Need help with putting things back?

Sure, that would be great.

She smiled as she went to the corner of the store where we kept the carts out of the way filled with things that needed to be stocked in their proper places. We each grabbed a cart and wandered leisurely through the store, talking about recently released movies. Once we were done, I made sure it was time for me to clock out and went to the break room, grabbing my things from my locker.

I sighed as I made my way to the front of the store. I bid farewell to a few regular customers, waved to Elizabeth at her register, and wandered out into the sunny afternoon. The sidewalk opened up and led down the road toward Target. Beyond that was my apartment complex. It was nice to live so close to work. I could walk leisurely and unwind on my way home, taking in the evergreen trees on either side of the road the bushes that sprouted in every direction.

When I reached my apartment, I let myself inside and set my things on the counter. I relaxed at the kitchen table and dropped my head into my hands, shrugging my shoulders. I was more tired than usual. Having to inform all of my co-workers that I was leaving had been a huge task, one that drained me a lot more than holidays at the craft store.

I sat up and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as I pulled my phone out of my pocket. I clicked on my aunt’s name and held the phone to my ear as the line trilled.

The line clicked when she picked up.

Hi, Aunt Mae! I said. How are you doing?

Hi, sweetie. I’m doing well. How are you?

I shrugged. I’m tired from work, but that’s pretty standard for me.

Well, I’m counting down the days until you’re here with the dogs. They’re excited to see you. Aren’t you, Lucy?

I heard a yip in the background and chuckled. Where’s Moe?

He’s probably getting into something.

Those two are wild.

She laughed. But they’re good babies. It’s my fault. I spoil them.

They deserve to be spoiled.

You’re right about that. So, you’re getting in next week? Week after?

I nodded. Week after. I have one more week at work, and then I can move into your place.

Are you bringing much with you? There’s plenty of space, so you don’t have to get rid of your furniture.

Honestly, all my furniture is so old, it’s falling apart. I’d rather just bring my bed and dresser. Everything else is getting donated.

She sighed. Honey, that’s so sweet of you.

I figure it could be useful elsewhere, even if it’s just for firewood.

"Oh, they can’t be that bad."

I stared at the tattered couch that had certainly seen better days. I don’t know, Aunt Mae. It’s pretty awful.

Well, I’m sure it’ll be useful to someone. And, I’m glad your job is letting you leave.

Yeah, it took some serious convincing. I had to assure them that you were paying me.

She laughed. I’m glad they understand.

"Aunt Mae, I appreciate that you are paying me, but do you have to pay me so much money just to stay at your house and take care of your dogs? I feel bad about it."

Oh, dear. You have nothing to feel bad about. It’s worth my peace of mind. Can’t I treat my only niece special?

I smiled warmly. I guess I’ll allow it.

Well, good. Because I’m not lowering the price. I want you to move in, be comfortable, and watch the babies. Besides, they love you. Nobody else can handle them like you do.

I guess that’s true.

She chuckled. You can guess all day, but there’s no one else I trust with this matter. It’s too important to me.

Thank you, Aunt Mae.

And, it’ll give you some rest. You work so much, dear.

I chortled. I have to work. I might as well do it all the time. I don’t do anything else. It’s not like I have a boyfriend or anything.

Maybe you can meet someone here.

I cringed at the thought. I wasn’t sure if I was ready for that, especially after what happened six months ago.

I tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace, instead. I twisted my fingers together as I balanced the phone between my shoulder and ear. Yeah, that might be nice.

Or you can just spend time with the dogs. It’s up to you, sweetie.

Thanks, Aunt Mae.

I could hear her smile as she said, I really am looking forward to seeing you. I know your parents are excited as well.

Yeah, I can’t wait to be back. I’ve missed St. George just a little bit.

I’m glad to hear it.

Barking erupted in the background, causing me to grab the phone and hold it away from my ear. I could barely hear my aunt over the noise. Eventually, she said, I have to go. The dogs need to go out. Bye!

The line disconnected suddenly, causing me to chuckle. Those dogs were adorable, but they were a lot. They barked at just about any noise that came from outside the door. I was likely going to lose sleep, but that would be fine. I already lose sleep.

Especially since Darcy...

I squeezed my eyes shut, willing away the memory.

No, not now. Let’s not think of that right now. Later.

I stood up and turned toward the counter, gathering some things for a quick dinner. I had already defrosted a salmon fillet and seasoned it. I just needed to heat up the pan and add oil. I prepared a small batch of rice, green beans, and set everything on a plate once it was cooked. I returned to the table and ate slowly.

It was so quiet in my apartment, but I preferred it that way after a long day at work. The silence reminded me that I was by myself, that I didn’t have to answer to anyone, that I didn’t even need to think if I didn’t want to.

But the silence was also dangerous. It brought with it the memories of the accident and the look Darcy had given me before our car was t-boned by that semi-truck. The headlights blinded my vision and caused me to drop my fork. I stared down at my half-eaten food, not quite registering that I was looking at a plate.

I shook my head.

Just bad memories. They’re all just bad memories. They’ll go away, especially when I get as far away from Roanoke as possible. I won’t ever have to think about it again.

I took a shaky breath.

I hope this doesn’t keep haunting me.

3

B

rady

I lifted a bowl of popcorn from my coffee table as I kept my eyes hooked on the flat screen television mounted on the wall across from me. Saturdays were movie days. I had the movie channel on, not minding exactly what I was watching or whether I was truly invested in it.

I mindlessly munched on the popcorn, enjoying the buttery and salty taste filling my mouth. I reached for my soda