Page 31 of Saxon

"Taking care of my friends." I swallow hard. "They're more like my family than anything."

"Yeah, I can tell. That shit is more valuable than anything money can buy. But what money can buy is safety and security. What Graham didn't mention that I happen to know is that his niece’s tour company also employs serious security."

Graham's smile is thin, and dangerous looking. "They'll be closely but discreetly guarded. I doubt they'll even realize they're being protected."

"Perfect. Just make sure Elise gets a king's ransom out of it, yeah?"

"She's not hurting, sir. Her business is very successful." Graham forestalls Saxons' protest. "But I will see to it that her normal fees are tripled." He looks at me, then. "And for your…companion, sir?"

Saxon looks at me for a long, long time. Weighing options. "Dad's name?" He asks me, eventually.

I shake my head. "I don't want him dead, Saxon."

This earns me a bark of laughter. "Jesus, woman. I'm not gonna take care of him like that, shit. I'm gonna set him up with help you don’t have to pay for."

I choke. "He's my responsibility. No."

He gently pinches my chin between my forefinger and thumb. "Wrong. You're the kid, he's the adult. What's his name, sweetheart?"

"That's all you need? A name?"

He nods. "That's it. First, middle, last. I'll handle the rest. Or, Graham will."

"Padraig Sean Connelly." I swallow again, but my throat is dry. "He's at Willow Acres. It's a group halfway house."

"Is it any good?"

"No, it's a shithole, but it's all I can afford."

He nods. "What's his poison?"

"Alcohol. Pills. Meth. Crack. You name it, he's been addicted to it. Latest bout was pills and booze."

"You could leave him in the shithole. Serve him right, from what I’m piecing together."

"Tempting. But…it's complicated." I sigh.

"He paid up there through the month?"

I shake my head, cheeks burning. "No, I…I'm behind. I put him through rehab first, and that cleaned me out. I've got a few commissions coming through soon, but until I can work on them…."

"Let's leave him there for now. Graham, you—" Saxon realizes Graham is already on the phone, handling it.

My eyes sting. "I don't need your money, Saxon. I can take care of myself. And my father."

"Of course you can," he says. "But you don't have to. You're not alone anymore."

The stinging turns to burning. I shake my head and walk away—I don't know where I’m going, and it doesn't matter. My feet take me off the blacktop and into the grass.

Away, just away. Anywhere, just away.

Half-blind with tears I refuse to let fall, I find myself at a fence, eyes blurred. I fight the tears, shaking all over with the effort.

Something warm washes over me, a hot breath smelling of grass and life. A wet nose nudges my hand. I look up, and a pair of deep, dark, wide brown eyes regard me— a horse. Big, mostly white with a brow blaze on his or her nose, and two brown socks.

"Well, hi there," I murmur. I duck and peek—she's a girl. "Hi, girl. You're pretty, huh? I always wanted a horse."

She nuzzles me again, and I pet her nose. Her ears prick and swivel, and she nods at me. Nuzzles me. Whickers gently.