Singe (Guardian Protection #1)

“Did you put something in that water?” I slurred to Pete as I weaved my way out onto the balcony of my father’s old office. I hadn’t been up there since Pete had shut the location down, having opted to run everything remotely from New York.

It was freezing, but I was too numb to care. I should have been scared, considering I’d narrowly escaped my brother, Jude wasn’t anywhere in sight, and I now held the strong belief that I had been drugged. But my sluggish mind was a little too slow on processing all the facts to allow my fear to kick in.

“Just a little something to relax you after that horrible run-in with Apollo,” Pete said before taking another sip of the amber liquid he’d been holding against his swelling face since we’d arrived.

I tsked. “You shouldn’t have done that. Jude is going to be piiiissed.”

“I’m not terribly concerned with Jude, Rhion,” he snapped.

I laughed and swayed toward the railing. “You should be. He’ll probably hit cha again. Make the other side of your face match what Apollo did to it.” I made an eek face.

Though, if Pete’s glare was any indication, it wasn’t a good one.

A knock at the door tore his attention off me.

“Oh thank God,” he breathed. “Here. Hold this.” He placed his drink in my hand and rushed through the empty office to the door.

There, a young guy in a bicycle helmet was holding a brown folder.

“Please. Please come in. I just need to grab my wallet and you can be on your way,” Pete said, motioning him inside.

The guy’s gaze jumped to me, and I offered him a friendly smile and a finger wave as a gust of wind hit me on the back, sending me stumbling forward several steps. I caught myself on the door and grinned proudly as I lifted Pete’s drink in his direction. “Look at that. I didn’t spill a drop.”

Pete sighed and looked at the guy. “You’ll have to excuse, Rhion. She’s been drinking since we arrived.”

“No, I haven’t!” I laughed.

Bicycle dude flashed Pete an understanding smile.

Whatever. What was the old saying? If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em. I shrugged and tipped the glass up to my lips, gagging when the whiskey hit my tongue.

Pete and the man—who I would like to note was wearing pants so tight that I assumed he had to have them surgically removed at the end of his messenger shift—both stared at me in disgust.

“Anyway,” Pete said, handing the guy a wad of cash. “Thank you so much for your expedited service.”

When Tight Pants McGee finally left, I offered Pete his glass back and asked, “How much longer until Jude gets here?”

He waved the drink off and scoffed as he began rifling through the papers, haphazardly discarding them to the floor. “Never if I can help it.”

“I told you to stop saying shit about…” I trailed off when a thought breached through the surface of my intoxicated fog. “Wait. Did you tell him we came here instead of the hotel?”

He kept his head down as he started ripping pages in half.

I walked over and snatched a paper from his hand, my tongue so thick that I could barely form the words. “Pete! Did you call him?”

He looked up at me, his face dark and malevolent. It was more than an expression; it was as if his entire aura had changed.

I stumbled back a step, nerves swirling in my stomach.

“I want my phone back,” I rushed out.

He jammed his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “That’s not going to happen.”

“W-what’s going on here?” I stammered as my pulse quickened. My loopy mind finally cottoned on that something was truly wrong.

“Well…” he drawled. “I brought you here after the run-in with your brother, fearful that, if we went back to the hotel, he would follow us. You were a wreck, and while I had my back turned, you swiped my legally prescribed medication.” He revealed a pill bottle from his pocket and shook it in my direction.

My eyes flashed wide as I stumbled back a step.

And then back another because my feet couldn’t keep up with my body’s attempted retreat.

“Then…much like your poor mother, you chased it down with some alcohol. Surely you remember the rest.” He grinned and pointedly looked down to the drink in my hand. “I, of course, had no idea you took the pills. And the bike messenger can attest to the fact that you were drinking.”

My mind was barely keeping up, but as a wave of understanding hit me, I suddenly couldn’t focus on anything else. Very slowly, I repeated, “I want my phone back.”

“Sorry, sweetheart. You left it in the car.” He strolled toward me.

I threw a hand up to stop him. “Bullshit. You left it in the car.”

“That’s not what my driver will say.”

A sick sense of betrayal began to spiral out of control until it finally broke me. Throwing the glass across the room and shattering it against the wall, I darted toward the door. Which, admittedly, wasn’t very fast, seeing as my legs felt as though they had been filled with lead.

He ducked and covered his head to avoid the falling glass, and then an unlikely laugh sprang from his throat as he stepped in front of the door. “Ah, yes. And then you became violent after seeing the lackluster business earnings from last year.” He waved a hand at the papers on the floor. “You always did have your father’s temper. Sandy will attest to that.”

I blinked as my heart came to a screeching halt. “Sandy?”

With a disturbing smile and a more frightening laugh, he said, “Money is a powerful motivator, Rhion.”

“Oh God.” I covered my mouth.

“Oh, sweet, na?ve girl. You seriously thought Sandy cared about you?”

Every disgusting word felt like the tip of a knife dragging over my skin.

He continued. “Now, the good news is your will has been on file since before the fire, so no red flags there.”

I hadn’t had a will before the fire. I’d been twenty-two years old, with nothing but a closet full of clothes, and for the six weeks after my father had died, I had been grieving. A will had been very low on my list of priorities. It wasn’t until after the fire that I made one, and only so Apollo wouldn’t get anything if something happened to me.

“You…you started the fire.”

He laughed and placed his hand over his heart. “Me? No. But I happen to know a fantastic arsonist should you ever need one.” He winked. “So, as you can imagine, Jude Levitt has been a pain in my ass since long before he was trying to get in your pants. But, luckily, it all worked out. Seeing as how you gave me everything anyway.”

I swallowed hard and shook my head with vigor, my vision trailing half a second behind. “I only gave you control,” I choked out.

“You should really read things before you sign them, Rhion. It’s just a good business practice.” With long, malicious strides, he marched toward me. “You didn’t actually think I’d spent my entire life kissing your father’s ass to walk away with nothing? I’ll be damned if I’m giving it back now.”

“Wait! Stop!” I cried.

I kept shuffling backward, my arms outstretched—the only barrier I was able to use to protect myself. My foot hit the threshold to the balcony and I stumbled, but I somehow managed to right myself before hitting the ground. Pete continued to advance on me, and seconds later, pain exploded in my spine as he rammed me into the railing.