Hollywood Double: Hollywood Name Game Book 4 Read online

  Hollywood Double

  Hollywood Name Game Book 4

  Alexa Aston

  Copyright © 2020 Alexa Aston

  All rights reserved

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  ISBN-13: 9798681845386

  ISBN-10: 8681845386

  Edited by: Scott Moreland

  Cover design by: Wicked Smart Designs

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2018675309

  Printed in the United States of America

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  PROLOGUE

  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

  EPILOGUE

  About The Author

  Books In This Series

  Books By This Author

  PROLOGUE

  7 years ago . . .

  Staff Sergeant Mackenzie Randall was pissed.

  Majorly pissed.

  Nothing had gone right on this mission. His squad of ten soldiers had been cut to four within minutes. The squads of the three sergeants under his command also suffered huge casualties. At the last report, they only had eleven men between them, including themselves. Heads would roll once they made it back to base camp.

  If they made it back.

  Mac’s bones told him the enemy was closing in fast.

  “Where are those copters?” he hissed to his radio man, Tom Jenkins.

  “Sixty seconds out, Sarge.”

  He cursed under his breath. He didn’t know if they had six seconds, much less sixty. At least after the brunt of the ambush, he and the surviving members of his squad had been able to drag the fallen back while Jenkins radioed for help. The dead bodies surrounded the living, while two of his four soldiers were wounded and needed immediate attention.

  Mac didn’t have a scratch on him.

  A low moaning caught his ear. Had they forgotten someone? He quickly counted and saw Tubby Parsons was missing. The private had been one of the four survivors. He must’ve been shot on his last trip to gather their comrades and hadn’t made it back.

  Mac began to crawl in the direction of the moans and reached Tubby as two helicopters swept across the sky and began a quick descent.

  “I’ll get you out, buddy. Hang tight.”

  Mac reached the wounded soldier and scooped him up into a fireman carry. He rushed to the helicopter as his men finished loading the dead and wounded. Mac thrust Tubby at a medic hovering in the opening and hollered, “Go!” as he jumped onto the landing skids. As they lifted from the ground, he was knocked into the chopper from behind. His shoulder screamed in agony. Mac knew he’d been hit.

  It didn’t matter. He landed next to Tubby, who was as white as a sheet, his eyes closed. Grabbing the private’s hand, Mac said, “Hold on, Tub. Hold on. You’re going to make it. You’ve got that pretty little wife and new son. They’re counting on you to come home.”

  The soldier didn’t reply. Either he’d passed out or was dead. Disillusionment filled Mac.

  What the hell was he doing here?

  He’d given nine years to the army and couldn’t see that they’d made a dent in this hellhole. Or any of the other ones he’d been sent to.

  Something pressed against him. Pain flared as quickly as his temper. Mac glared over his shoulder.

  “You’re bleeding, Sarge.” The medic quickly cut through a part of Mac’s fatigues. “I’ll patch you up now but let them know there’s a bullet in you when we get back.”

  The aircraft landed a few minutes later and Mac helped load the wounded onto stretchers, including Tubby. His gut told him the soldier had to be dead but he wasn’t a doctor. Maybe one of the sawbones could work a miracle.

  He followed the stretcher Tubby was on when a blond nurse stopped him. Just his type. Petite. Curvy. Blue eyes. Tan.

  “Where are you going, Sergeant?”

  “With my man.” Though he’d loved to stay and chat up the pretty nurse, he had places to go.

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so. You’re bleeding. Badly.”

  “I need to see about—”

  “If you lose any more blood, you won’t be around to see your guy. Come with me. That’s an order, Soldier.”

  She led him to a corner and lifted the soaked bandage from him before cutting away the remainder of his shirt.

  Mac felt a little woozy, either from the bullet or staring into her baby blues. “Oh. I’m supposed to tell you I’ve got a bullet in my shoulder.”

  The nurse snorted. “Thanks for the self-diagnosis.” After a moment examining him, she said, “The doctors are swamped. Some mission went to hell in a handbasket and they’ve got more bodies than they can handle. This isn’t deep. I can dig it out. Or you can wait for one of them.”

  He gave her what he thought was a charming smile. “Be my guest.”

  She cut away what was left of his shirt and worked on him for several minutes. Mac clenched his teeth as she prodded and poked, almost passing out at one point, but determined not to in front of such a looker.

  “It’ll take a few stitches and then I’ll be done. At least with the shoulder.”

  She put the stitches in and then hooked him up to an IV. Within minutes, he began to feel more like himself—except for the screaming pain in his shoulder.

  “Be still. I’ve got shrapnel to dig out now.”

  “What?” He hadn’t even felt that, too juiced from what had happened on the field.

  She worked without speaking, her hands lightly touching his back. Finally, she said, “Done. Have any preferences on pain meds?”

  “None.” He was determined to keep a clear head, especially knowing how rough the debrief would be.

  “You were lucky, Sergeant.”

  “Mac. Mac Randall.” He glanced at her well-endowed chest, seeing the name Rogers, and gave her a smile. “I think I’m the lucky one. Meeting you.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Anything else I can do for you, Soldier?”

  “Yeah. Two things. Tell me your name.”

  Rogers pointed to her shirt.

  “No, your first name.”

  Sighing, she said, “It’s Ellen.”

  “Ellen, we’re having a moment here.”

  She finally smiled. “And the second thing?”

  Mac grinned. “Will you marry me?”

  Ellen burst out laughing.

  It didn’t matter. Mac knew this lady was The One.

  ◆◆◆

  Anticipation rippled through Mac as the Uber driver exited the freeway. Another five minutes and he’d be home for forty-eight hours. He’d wanted to surprise Ellen. He had called her supervisor at the hospital and learned she had today off. The two of them worked it out for a friend of hers to take tomorrow
’s shift. That way, he’d have his wife all to himself the entire two days.

  Mac planned to make the most of it.

  He regretted that he’d let her talk him into re-enlisting after her medical troubles. The bomb that cost Ellen her leg had sent her first to Germany, then stateside, to recover. She’d left the army and now worked as a nurse in a San Diego hospital. The plan was for him to finish up this final tour and join her. At least her encouragement to re-enlist had led to him making Sergeant First Class. Most non-coms had to have at least fifteen years in before making SFC. Mac had done it in just under twelve. Ellen knew it had been a goal of his and told him how proud she was, not of the bump in pay and rank, but of him.

  “It’s up ahead. On the right,” he told the Uber driver, who pulled into the short driveway.

  Mac thanked him and grabbed his duffel, hustling up to the door of the rental house. It wasn’t in the best neighborhood, with peeling paint and a yard that needed mowing. Once he was home for good when he finished out the last nine months of his commitment, they would need to find something better. Maybe closer to Ellen’s hospital.

  With enough room for a kid. Or kids. He grinned, thinking of being a dad.

  He slid his key into the lock, glancing at his watch. It was a quarter to six. She’d be getting up soon. Ellen always rose early, even on her day off. Not today. Mac planned to keep his wife in bed all day. He’d missed her warm curves and bouncing curls.

  Maybe he would let her out of bed for a drive. Take her somewhere nice for dinner. They could cruise around and start looking for somewhere new to live. He also wanted to talk with her about what he might do next. All he’d known was the military, enlisting straight out of high school. At least Ellen had her nursing degree. Mac had no idea what he wanted to do. He was smart but had been an indifferent student. He’d just passed his thirtieth birthday. It was time to put on his big boy pants and figure out his life—and their future.

  Maybe they could get a dog first. Then move up to kids. They hadn’t even talked about starting a family. Mac had assumed Ellen would want one. This might be the time to bring up the subject and negotiated how many kids they’d want running around the house.

  Dropping his bag by the door, he tiptoed through the dark down the hall to the closed door of the bedroom. He heard something, almost like a moan, and grinned. Ellen talked in her sleep sometimes, making all kinds of weird noises.

  He’d give her something to moan about.

  Mac pushed open the door and was confused by what he saw. A bulky shape hovered over Ellen. Thrusting. The moan came again. Except it wasn’t just any moan. It was a cry of ecstasy.

  “Harder. Harder. Faster.”

  No mistaking her voice. That was Ellen in their bed.

  With another man.

  Mac felt for the light switch on the wall and flipped it on. He’d never get that picture out of his head. The broad, tanned back. Ellen’s leg wrapped around it. Her flushed face. The cry of the pair as they climaxed together.

  Then they fell silent as they became aware of him. He saw Ellen’s eyes. Not frightened.

  Satisfied.

  Mac turned and walked out.

  ◆◆◆

  Mac woke, disoriented, then remembered where he was.

  In the bed where his wife had betrayed him. Betrayed them.

  He lay there, hurt washing over him like it was yesterday and not almost a year ago. He was such an idiot. The real reason his wife had wanted him to stay in the army was because she’d begun an affair with a doctor at her hospital. So, Mac did what she wanted. He went back to the only family he knew and stayed there. Angry at the world. Finished out his enlistment.

  He hadn’t responded to her emails or texts for weeks. Didn’t make any calls to her since the thought of hearing her voice only brought fury. Finally, he’d chosen to see what she’d sent as he decided to get the ball rolling for divorce. Unless what she’d sent him were those very papers.

  What he’d read shocked him.

  Ellen had an aggressive form of brain cancer. She’d been diagnosed three days after he’d seen her in bed with her lover. She begged Mac to come home. He hadn’t.

  And she’d died.

  Today was her funeral. He’d returned for it, leaving the details to her bossy sister, Edie. Mac decided he owed it to Ellen for the good times they’d once had. His gut told him it was the right call but, then again, he wasn’t too trusting of his gut these days.

  Mac showered and shaved but he couldn’t eat. He put on his dress uniform because the few civilian clothes he had weren’t funeral appropriate. He found the key to Ellen’s battered Toyota. He’d need to get rid of it. The house rental was good for another two months. He’d finished his deployment and had waffled on re-upping. He didn’t know why. His family was gone. He’d lost both parents and his sister in a car wreck his senior year in high school, which had spurred him to leave Texas behind and enlist two hours after graduation. It puzzled him why he’d hesitated to continue in the military when he had nothing to come back to. Nothing tied him to San Diego. That was Ellen’s stomping grounds.

  He pulled into the funeral home’s parking lot and cursed. Getting out of a gray car was Edie, her louse of a husband, and her parents. Mac opened his car door, deciding he’d be civil and speak. When he saw the murderous look in Edie’s eyes, he knew it had been a mistake to come.

  “You show up now, you son-of-a-bitch?” She marched over to him, shaking her finger in his face. “You left Ellen alone at the time she needed you most. What kind of husband does that? What kind of man are you?”

  Edie slapped him and flounced off, grabbing her mother by the arm and hustling her away. The two men followed and the four entered the funeral home.

  Mac wondered if they knew of Ellen’s affair and the real reason he’d stayed away. He doubted it. Ellen had always been the golden child in her family. No one would believe she would do something like cheat on her husband.

  He entered and was greeted by a somber man in his late forties. Mac told him who he was.

  “I’m sorry for your loss, Mr. Randall. Would you like to come into the chapel and see how everything has been set up?”

  “Sure.”

  The moment he entered, he saw the mass of flowers. The stateside smell of death. It was different in the field. Mac knew the scent of real death. He’d lost too many buddies to IEDs and bullets. He stood in the back and glanced at the slideshow that started up. It opened with pictures of Ellen as a baby. In her swimsuit. Wearing Mickey Mouse ears at Disney. It progressed through her teen years playing basketball and soccer. Graduation. A few shots with people he didn’t recognize. Then nursing school graduation. Her enlistment ceremony. In fatigues.

  The next picture hit him hard. It was Ellen in her wedding dress, standing beside her sister. She hadn’t wanted to spend much money or time on a wedding after their whirlwind romance. He’d teased her that the scar on his shoulder would always remind him of her. Mac wondered if he ever really knew his wife. War heightened emotions. Serving together, they’d grabbed whatever minutes or hours they could until the enemy blew off her leg.

  He blinked and saw a photo of Ellen at the beach that he’d taken on their two-day honeymoon. She had a knock-out figure, her blond hair and sky blue eyes set off by her perpetual tan. Just like he liked his women. Another shot from the honeymoon came up, this time of Ellen sipping a drink, a twinkle in her eye.

  The next slide jolted him. It showed her standing with her prosthetic leg and several medical professionals. Ellen looked determined and confident despite being pale. A group shot came up next, everyone in scrubs. Ellen had her arms around the two guys standing on either side of her. His gut clenched.

  The Asshole stood on her left.

  So, he worked with her. Mac never knew that. Hadn’t wanted to know. Didn’t care who the guy was as long as he never saw him again, naked or otherwise. He hoped The Asshole wouldn’t show up today. He’d hate to start a fist fight at a funeral—bu
t he wouldn’t hesitate to do it.

  The slides started at the beginning again and it hit him. He hadn’t been in a single photograph. As if he’d been wiped clean from Ellen’s life. That was definitely Edie’s doing. Mac turned away in disgust, wondering if he should leave.

  The funeral director touched his shoulder.

  “The family is gathering in the back, Mr. Randall. Follow me.”

  Mac did and the moment he entered the room, conversation ceased. Everyone gave him the once-over and then the cold shoulder, pointedly leaving him out of their conversations. After ten minutes, they were led by another guy in somber attire back into the chapel and the service began. Edie spoke first, her eyes swollen from crying, all passionate about her loving sister and how many lives Ellen touched and how she was the best person on the planet and would be missed by family and friends alike.

  Then The Asshole rose and stepped to the front, stunning Mac. From what he said, it was obvious he was a doctor who’d worked closely with Ellen. He praised her professionalism and spoke of how he valued her friendship. How strong and brave she was, until the very end. How God had called one of His special angels home and that the heavens rejoiced with Ellen’s arrival.

  Doctor Asshole left the podium and had the gall to smile at Mac as he passed. Mac wasn’t about to let this joker have the last word. He might have been screwing Ellen but Mac was the one who’d listened to her. Comforted her when she’d lost patients, some of whom had been friends. Something compelled him to rise and make his way to the microphone. He heard Edie say “No,” but Mac kept on walking.

  Once he arrived, he had nothing planned because he hadn’t thought he’d speak. Mac wouldn’t use this platform to crucify Ellen, though. Instead, he spoke from his heart. He’d always been the type of student who’d chosen doing an oral project over a written paper. He was a natural speaker who charmed everyone. By the time he finished, Mac felt closure for the first time since Ellen’s horrendous betrayal. He knew now he could move on with his life.