Enguard

By Millie Stardust

Bill Peters was a world-renowned guard in a community who train all their lives to protect vulnerable figures in society. When he dies, he leaves his 13-year-old daughter May and her mother, Ann, with targets on their backs. When it is made clear to both women that they aren’t safe if they are together, precautions are taken.

Five years on, a newly 18-year-old May is sunning herself at her grandparents’ house in Cornwall, having recently been expelled from the high-security training academy that had been her home. The beautiful Tristan Knight sits in silent shock as his mentor, Bryan Malus, describes the events that led to May’s expulsion, assigning her as Tristan’s first client after his graduation. Tristan begrudgingly goes to Cornwall to guard May, whom he hasn’t seen in five years, and sparks fly.

When the duo returns from town, their bickering is cut short as they take in the sight of the man lying dead on the front porch. Tristan and May try to outrun the men chasing them while simultaneously trying to decipher the message Bill Peters left for only his daughter to find. As Tristan and May grow impossibly closer, secrets are revealed, and trust is put to the ultimate test.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Oct 31, 2022
• ISBN: 9781398476417

Millie Stardust

My first thankyou is to my dad, the person who created my love of reading by sitting with me every night, reading me stories about Wishing Chairs and Fairies and Princesses and Pirates. He was the first person to bring the stories to life for me.

Book preview

Enguard

Millie Stardust

Austin Macauley Publishers

Enguard

About the Author

Dedication

Copyright Information ©

Acknowledgement

Preface

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Epilogue

About the Author

My first thankyou is to my dad, the person who created my love of reading by sitting with me every night, reading me stories about Wishing Chairs and Fairies and Princesses and Pirates. He was the first person to bring the stories to life for me.

Dedication

To my family, I love you to the moon and back.

Copyright Information ©

Millie Stardust 2022

The right of Millie Stardust to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781398476400 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781398476417 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published 2022

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd®

1 Canada Square

Canary Wharf

London

E14 5AA

Acknowledgement

My first thankyou is to my dad, the person who created my love of reading by sitting with me every night, reading me stories about Wishing Chairs and Fairies and Princesses and Pirates. He was the first person to bring the stories to life for me.

I’d also like to thank all the amazing and inspiring people who surrounded me as I’ve grown up. From my teachers to my honorary family members, to my Swansea lot, as well as my incredible friends; not only did you fill my life with love and laughter through times where it seemed near impossible for me to find it, but in writing this story, I realised that having all of you in my life has taught me that I will never be alone. I’m so grateful to all of you.

My final thank you is to the woman who inspires me daily, whom I’ve always wanted to grow up to be. I’m so proud to be your daughter and am continuously awed by what you are capable of. You made sure that the darkness that comes with life sometimes didn’t stamp out my light. I couldn’t have done this without you. I love you to the moon and back.

Preface

As May Peters looked at the two blue eyes staring back at her, she came to the conclusion that one definitely looked wider than the other. She squinted and applied another lashing of mascara to her left eye, the troublesome eye whose lashes were always less beautiful than the right. She continued to stare, knowing that no amount of staring was going to fix the lash problem. She also knew that she was using makeup appliance as a reason to stay in her room. She looked about the bedroom that she had lived in for the past six months. Sure, it was small and had two beds that filled it up – she had turned the surplus one into a makeshift bookshelf. Sure, the room was old fashioned with the tiniest window she had ever seen, but in the past six months it had come to feel like home. No, no sappiness. She scolded herself, turning back to the mirror.

May didn’t really understand why she was nervous. She had already moved from her childhood home six months ago. Already left the only home she’d ever known and, well, she wasn’t moving far. She also didn’t understand why she felt the need to dress up and wear makeup. The way she was acting you’d think she’d never seen the house before, when she had slept there last night. Still, she’d felt the need to straighten her hair – it looked blonder when it was straight – and put makeup on.

She took a step back and looked in the mirror. She had changed a lot over the past two years. Emotionally and physically. When her dad had died a lot of things changed at once. Now she laughed at jokes she didn’t find funny, listened to her friends and their everyday worries, and would pretend to completely understand because, apparently, any normal girl her age would. So, she tried, and, in the end, no one seemed to notice that she was empty; her advice appearing to have the desired effect. She had cut her hair to just below the shoulder. That people had noticed. It had nearly grown back now.

She missed a lot about her dad, but the saddest part was that, in losing him, she’d lost her best friend. He’d do anything for her. Note, that this is meant in a literal sense, as her father would always try to do anything he could to help, including giving her all the answers to her year five homework. He had always had her back, always sided with her in any petty arguments she got into with her school friends. He would claim that the other child involved was an evil cockroach if it would make her feel better.

The memory made May smile as she looked at her appearance in the mirror. People said that she was the spitting image of her father, and, though she couldn’t see it, she loved hearing people say it. Over time it had come to give her a sense of comfort knowing that he would always live on in her.

Ann and Bill Peters had one of the strongest and greatest love stories ever told. That is, it certainly seemed that way to May when her father told the story. Bill was the kind of person that could tell someone yellow was black without the other person feeling even the slightest trace of doubt that he was right. Ann and Bill had been together for thirty years when he died. A lifetime. They had never grown tired of each other, and Bill treated his two girls like queens. If it weren’t for the real-life proof that she had seen in her parent’s love, May would have thought that she was setting her expectations too high – that no one would ever love anyone the way her father loved her and her mother. Still, she thought decisively to herself, better to have standards too high rather than too low when it came to boys. A slight interest in boys was probably the most normal thing about May Peters at age 14. It was, however, only a slight interest because, in her opinion, boys her age were immature and boring. She found that, often, she would rather read than talk to them, not that this should cause huge offense – May would rather read than do a lot of things.

A tentative knock on the door snapped her out of her thoughts and back into reality, also causing the contents of her makeup bag to spill over the floor. Great. A small blond head popped around the door, and she smiled at Mikey’s adorable little face. Michael Knight, the youngest of the Knight brothers, was eleven years old and a bundle of joy. To be honest, May was shocked that he had knocked; since she’d been living next door to him, privacy had pretty much gone out the window. He was the closest thing she had to a little brother and would come running around, Nintendo in hand, ready to beat her at Mario kart at any available moment. No matter how hard she tried, and she definitely tried, she was just terrible at the game. Mikey was, of course, an excellent player, which made it even worse.

Secretly, she didn’t mind; not having any siblings meant that she cherished the opportunity to have one.

Mikey did a ninja roll over the bed into the room and took on the most epic-looking ninja pose he could manage without falling over. His favourite thing to watch was the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. It is impossible to describe the amount of pride and glee he felt on finding out he had the same name as, in his opinion, the ‘coolest turtle’.

‘May, are you almost ready? I was sent to tell you that you’re taking way too long and that we need to go.’

Before May could answer, Mikey did a summersault off the bed and ran off, no doubt to announce to the others that he had completed his mission. May laughed to herself, picked up her makeup and exited the building, leaving the picturesque little cottage behind.

***

Thinking back to that time was strange for May. It was like her life was divided into before and after.

It hurt to remember her 14-year-old self-clawing her way out of the car, the arms of the other passengers trying to keep her inside, trying to keep her safe. She resisted them and started half running, half falling towards the burning building, towards the woman inside. Two strong arms wrapped around her, pinning her arms to her body and preventing her from getting any closer. She struggled but the hold just got tighter.

‘May, you have to get back in the car.’

Tristan. Mickey’s brother. She fought his hold; her whole body was shaking.

‘Breathe,’ he ordered.

She tried to breathe, tried to think. She went to speak but couldn’t get words out around the sobs that were choking her. She hadn’t known she was crying. The smoke was rising high above the bungalow roof, thick and black against the cloudless blue sky. There was the sound of glass shattering, a window breaking from the intense heat of the fire. Even from where she stood outside the house, May felt as if her lungs were filling with smoke, as if she couldn’t breathe. Her hand wrapped around the pendant that hung around her neck, the cool metal of the charm comforting, yet out of place next to the sight before her. She pushed through the sobs, forcing herself to find words.

‘My mum she’s…’ her voice came out in a rasp – had she been screaming? May looked towards the house. Ann Peters came stumbling out of the building, their home. May took a full breath for the first time. Ann came rushing towards her daughter, checking her for injuries, kissing her head.

‘You’re alive.’

Her mother just kept repeating those words as she smoothed May’s hair with her soot ridden hand, as if the moment she stopped saying it, it would no longer be true. They sank to the floor holding each other, watching their new house burn and watching their hope for their new life burn with it.

Chapter 1

The man searched. He picked up every book, chucking them across the room when it wasn’t inside. He opened every draw, spilling their contents onto the floor; he stabbed every pillow, searching its stuffing. Always searching, praying that he would find what they needed. His shoulder twinged as his shirt brushed the tender skin where his new tattoo sat – they all had to get one to show their loyalty to the cause. He ignored the pain, searching, praying. He was about to give up, knowing that he was running out of time, when he saw it. It was on the chain of a necklace, hanging from her dressing table mirror. He grabbed it, running towards the bedroom door, leaving the girl’s room littered with clothes, feathers, and ripped-up books. He was so relieved when he passed through the front door, that he didn’t notice the old woman standing behind him.

24 hours earlier…

Tristan Knight fixed his emerald green eyes on the man sat opposite him and frowned, positively certain that he’d heard wrong. Sweat still gleamed on his forehead from the training session he had just finished, his short blonde hair tousled and damp. He’d known the matter was urgent when his mentor hadn’t insisted he showered, before ordering him to sit in the vintage leather swivel chair that sat on one side of his mentor’s desk.

‘She did what?’ Tristan said.

His mentor, Bryan Malus, looked up at him through his square glasses and then looked back at the list of atrocities he had been reading. He leant back in the chair he sat in that matched Tristan’s and repeated the list.

‘She broke into the headmaster’s office, stole his keys, parachuted off the school roof and stole his Bentley EXP. She then drove out to a field and used tools from the engineering lab to turn the engine into a bomb, causing the car to explode.’

Tristan’s head was silent. He saw no comparison between the girl that did this and the sweet 14-year-old he’d known four years ago.

‘How…’ Tristan started and then realised he didn’t know what he was going to ask.

It took a lot to make him speechless, but he never would have expected that May would…

‘How do we know it was her?’ Bryan said, finishing his question for him.

‘Well, that’s the most entertaining part.’

Tristan couldn’t decide if he too, found this whole situation entertaining, or horrific.

‘According to Headmaster Dawnton, Miss Peters strutted into assembly late, walked through the centre aisle, through all her peers. May reached the headmaster, winked at him and placed his keys in his cup of coffee. All before she turned to the school and took a bow.’

Bryan looked up from the piece of paper with glee, waiting to see Tristan’s reaction. Tristan, however, didn’t know how to react. Perhaps, if it sounded at all like the girl he’d grown up with, he’d feel proud or upset for her, but this wasn’t the May he knew, so all he felt was confusion.

‘I don’t—’

‘I bet you’re wondering why I’m telling you all this.’

Bryan interrupted. Then he paused – Bryan rarely paused – dread coiled in Tristan’s gut. Bryan moved his glasses up to the top of his head, using them as a sort of hairband for his grey hair before he met Tristan’s eyes.

‘Well, you’ve come to the end of your mentorship with me…’

Tristan nodded, his three years with Bryan ended next week, at which point he’d need to find a new post.

‘So, you need a job.’

The dread in Tristan’s gut coiled tighter.

‘How does my lack of employment have any relation to May Peters?’ he asked, praying he didn’t already know the answer.

‘Well, she had already completed her training by the time she decided to enact her little… infringement, meaning that expelling her from Silverstone was pointless but.’ Bryan sighed as if it wasn’t May’s own fault that she was in the situation. ‘They did and it went on her record, so she didn’t get offers from any Mentors.’

‘That’s hardly a surprise, given the incident.’ Tristan interjected.

‘Yes but, as you can imagine, May no longer being in the protection of Silverstone Academy has caused great stress for her family, given their history.’

Tristan grimaced, images of a burning house and a screaming girl flew into his mind before he could block them out.

‘Which means she needs security.’

Tristan raised an eyebrow.

‘She’s staying at her grandparent’s house in Cornwall and, as you well know, they are two of the best guards in the world.’

‘So, you don’t need me.’

Tristan finished pretending to be hopeful but knowing there was no chance in hell that he was getting out of this.

‘However,’ Bryan continued, glaring at Tristan for interrupting. ‘There are only two of them and they are her grandparents. So, not only is there a conflict in that their affection could affect their ability but, also, it’s unlikely that an 18-year-old girl would want her grandparents with her all the time.’

‘Why me?’ Tristan asked, partly out of genuine curiosity and partly as a prayer to the heavens that there had been some mistake.

The last thing he needed to be doing right now was babysitting some annoying teenager. He’d just gained his freedom and he’d planned to find a job guarding someone in a hot country. Now he was being stationed in bloody Cornwall, in the middle of nowhere.

‘You don’t have a job lined up.’

Bryan supplied.

‘Yet.’

Tristan protested.

‘Either way, not having a job yet still means you’re free.’

Tristan waited for another reason to be supplied. Bryan rolled his eyes.

‘You’re her age.’

‘I’m 21, she’s 18.’

‘That’s closer to her age than her grandparents.’

‘There are plenty of 21-year-old guards who would kill for this job.’

Tristan wanted to add that, he, was not one of them.

‘You know her, Tristan. You know the way she thinks and what she does. She trusts you.’

Tristan wanted to argue that, after hearing that report, he didn’t think he knew her anymore. He wanted to argue that he hadn’t seen her in five years and that their relationship hadn’t exactly been ideal, so trust probably wasn’t a feeling she felt in regard to him. But he breathed instead, looking around the office he’d spent so much time in over the past three years. The walls were covered by framed newspaper clippings of the different families Bryan had guarded and trained, the big leather chairs they sat in on either side of the desk, making the room feel like the office of a mafia boss from the old movies. After taking a breath, controlling his frustration, Tristan Knight did what he was trained to do. He prepared to follow orders.

‘When do I leave?’ he said with feigned enthusiasm.

If he was going to this job, he was going to do it so well that he’d never be assigned to babysit a child again.

‘Now.’

***

May Peters lay on her navy towel, soaking up the last rays of afternoon sun. The warm breeze tickled the curling blonde strands of her hair that fell haphazardly like a halo around her head on the towel. She was