Christine Feehan: Dark Guardian (Dark Series - book 9)

“I’m not so certain that’s a good thing,” Russell said, frowning. He couldn’t take his eyes off the child. His heart was in his throat. His own little girl was seven years old, and he would never allow her near the tower his compatriots, Matt Montgomery and Tyler Drake, had constructed in Matt’s backyard. “You know, Matt, it’s possible to force a child to grow up too fast. Jaxon is still a baby.”

Matt laughed. “That ‘baby’ can cook breakfast for her mother and serve it to her in bed

and

change diapers for the little one. She’s been reading since she was three. I mean, really reading. She loves physical challenges. There’s not much on the training course she can’t do. I’ve been teaching her martial arts, and Tyler has been working on survival training with her. She loves it.”

Russell scowled. “I can’t believe you’re encouraging Matt, Tyler. He never listens to anyone but you. That child adores both of you, and neither of you has any sense where she’s concerned.” He manfully refrained from adding that Rebecca was a washout as a mother. “I hope to hell you don’t have her swimming in the ocean.”

“Maybe Russell’s right, Matt.” Tyler sounded a bit worried. “Jaxon’s a little trouper with the heart of a lion, but maybe we push her too much. And I had no idea you were allowing her to cook for Rebecca. That could be dangerous.”

“Someone has to do it.” Matt shrugged his wide shoulders. “Jaxon knows what she’s doing. When I’m not home, she knows very well she’s responsible for Rebecca’s care. And now we have little Mathew Jr. And just for your information, Jaxx is a good swimmer already.”

“Are you listening to yourself, Matt?” Russell demanded. “Jaxon is a child, a five-year-old—a baby. Rebecca! For God’s sake, you’re her mother.” As usual, neither parent responded to anything they didn’t want to hear. Matt treated Rebecca like a porcelain doll. Neither paid much attention to their daughter. Exasperated, Russell appealed to Matt’s best friend. “Tyler, tell them.”

Tyler nodded slowly in agreement. “You shouldn’t put so much pressure on her, Matt. Jaxon is an exceptional child, but she’s still a child.” His eyes were on the small girl waving and smiling. Without another word he got up and began striding toward the tower where the little girl was calling to him persistently.

*****

Jaxon, Seven years old Florida, USA

The screams coming from her mother’s room were horrible to hear. Rebecca was inconsolable. Bernice, Russell Andrews’s wife, had called the doctor to administer tranquilizers. Jaxx put her hands over her ears to try to muffle the terrible sounds of grief. Mathew Jr. had been crying for some time in his room, and it was obvious her mother was not going to go to her son. Jaxon wiped at the steady stream of tears falling from her own eyes, lifted her chin, and went across the hall to her brother’s room.

“Don’t cry, Mattie,” she crooned softly, lovingly. “Don’t worry about a thing. I’m here now. Mommy is very upset about Daddy, but we can get through this if we stick together. You and me. We’ll get Mommy through it, too.”

Uncle Tyler had come to their house with two other officers and informed Rebecca that her husband would never be coming home again. Something had gone terribly wrong on their last mission. Rebecca had not stopped screaming since.

Jaxon, Eight years old

“How is she today, honey?” Tyler asked softly, stooping to kiss Jaxon on the cheek. He laid a bouquet of flowers down on the table and turned his attention to the little girl he had loved since the day she was born.

“She isn’t having a very good day,” Jaxon admitted reluctantly. She always told “Uncle Tyler” the truth about her mother, but no one else, not even “Uncle Russell.”

“I think she took too many of those pills again. She won’t get out of bed, and when I try to tell her things about Mathew, she just stares at me. He’s finally stopped needing diapers, and I’m so proud of him, but she won’t say anything at all to him. If she does pick him up, she squeezes him so hard, he cries.”

“I have something to ask you, Jaxx,” Uncle Tyler said. “It’s important you tell me the truth. Your mom is sick most of the time, and you have to take care of Mathew, manage the house, and go to school. I was thinking maybe I should move in and help out a little.”

Jaxon’s eyes lit up. “Move in with us? How?”

“I could marry your mother and be your father. Not like Matt, of course, but as your stepfather. I think it would help your mother, and I’d sure like to be here for you and little Mathew. But only if you want me, honey. Otherwise, I won’t even talk to Rebecca about it.”

Jaxon smiled at him. “That’s why you brought the flowers, isn’t it? Do you think she’ll really do it? Is there a chance?”

“I think I can persuade her. The only time you get a break around here is when I have you on our training course. You’re getting to be quite a marksman, too.”

“Marks

person,

Uncle Tyler,” Jaxon corrected with a sudden teasing grin. “And the other night in karate class I kicked Don Jacobson’s butt.” The only time she found herself laughing anymore was when Uncle Tyler took her off to the Special Forces training area and they played soldier. Female or not, Jaxon was becoming someone to contend with, and it made her proud.

*****

Jaxon, Thirteen years old

The book was a mystery and well suited to the stormy night. Tree branches were scratching the window, and rain drummed heavily on the roof. The first time she heard the noise, Jaxon thought it was her imagination, just because the book was so scary. Then she stiffened, and her heart began to pound. He was doing it again. She knew it. As quietly as possible, she crept out of bed and opened her door.

The sounds coming from her mother’s bedroom were muffled, but she heard them all the same. Her mother was weeping, pleading. And there was the distinctive sound Jaxon knew so well. She had been in karate classes as long as she could remember. She knew what it sounded like when someone got punched. She ran along the hall to her brother’s room to check on him first. She was thankful he was sound asleep. When Tyler was like this, she hid Mathew from him. He seemed to hate Mathew at times. His eyes grew cold and ugly when they rested on the little boy, especially if Mathew happened to be crying. Tyler didn’t like it when anyone cried, and Mathew was little enough to cry over almost every tiny scratch or imagined hurt. Or every time Tyler glared at him.

Taking a deep breath, Jaxon went to stand just outside her mother’s bedroom. She found it so hard to believe that Tyler could be the way he was with her mother and Mathew. She loved Tyler. She had always loved him. He spent hours training Jaxon like a soldier, and everything in her responded to the physical training. She loved the courses he set up to challenge her. She could climb nearly impassable cliffs and slither through minuscule tunnels in record time. She was in her element out on the range, firing weapons and fighting hand to hand. Jaxon could even track Tyler now, a feat most of those in his unit were unable to perform. She was especially proud of that. Tyler always seemed pleased with her and very warm and loving toward her. She had believed Tyler loved her family with the same fierce, protective loyalty she did. Now she was confused, wishing her mother was someone she could talk with, reason things out with. Jaxon was coming to realize that her stepfather’s easy charm hid his constant need to control his world and those in it. Rebecca and Mathew didn’t meet his standards of what they should be, and he made them pay dearly for it.