Singe (Guardian Protection #1)

A loud wolf whistle sounded at the front of the room as Leo appeared, his arms filled with folders.

“Where the fuck is Johnson?” he boomed, shaking his head and dropping the stack of files on the end of the table. “Can someone give him a call and tell him to get his ass in here? I don’t have all day.” It was an order, but not a single person reached for their phone.

The new-hire packet had had a list of at least thirty numbers with specific instructions to program them into my phone. Aidan Johnson was one I remembered.

After bringing up my contacts, I pressed send and then called out, “On it.”

Swear to God I heard a round of forks hitting their plates and all eyes turned to me.

“You must be Levitt.” Leo grinned and crossed his thick arms over his chest.

“Yes, sir,” I replied, rising to my full height, my phone still held to my ear.

“Nice to finally meet you, son. Patterson had great things to say about you.”

The drone of an unanswered phone rang in my ear. “Thank you. I’m excited to be here.”

His grin faded as the ringing was no longer only in my ear, but rather, behind me.

Like right fucking behind me.

I didn’t have time to react before my phone was snatched from my hand. I spun, coming face-to-face with a man who looked like he belonged on the inside of a jail cell more than he did leisurely standing in Guardian Protection. His eyes were so dark that I couldn’t see the pupils, and thick, black gauges stretched his ears. Short, dark hair covered his inked skull, those same tattoos running down the left side of his neck, into his collar, and out the sleeve of his black T-shirt, which barely stretched over his barrel chest. The ogre didn’t have me in height, but I didn’t have to look down to know he outweighed me.

If Devon was the typical bodyguard, this guy would have been the black sheep never allowed to leave the security room.

But there he stood, inches from my face, waves of pissed-off energy radiating off him.

“Johnson, I assume,” I stated.

He didn’t move.

I blankly stared at him. “So this is how we’re gonna play it today?”

“Who’s playing, Goldilocks?”

I kept my expression tight. “Right. Because of the hair. Fucking ingenious.”

He shrugged, and his lips split in a cocky grin. “Sit the fuck down.”

“Give me my phone,” I demanded.

He inched closer until our chests bumped. “Sit. The. Fuck. Down.”

“Give. Me. My. Fucking. Phone.”

His smile fell, and he menacingly narrowed his eyes. “You’re gonna need to have this phone surgically removed from your spleen if you don’t shut the fuck up and sit down.”

Seriously? Was this the high school cafeteria?

I maintained my stoic expression and retorted, “I’ll take my chances.”

He chuckled humorlessly. “See, I was starting to like you for a minute there. But, now, you’re pissin’ me off.”

I lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. “Sounds like a personal problem.”

His jaw clenched. “Right. Well, now, it’s your problem too,” he said seconds before lifting his hand to the side and dropping my phone into my coffee cup.

And there was my answer: Yes. Yes, we were in fucking high school.

“Jesus Christ!” Leo boomed.

I gave Johnson no reaction. Refusing to feed the beast, I held his stare without blinking. Dealing with egotistical assholes was a large part of my job description. And, while he wasn’t a client, the moment I’d walked through those doors, I had officially been on the clock. It was an inconvenient and completely unfortunate fact, considering that my fists ached to wipe the smug grin off his face as he sauntered away.

Closing my eyes, I sucked in a deep breath. Ten minutes in and I was already regretting my decision to blindly accept the job. It was bad enough I was homeless, missing Valerie, and running on a week’s worth of nightmare-induced sleepless nights. Now, I had to deal with this bullshit too?

I opened my eyes when Leo called out to no one in particular, “Can someone get Jude a company phone?” He then stabbed a finger at Johnson. “That shit’s coming out of your check.”

Johnson shrugged, not giving the first damn.

“Right… I probably should have mentioned in the welcome packet that Johnson’s a dick before noon,” Leo muttered.

Sitting back down, I mumbled, “Yeah. Thanks for the heads-up.”

“Before noon?” Devon called. “Don’t lie to the man! He’s always a dick.”

The room erupted into laughter.

Johnson’s eyebrows shot up as he grabbed his crotch. “I got one you can suck, Devon.”

Devon leaned back in his chair and casually crossed his legs ankle to knee. “I find myself in need of a toothpick, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Oh God, Aidan,” Sarah groaned. “I’m standing right here.”

“Sorry, babe,” Johnson said, giving her hip a squeeze before moving to the nearly empty buffet to make a plate.

Leo shook his head and ran an exasperated hand through his thick, black hair. “Everyone got that shit out of their system? We gonna pretend to be grown-ass men now so I can get started?”

Johnson sauntered over behind me, used his fork to stab a piece of bacon off my plate, and then propped himself on a shoulder next to the window. “By all means, boss man. Get to it.”

Leo pinned him with a pointed scowl. “As I was saying.” He dropped his gaze to me. “Welcome to Guardian Protection, Jude.”





I. Was. Back.

I’d written nearly thirty thousand words in the last four days. It wasn’t exactly a record for me. I’d once written an entire eighty-thousand-word book in four days. I also hadn’t slept, eaten, or showered, but as far as I was concerned, it was a small price to pay for typing The End.

However, these recent words were more cherished than most. Because they came after an eight-week dry spell. For some, a few weeks off after finishing a book was considered a well-deserved break.

But writing was my job.

How I earned my money.

How I kept my sanity.

Coincidentally, it was also what drove me insane. But that’s neither here nor there.

Writing was who I was.

And, for anyone, losing such a huge piece of themselves would be staggering.

For me, it was agony.

It gave me time to think.

About the future.

And worse—the past.

But, thanks to Margaret’s latest stunt, I’d found myself again. It was worth every single penny of the ten grand I’d sent her on Tuesday.

It was now Friday—the one day a week when I dropped everything and carved out much-needed time for myself. I would force myself to do my hair, put on makeup, pants without an elastic waistband, and a pair of kickass heels, and get the hell out of my apartment. And, this morning, I’d done just that. Well, minus the hair, as I’d scheduled an appointment for later that afternoon.

I was standing at the elevator, juggling a mile-high pile of breakfast pastries, bagels, and several vats of cream cheese when the door to the stairway slammed closed.

I breathed a sigh of relief as his heavy footfalls approached.