Singe (Guardian Protection #1)

My smile fell and I switched the phone to my other ear as I rolled to my side. Propping my elbow on the bed, I supported my head in my hand. “You know I’d help if I could.”

Her voice softened, but her words might as well have been razor blades. “I’m not sure you would anymore. It feels a lot like you’ve forgotten about your family. But, unlike you, Rhion, I don’t have the ability to turn my back on her.”

My whole body jerked. “Katie—”

“Look, I have to go. We’ll talk soon.”

I didn’t get a goodbye before she hung up.

“Shit,” I groaned, my whole body sagging in defeat.

Had I turned my back on Margaret? The answer was unequivocally yes. But I never would have done it to Katie. I’d sent her over five grand after I’d finished my last book.

And the book before that.

And the book before that.

But I couldn’t do it forever. At some point, Margaret had to pull up her big-girl panties and stop relying on me for everything. But maybe all I’d done was transfer that stress and responsibility to Katie.

She was right. She couldn’t walk away. Despite the fact that her mother was a self-absorbed bitch, she was still her mother. I didn’t remember much about my mom, but even if my father had become a raging lunatic, there was not one thing I wouldn’t have done for him.

Groaning to myself, I plucked my phone off the bed and hit number one on my favorites list.

“Peter Higgins’s office,” she answered.

A comfortable warmth wash over me at the sound of his name. “Hey, Sandy. It’s Rhion. Pete around?”

“Oh, hey, baby. He’s in with a client. Anything I can help you with?”

I sat up, twisted my blond hair over one shoulder, and inspected the ends. Absently, I replied, “Any chance you can wire Margaret ten thousand dollars?”

“Crap,” she breathed. “I thought we were done with that.”

“Yeah, I did too. But Katie called, and…” I trailed off. She knew the rest.

Sandy Morris had been my father’s secretary for over twenty years. I guessed, if I really thought about it, she was the closest thing to a mother figure I had left.

She now worked for my father’s former assistant, Pete. My dad and Pete had been incredibly tight. And, after Dad had passed away, he’d often served as yet another makeshift family member for me. His role: uncle. And the best damn uncle a girl could have.

Pete’s loyalty hadn’t ended with my father. He’d been with me through thick and thin. Refusing to let go, even when I wanted to. He’d taken my father’s companies over a few years earlier. And, in that time, he’d advanced them to a whole new level. I might have provided him with the bricks by turning the family reigns over to him, but he’d more than paved his own path.

“Hang on, Rhion. Let me grab Pete,” Sandy said, placing me on hold.

I hadn’t made it through one song of the waiting music before I heard his voice across the line.

“What’s up, kiddo?”

I sat up straight and pulled my legs under me to sit cross-legged. “I need money.”

“Writer’s block not budging?” he asked. I imagined his crooked grin as he raked his fingers through his perfectly styled salt-and-pepper hair.

“No, it hasn’t budged. But the money’s not for me.”

His gentle voice dropped to a warning. “Rhion.”

“Please, Pete. I don’t know what’s going on. But I do know that Katie’s having a hell of a time dealing with her right now.”

“And what I know is that she’s playing you.”

I knew that too. “Maybe. But ten grand could really get her off Katie’s back for a while. And then maybe I could use that time to talk some sense into Katie.”

“I don’t want you anywhere near her,” he ordered.

I glowered at him through the phone. “I lived with Ursula for three years. I think I can handle a phone call to see if I can remove her slimy tentacles from her daughter.”

“Jesus Christ, Rhion. I know you don’t see it, but I swear to you Katie is equally as toxic as Margaret. There is no helping either one of them. My concern is they’ll get their tentacles into you.”

I should have been paying attention, but as I stared off into the distance, an idea struck me. A really fucking good idea too. The likes of one I hadn’t had in months.

“Maybe I could recreate old fairytales and make the villains the heroines. Imagine if Maleficent falls for the handsome prince.” I suddenly jumped off the bed, inspiration firing through my veins like a surge of adrenaline. “Oh my God, Pete! It could be a series where I redeem the unredeemable. Where the roles of good and evil are reversed. I’ll show the good and decent parts of the villains and the broken and dark parts of the princes.” I wedged the phone between my head and my shoulder and snatched my computer off my nightstand. After prying it open, I typed a million miles a minute before the idea had the chance to escape me.

Pete chuckled on the other end of the line, but he knew the drill and waited for me to finish typing.

“So, what do you think?” I asked excitedly.

“Is there going to be sex in these?”

“Of course. Who writes romance without a little sexy time?”

His voice was teasing as he feigned frustration. “Just once, I wish you’d write something I could read.”

I laughed. “What’s wrong, Pete? Not into the kinky stuff?”

He groaned. “Not when I consider the woman writing it a daughter.”

The feeling was mutual, and my heart swelled in my chest.

“Rhion, if you want ten grand, it’s on its way. But I don’t want to know what you do with it or, more specifically, who you give it to. I’ll never tell you no, but that doesn’t mean I’ll give up trying to keep you from falling prey to the Spencers’ games. There’s a reason your father divorced Margaret. Please remember that.”

“I know. But there was also a reason he married her and took care of her for those years before we lost him.”

He sighed in defeat. “You always have had a bleeding heart.”

He wasn’t wrong.

“Thank you,” I said.

“Thank me by coming to visit. And bring Johnson.”

Now, that made me roll my eyes. “Johnson would rather jump off my balcony than fly to New York and be forced to go to dinner with you.”

“Think about it, okay? I owe the man a scotch—or, more likely, a distillery.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” I lied.

“See what you can do about writing a wholesome book too.”

I giggled. “Well, the good news is that, now that I’ve had this brilliant redemption idea, I won’t have to write that stepbrother male/male romance Brianna suggested this morning.”

He began coughing loudly. “Jesus, Rhion. I’m an old man. You can’t say stuff like that to me.”

I attempted to suppress a laugh but failed as I offered him a halfhearted, “Sorry.”

“You always did enjoy torturing me.” He stated it seriously, but I could hear the smile in his voice.

God, I missed him.

I squeezed the phone tight as if he could feel it. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. I’m getting another tattoo today.”

“Where? You can’t possibly have more than three inches of blank skin left.”

“I’ll surprise you with a picture when I’m done.”

“I’ll be waiting on pins and needles,” he deadpanned. “Okay, kiddo. I need to go. Love you, and stay safe.”