Guardian (3 page)

A
lex was
out of the auto shop in time to get to the office for around two o’clock, and once Val curled up by his seat for her afternoon nap, he dinked around on his laptop while his mind wandered.

The trouble was, it kept wandering right back to Titus. Ty’s bulging biceps, his meaty calves, the tight ass and even tighter t-shirt… But it was more than just the coiled muscles and sweat-sheened skin. The man was smart and thoughtful. He cared for his niece like she was his own daughter. And those tattoos swept down his arms like the feathers of an angel. When the t-shirt was damp enough, Alex could see more ink under it, almost covering his back entirely, and sweeping across his bulging pecs. He couldn’t quite work out what the tattoo was, but it was obvious the whole thing was one single design, and that kind of work took forethought and dedication.

The tattoo
meant
something to Ty. It meant so much that he’d planned it out, gone to see an artist several times, lived through the pain and inconvenience. He’d chosen it and followed through. It wasn’t some drunk soldier prank thing.

Someone cleared their throat nearby, and Alex jerked upright in his chair. “Huh?”

Caroline chuckled and sat in a chair facing his desk. She was a lovely middle-aged lady who lived with her two cats, but she did seem overly keen on setting Alex up with every new woman who walked into the office. She leaned forward and stage-whispered, “Who is it?”

“I- what?” He nudged his glasses up his nose. “Who’s who?”

“Don’t you
who’s who
me, young man. I know that look.” She pointed at him across the desk. “You’ve met someone.”

Alex’s lips curled up against his will and he wiggled his chair from side to side as he reclined in it. “It’s just a passing thing. Nobody I’ll see again.”

Unless he came up with other car problems. The Corolla was old, a bit run-down. The previous owner hadn’t taken especially good care of it, and neither had Alex. It was just a runaround, something cheap. He’d thought about upgrading to a car with lower emissions, maybe even electric, but realistically those vehicles just shed their environmental damage elsewhere. During the manufacturing process, during the shipping to the showroom, and later in their lives once batteries had to be disposed of. Then he’d be scrapping a perfectly viable vehicle just to buy a new one, which had to be factored in as well.

No, better to run it until it had nothing left to give, which meant he might find himself in need of a hot, sweaty, filthy, powerful auto mechanic sometime soon. In fact, if he hit up the Internet, he might find some surreptitious ways to disable his car and force a trip to the shop. Yeah, that seemed like a plan.

Would Ty be suspicious at seeing him again so soon? Maybe not. Only if Alex got weird about it and began to paw at him like a dog in heat.

Of course, it’d be a bit creepy of him to sabotage his own car just to see some guy who Alex was 99 percent sure was straight as they came. No, scratch that; a
lot
creepy.

He sighed wistfully. If the Corolla broke down again, then sure. But faking it wasn’t the way forward.

He could go there to ask Ty out for a drink, though. Be honest about his intentions. It might earn him scorn and a few choice slurs, but it might score him an actual date.

Or a huge fist to the face.

No, Ty wouldn’t hit him, would he? He seemed like a good, solid kind of guy. The sort of man you could rely on. And men
had
relied on him if he’d been a soldier. It didn’t matter what military service he’d performed, the fact was that other people had depended on him, and he in turn knew how to depend on others. That took an astounding level of trust. It made Ty dependable. And if Ty had been discharged on misconduct or other personality issues, would he be allowed to raise his niece? Surely the system would have swallowed Phoebe whole if her parents weren’t around and Titus wasn’t suitable?

Might be best to ask him from across the workshop though, to be on the safe side.

Caroline gasped. “You did not!”

Alex blinked rapidly and sat upright. He pushed his glasses up his nose. He hadn’t said anything, had he? No, he was sure he hadn’t. “Um. Didn’t what?”

“Did you have a one-night stand?” She leaned forward, eyes bright with the anticipation of scandal.

“Oh my God, no!” His pulse raced, and he squirmed in his seat.

A one night stand with Titus. That might be a compromise. If it meant that Alex got to feel that strength wrap around him, take control of him, push inside him—

He hiccupped.

No, that wasn’t what he wanted. It was a glorious fantasy, but it was one he’d fallen prey to time and again. Whatever part of him thought that these rugged, tattooed men would ever turn into serious boyfriend material had to be broken. It kept on like a scratched record, jumping back to the start every time he laid eyes on someone like Ty. It was a preference that did him no favors at all, yet he didn’t seem able to break free of it, and every time his heart was broken he went back into the same old holding pattern until another Herculean god walked into his life.

Ty had to have women at his feet wherever he went, anyway. What the hell would he want with Alex even if he were remotely curious? What did
any
of these men want with Alex? He was six feet tall, which to Ty meant a good view of the top of Alex’s head. He looked like a strong gust of wind would blow him over. He was nearsighted and knew altogether far too much about the history of space travel to be a stimulating conversationalist, and his other specialist subject was the kind of thing nobody ever wanted to know about.

Alex didn’t actually know that many attorneys who were in successful, happy relationships.

“Alex? Are you even listening to me?”

“Er.” He pulled his glasses off and rubbed his face. A stray dog hair fell from his hair and into his lap. How long had that been up there? Val somehow managed to project her fur for at least two meters in all directions, every day of the year. It got worse when she was changing coats, but even now the stuff was all over the place. He picked at it and dropped it onto the carpet before he popped his glasses back on. “Sorry. I kinda drifted off there.”

“She got you good, huh?” Caroline laughed.

Alex blinked while his brain span and tried to connect the dots. What were they talking about?

Sex
.

Right
.

He put on his best fake smile. He loathed lying, but he wasn’t out to his colleagues and this wasn’t the way he wanted it to happen. “I’ve been a bit wrapped up, yeah,” he said, keeping it as neutral as he could.

“Well? How did you meet?”

Alex sighed. “I don’t really want to go into it, you know? We didn’t sleep together, nothing like that, and it was just a chance meeting. We’re never going to see each other again. I’m just—” He waved his hands through the air.

“Ahh.” Caroline took on a sympathetic expression and nodded. “Strangers on a train, right?”

“Er, well, no.” He blinked. “
Strangers on a Train
was about people who swap murder victims so that they each had an alibi for the person they
wanted
to kill.”

“Oh.” She rolled her shoulders while she thought. “Ships that pass in the night?” she offered.

“Yeah. That’s the one you want.” Alex gave her a tight smile. “Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing, Only a signal shown and a distant voice in the darkness; So on the ocean of life we pass and speak one another, Only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence.”

Caroline’s gaze fell to the desk. “That’s so sad.”

“Longfellow,” Alex explained.

She looked up at him, quizzical.

“Henry Wadsworth Longfellow?
Tales of a Wayside Inn
?”

“Oh, is that the poet? ‘Paul Revere’s Ride’?”

Alex smiled and raised his chin. “That’s the one.”

“I
loved
that in school! Oh, it was so long ago, I thought I’d forgotten it!” Then she narrowed her eyes and wagged a finger at him. “Anyway, you can’t distract me, Alexander Wilson. It’s high time you found a nice young woman and settled down.”

“Sure thing, mom.” He grinned at her.

“Humph.” She put her hands on the arms of her chair and pushed to her feet.

“Was there something not related to my love life that you came in for?” he prompted her.

“Oh, mercy!” Her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed. “You’ll have me forget my own head next! Yes, we need to talk about your caseload.”

“Sure.” He gestured magnanimously to the chair she’d just vacated. “Want to take a seat?”

Caroline sat and began to discuss the current status of each of Alex’s clients, and he fell into an easy routine of checking his calendar, updating her, and filling her in on whether or not he would require assistance from her administrative team over the next week.

By the time she left, he’d all but talked himself out of stopping by and asking Ty out right away. Maybe next week so he didn’t seem like he was coming on too strong. And in the meantime, Ty had his card, Alex had made sure of that. So if Ty weren’t as straight as he seemed maybe he’d be the one to make the call. Alex could wait a few days and let the big man make his choice.

Alex sighed and shook his head. A boy could dream, sure, but he also had work to do, and he’d wasted enough time on this fairytale.

T
y rolled
over in bed and fumbled for his phone. The bright light it gave off made him squint his eyes shut the moment he opened them, and he felt around for it while he stretched in what felt like a full-bodied yawn.

His fingers found the offender as the alarm grew in volume, and he managed to swipe his thumb over it to silence the thing. Still, he sat bolt upright after that.

He was no stranger to early mornings. He’d had them drilled into him all the way through training until, once deployed, they were second nature. These days he was still up with the birds, but for a different reason. He had to get Phoebe ready for school, make her eat her breakfast, help tie her shoelaces, and make sure she reached the bus stop on time all before he made his way to the shop.

Weekends weren’t for sleeping in, either. He liked to keep Phoebe to a routine so that she didn’t grow used to the habit of slacking off. That’d come later, when she was a teen, so the longer he could put it off the better.

Today was packed. They’d go for their walk down to the park, and Phoebe would feed the ducks and geese, then they’d jog to the Unisphere and back. After that, Phoebe could watch some Saturday-morning TV and then they had a light lunch. At two p.m. they had her Tae Kwon Do class, and after that dinner was usually Phoebe’s choice.

He swung his legs out of bed to get himself moving, and he forced his eyes open again. He turned on the bedside lamp, rubbed his eyes, then took a deep breath.

“Up. Get moving,” he ordered himself.

Ty made it out of bed and considered that the first of the day’s small victories.

T
he Tae Kwon Do
dojang wasn’t too far from Ty’s apartment, so he and Phoebe jogged there side by side. When there were other pedestrians on the sidewalk Phoebe went ahead of him, but then they’d be side by side once the obstacle was passed.

She was a good kid. The TKD classes had given her some serious self-confidence boosts after the first few lessons, and she’d stuck with them ever since. Her instructors didn’t limit themselves to the martial training of their kids, either. The children earned cards for respectful behavior, good school grades, as well as their progress at TKD, and the instructors weren’t rushing the children into belt grading either. Phoebe was already on her purple belt, but she’d made it there because she worked hard, paid attention, and practiced on her own several evenings a week.

The dojo had screens set up so that waiting parents could watch the kids practice without distracting them from the sides of the room, and once Phoebe changed into her
dobok
and filed into the training hall, Ty took up space in the waiting room and watched his nearest screen.

It was good to see her flourish like this. It had been hard for her after Melanie died. Phoebe wasn’t in the car when it happened, thankfully, but she had been at a playdate. Her mom should only have been gone an hour, a quick trip to the grocery store to do the week’s shopping.

Melanie never made it home, and Phoebe was in danger of getting whisked off to an orphanage. Of course Uncle Ty had stepped up. God knew the kid’s own father wouldn’t do a damn thing. Hell, Melanie hadn’t ever seen a cent in child support from the asshole, let alone his face since she’d told him she was pregnant.

Ty was home, he’d just started his workshop. He needed a second mouth to feed like a hole in the head, but no way was he going to let his sister’s daughter get swallowed by the system.

And now here she was, a confident little girl, able to talk to adults, to defend herself if she needed to, and melt anyone’s heart. She was gonna do okay, he knew it.

Other parents were present, but none of them ever spoke to Ty other than in passing. They didn’t want to get to know him, couldn’t get past his size and the ink down his arms. That was their right, of course. He wasn’t too bothered by it. What would he talk to them about? He didn’t sit on the couch watching sports. He didn’t get drunk on a Saturday night. He didn’t watch the ponies or whatever else Phoebe entertained herself with in her limited TV hours.

He knew how to read a circuit board. He could ascertain the basic function of any electronic or electrical device placed in front of him. He knew how to figure out which part of an IED would trigger the detonation. He could field strip an M4 assault rifle in sixty-two seconds. He knew what it was like to watch your best friend die.

None of that was suitable conversation material for the parents in this room.

He was an island, but an island with one simple job to do. He would get Phoebe to adulthood safely, securely, and from there on out he’d be the family she could call on whenever she needed anything.

Ty sat patiently through the entire class. Other parents shuffled around, chatted about TV shows, played games on their phones, or left altogether to return later. Not him. He sat and paid attention to Phoebe’s form, her behavior, the way she interacted with the other kids and with her instructors. He saw the glow of pride on her face when her instructor handed her colored cards to represent the different kinds of progress she showed. Something as simple as pieces of card, yet it gave her such a sense of purpose, and Ty knew she liked to count them all up every Saturday evening after dinner.

He scooped up her lilac-colored backpack as the kids all filtered out to go get changed. It was a tiny thing in his massive hand, with some multicolored ponies printed all over it, but nobody dared so much as smile at him for it.

Parents who had gone elsewhere for the duration of the lesson began to filter back into the building as Ty went out to wait for Phoebe. He looked them over to pass the time, and not a single one of them returned his scrutiny.

His gaze snapped back to a man who made the hairs rise on the back of his neck, and Ty shifted his weight slowly. He wasn’t sure he recognized the guy, but that wasn’t what had triggered his alarm bells. No, it was something else. Something which would have made him ready his weapon in Afghanistan.

It was the way the other man moved. He was jumpy, and his head snapped around like he’d never been here before. He fidgeted, one hand constantly disappearing into his pants pocket then emerging moments later. Ty assessed whether there could be a weapon hidden in there, but the clothes seemed to fall naturally, and they were too thin to hide anything bigger than a Walther P99. Still, even such a small 9 mm was a lethal weapon.

Ty took a couple of sidesteps toward him. Just in case. He couldn’t get too close or the other man would spot him, but he could get in range for a tackle if need be.

The guy was pasty, with dark circles under his eyes. His hair was slicked back with something which made it look so dark it was almost black. He wore a suit that didn’t fit him exactly right, and he didn’t have a tie to go with it. If it hadn’t been for the behavior Ty wouldn’t have picked him out from a crowd.

He heard the doors from the changing rooms open, and the sound of adults and children moving to greet each other echoed around the hallway. Ty kept his eyes on the man who didn’t belong here.

His pulse spiked as the other man’s hand came out of his pocket again, but the hand was empty. It raised into the air and waved.

“Phoebe! Hey, Phoebe!”

Ty raised his chin. Phoebe would’ve mentioned if there was another girl in her class with the same name, right? Wasn’t that the kind of thing kids found exciting?

He couldn’t help but look toward the throng of children. They were all ages from five up to late teens, all bearing their
dobok
either in their arms or in a bag. Ty preferred Phoebe to leave her bag with him so that nothing got left behind, so she carried her
dobok
neatly folded with the purple stripe of her belt coiled on top. Between belt and uniform were tucked the cards her instructor had given her, and she looked toward the man shouting her name, then around her in confusion.

No. No other kids called Phoebe.

Ty stepped in closer and laid a hand on the smaller man’s shoulder. “Hey there,” he rumbled. Not enough volume to cause a stir, just enough bass to imply a threat. “You looking for someone, sir?”

Ty’s target turned, and then looked up. He’d been all ready to say something nasty if the sneer on his face was anything to go by, but then the words hadn’t come, and as he craned his neck and finally met Ty’s gaze his features had shifted to defensive. “Just my daughter,” he squeaked.

Titus considered that, then said, “There’s only one Phoebe in this class.”

“Then she’s the one.” He swallowed and looked away. “Phoebe? C’mere, baby! It’s Daddy!”

Phoebe came to a stop in a widening circle as parents ushered children hurriedly toward the exit. Her eyes flitted over the stranger, then met Titus’s own, and her eyebrows raised. “Uncle Ty?” Her voice wavered faintly.

“Ty?” The stranger coiled back on Ty and stared up at him. “
You’re
Titus? Mel’s jarhead brother?”

“Mm.” Ty shook his head. “No, sir. Not Marine Corps.” He took a while to evaluate the man from tip to toe and——more importantly——apply the weight of his gaze to him. “So you’re the boy who didn’t wait around, huh? How’d that work out for you? You doing okay?”

“Look, I don’t want any trouble. I’ve just come for my little girl, then I’ll be out of your way.”

Ty suppressed his immediate surprise and maintained a neutral expression. If this
was
Kyle Montgomery, the ratbag who’d gotten Melanie pregnant then ditched her the moment he found out about it, he had a goddamn nerve appearing out of nowhere like this. He also had to be seriously unbalanced if he thought he could just walk in out of nowhere and take a child away without anyone’s permission, whether he was the biological father or not.

Unbalanced, or high as a kite.

Montgomery didn’t show any sign of being on any illegal substance, but not everything had an obvious outward indicator. Either way, Ty wasn’t about to let some guy who had ditched his sister nine years ago and not even shown up after Mel had died to take care of Phoebe walk away with her now.

He had to handle this quickly and quietly, too. He didn’t want this to become one of those horrible childhood memories that would stick with Phoebe for the rest of her life. That wasn’t right. Hell, it wasn’t right for Montgomery to do this to her, to appear out of nowhere and confront her like this. If he’d suddenly decided he gave a shit, he should have gone about this the right way.

Ty leaned in enough to transform standing into looming. “Not going to happen.”

“But she—”

“Phoebe is not leaving here with you. You could be anybody. I’m her guardian. That means I protect her. You understand?”

There was a flash of ugliness in Montgomery’s eyes, and a sneer reached his lips. A twitch of his cheek betrayed his fear, though, and he swallowed down whatever words he might otherwise have spat out. Instead he turned his back on Ty and addressed Phoebe. “Don’t you wanna come with me, baby? I’m your daddy!”

Phoebe’s face was a mask, but her eyes were wide, and she circled around to reach for Ty’s hand. Her tiny fingers slid around his and gripped tight. “I don’t go with strangers,” she said.

“I’m not—”

“The lady said no,” Ty growled. “This conversation is over.”

Montgomery stumbled away a few steps before he regained some composure and stopped. “This isn’t over!” He puffed out his chest and spoke with the confidence of distance. “It’s not over by a long shot. I want my little girl, Edwards!”

“There’s a right way to go about that, sir.” Ty raised his chin and stared down at Montgomery. “And this isn’t it.”

For a second there, Ty thought Montgomery would try to grab Phoebe and haul her away, but the look of desperation which had entered Kyle’s eyes left quickly, and he settled into a sneer. “Fine. You want to fight over this, Edwards? Then you just got yourself a fight. And you’re gonna lose, because I’m her goddamn
father
!”

“Mind your language, if you don’t mind, sir.”

Montgomery stared at him, his dark eyes bulging with fury, but he jabbed his finger at Phoebe. “You’re coming with me, kid. Just you wait. Daddy’s gonna take good care of you.”

Phoebe’s grip on Ty’s fingers grew tighter.

“You’re leaving now,” Ty said, like he was reminding Montgomery of a decision he’d already made.

“Yeah.” Montgomery spat on the scuffed floor, then stalked to the exit. “See you in court, asshole.”

Ty didn’t deign the posturing with a response, and once they were alone in the hallway he dropped into a crouch and offered Phoebe her backpack. “Okay then. Put your
dobok
in here, sweetie.”

Phoebe’s hands trembled as she slid her uniform into the bag, and Ty had to catch one of the yellow cards before it fell to the floor.

“It’s a shock. Just remember we’ve got no proof he’s who he says he is, right?” He gazed up at her. “And even if he is, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

Her eyes searched his face as her breathing quickened. “But what if he tries to take me away?”

“He can try all he wants. It ain’t gonna happen. Now, how about you show me your cards and tell me what each one was for, huh? Then we can talk a bit more about other stuff when we get home?” It was a technique soldiers used time and again; focus on something good so you had time to calm down from the bad, then you could look at the bad more critically. If Ty could get Phoebe down from what had to be a terrifying encounter, they’d be able to discuss it later, in a safer environment than a public space.

Phoebe nodded numbly and pulled her cards out, then showed him each one in turn as they began the walk home.

He listened and commented on each one, but his mind was only half on the conversation.

The other half of his mind had come to realize that he and Phoebe were going to need an attorney. Fast.