Page 54 of Dirty Billionaire

“Isn’t he retired?” I frown, walking to where my water bottle is and chugging down half of it.

I’m pretty sure people think Navy SEALs are magically chiseled, but that’s so fucking far from the truth I don’t even know where to start. We get our reputation because of the hard work and almost superhuman lengths we had to go through to earn our stripes.

That day was a long time ago, but staying in shape is just as essential since starting Black Hawke Security with Aidan Black, a US Marine.

Hence having a good quality gym in our building in Los Angeles.

“Turn on a radio sometime, Josh.” Ryder laughs as he climbs off the rowing machine and walks over.

I grunt.

I do that a lot. Apparently.

“I have Spotify,” I mutter then drag my eyes back to Penny. “Get a number. Tell him I’ll call him back.”

“I tried that,” she replies, crossing her arms in annoyance.

I swear she’s the only person in the universe who questions me and gives me sass.

The only person I let get away with it.

Maybe because she’s in her seventies and mothers us in apick your shit up boys or I’ll put it through the shredderkind of way.

It was that or hire someone in her twenties or thirties who would distract my men or be distracted by them.

I’m not stupid. All of them would want to fuck her.

Or just would.

What a disaster that would be.

I’m not interested in female drama of any kind. I fuck them and thank them. Which I think is fair. I don’t want to know about their exes, their family issues, or even how their dog or cat did some cute shit.

Not fucking interested.

I run my towel over my still sweating forehead and ruffle my hair. It’s a little longer than when I was an active SEAL but not long enough so that the dark strands curl.

Annoys the hell out of me when it does that.

“Give him to radio boy here.” I tip my head to Ryder.

“He asked for you. Josh, are you going to take this call or keep Blaze waiting?”

Blaze?

I smirk. “A fan, were you?”

She drops her arms and huffs. “Of course I was. Everyone was. He sold one hundred million records while you were still in diapers.”

Ryder snorts and I shoot him a glare. He holds up his hands, but the smile is still there.

Jesus.

What could a retired—I thought—rock star want me for?

Black Hawke Security, or BHS, is a group of paramilitary experts. We provide services mostly to governments (yes plural) and the rich and famous.

But usually that means a huge name that’s all over TikTok, not some eighties rockstar.

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