Vivas, p.43
Guardian: Havard Chronicles, Book One: A Gamelit / Prison Planet / Harem Adventure, page 43
Guardian
Havard Chronicles, Book One
Travis Dean
Copyright © 2026 Travis Dean
All rights reserved
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
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
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Epilogue
Thanks and Further Reading
About The Author
Chapter 1
The shrill, screeching blare of an alarm jerked me from my sleep, and I threw out a hand to silence it. Fumbling around in the twisted bed sheets, I sent my phone crashing to the bedroom floor, somehow managing to find the only section not currently covered in discarded clothes or half-filled moving boxes.
Groaning in frustration, I threw back the sheets, leaned over, and picked it up from the wooden floor, the knuckles on my right hand tender and sore as I clenched my fist around it. Squinting at the screen, 3:00 pm glared back at me as I silenced the alarm with a sigh.
Already? It felt like I’d only just closed my eyes.
Last night had been the latest finish yet since starting my new job, and by the time I’d gotten back home from the bar and wound down, the sun was already coming up. I was due back in at five, so I’d left it as long as I could before getting up and still being able to make it there in time for my shift.
It still didn’t feel long enough.
I ran my hands over my eyes a couple of times, wiping away all thoughts of further sleep. There was a time not too long ago when I would have done just that, pulling the cover back over me and hiding from the world, but I was doing a bit better now. I’d even gotten used to the empty side of the bed.
Day by day, the memories faded, and it all got a little easier.
Sitting up and dropping my legs over the side of the bed, I took a couple of long, deep breaths before rising and heading over to ease up the blackout shades, weaving between the boxes that littered the floor to get there. Most of my possessions had now been packed away, barely anything of note amongst them.
The sight that greeted me was an overgrown and uncared-for backyard under the mid-afternoon fall sun. The grass was almost knee-height now, the weeds twisting, tumbling, and covering the path enough that on first look you might miss it completely. I added it to my list of things I really should get around to.
Perhaps this weekend.
Perhaps not.
I sighed, rolled the shades back down again, and headed into the bathroom. Flicking on the light, I winced as my reflection stared back at me from the cracked mirror above the washbasin.
A couple of big lads had gotten into a fight at the bar last night. At a touch over six feet tall, I was far from small, but I’d had to put myself between them to intervene. They had both come off the worst for it, but a deep purple bruise was already making itself known under my right eye, tender to the touch.
A lucky shot that the drunk vacationer had paid for threefold.
Fuckers.
Noticing a half-drunk glass of rum and black balanced on the side of the washbasin, I paused to throw it back before turning on the shower. A gentle heat warmed my throat as I swallowed the spirit down, contrasting with the chilled water that cascaded over my short dark hair and down my body as I stepped under the water. I’d neglected the gym a touch lately, life not quite the same since she’d left, but I was far from out of shape.
Closing my eyes, I took a few deep breaths as the cool water streamed down my face. Life was slowly getting better.
Work was far from the worst job I’d ever had. Dale, an old school friend, had given me a call a few weeks back, encouraging me to provide some security for his beachside bar, and I’d reluctantly agreed. I’d always been more of a night person, so the hours suited me, and it wasn’t the busiest place, so trouble like last night’s was pretty infrequent.
As Dale had pointed out, what else did I have to be doing right now?
It had even given me the impetus to start packing my things up and begin looking for a new place. The memories here weren’t great, all those times we’d shared, and a new start was appealing more with every passing day. Dale had started to suggest places on the island, and I’d even viewed a few between the bar and downtown, though none had seemed quite right.
Six years wasted, and now, past my mid-twenties, I was starting all over again. Natalie had been there for me when I lost both parents in an automobile accident, but her recent betrayal had threatened to break me.
It took me a while to realize I wasn’t going to let it.
Shaking my morose thoughts away, I finished off in the shower and set about finding clothes that weren’t tainted with blood spray from last night. A pair of dark jeans, a black tee, and a black leather jacket hung over the back of a chair, and I got to work pulling them on.
Dressed and ready to go, I checked in the kitchen for some kind of breakfast before I left, opening the fridge to a half-eaten meat pizza and some milk that had more than likely expired a couple of days ago. OK, so maybe I wasn’t looking after myself as well as I could be.
After throwing the remaining slices of pizza into the microwave, I checked the time. I really needed to get going, so as the timer pinged, I slid the slices straight back into the box and headed out the door.
Dropping the steaming pizza box onto the passenger seat, I jumped into my Dodge Challenger and gunned it east on the 105 out of Jacksonville before heading north on Jimmy Buffett Memorial Highway toward Amelia Island. Something today had me looking for the raw beauty of the coastal road over the monotony of the heavy northbound traffic on 95. Maybe I was just working harder, making more of an effort to keep myself upbeat.
I could have picked up a job closer to home, but the relaxed nature of the island suited my current laid-back approach to life. I still hadn’t agreed straightaway, but Dale was a persuasive son-of-a-bitch. He always had been. He knew I needed a solid kick up the ass to get my life moving again, and he wouldn’t relent until I gave in.
Luckily for me, it seemed to be working.
The temperature was a comfortable mid-seventies, and barely a cloud dotted the blue skies as I headed through state parks and past multiple campgrounds full of hordes of vacationers escaping the dropping temperatures farther north.
With the window down, the breeze blew in from the sea, the faint salty tinge to the air relaxing me as I drove. I’d woken up tense and tired, but with each passing mile, I was feeling better. The now lukewarm pizza I ate as I drove also helped, though I’d probably regret it later.
Even the substantial line of expensive cars waiting to pull into one of the high-end resorts after I crossed onto the island did little to dampen my improving mood. Maybe I really could see myself living out here.
Once the line cleared, the rest of the way was serene, barely another car on the road as I whistled along to an old tune on the radio.
Dale was busy out the back when I arrived at the bar. Jed and Lucas, a couple of early twenties barmen, were dealing with the early dinner crowd out front, and I nodded to both as I passed.
Four inches shorter than me at around five-ten, Dale kept his short, blond hair wild, and whereas I preferred black, he wore one of his usual bright, Hawaiian-style shirts and a pair of khaki shorts again today. A surfboard was propped against the wall behind him, next to one of those annoying singing fish, but we both knew the board had never touched the ocean. Dale couldn’t even swim; he just loved the look.
He glanced up from his desk as I entered his back office and dropped into the chair opposite him, not even bothering to stifle a laugh as he looked me over. “Fucking hell! Noah Havard, my friend, you look like absolute shit.”
“Thanks, brother.” I reached up and lightly touched the bruise on my cheek. “Sucker-punched by that fat bastard last night.”
Dale laughed again and shook his head. “I knew that one’d be trouble. One fight in three weeks, though, and you’d think you were
lucky to be alive.”
I grinned. “Danger money invoice coming your way tomorrow.”
Still laughing, he poured a shot of dark rum for himself and then a second, passing the tumbler across the cluttered desk between us. “Good luck with that, buddy. Cleaning invoice coming right back at you. Had to scrub the floor clean after you went to town on them both.”
I nodded, picked up the glass, and knocked it back in one, sighing as I closed my eyes and sank back into the chair. I might have gone a touch too far in dealing with the trouble, but they’d both learned a valuable lesson, at least as far as I was concerned.
They certainly wouldn’t be causing trouble here again.
“Might have finally found you a place.”
I eased one eye open. “Yeah?” If it was anything like the previous ones he’d sent me to view, I didn’t hold out much hope. He wanted me to move and seemed to think I’d take anything, so he was hardly being picky. Truth was, I probably would just take almost anything if it meant I got out of my current home and all the memories tied up there.
He started to move around the cluttered papers on his desk, looking for the listing, I assumed. How he found anything under that mess was beyond me. He’d spent fifteen minutes the previous day looking for a drinks order, so the chances of finding what he was looking for anytime soon were pretty slim.
“It’s over the water in Yulee. Near some old-school BBQ place. Twenty-minute drive. Probably fifteen in that car of yours.”
I shrugged half-heartedly. Maybe it really was time to stop being fussy. “Sounds fine,” I told him.
“You want to go see it first? Make sure it’s okay?”
“Sure. If you think I need to.”
Dale shook his head and laughed as he continued to search for the listing. “Your enthusiasm is intoxicating. I don’t know how you do it, buddy.”
I threw my hands out. “I’m packed and ready to go, aren’t I?”
Dale narrowed his eyes, his gaze never leaving my face. I couldn’t easily fool him like I could others. I mean, it was partly true. I’d started packing. Most of it I’d quite happily just toss onto a bonfire and be done with it.
Finally finding the listing, he slid it across the desk and motioned for me to pick it up and take a look. As soon as I did, my gaze flicking over the triangular wooden lodge that looked more holiday home than anything else, he coughed once and spoke.
“So, you got over that bitch and moved on yet?”
I rolled my eyes and slid the empty glass back across the desk, gesturing for Dale to pour again. “In the half-day since I saw you last, you mean?”
Dale shrugged, poured me another drink, and pushed it back. “Can’t wait forever, man.”
I narrowed my eyes in suspicion. “Why you asking, anyway?” He’d asked me only yesterday, so why push it again already? I’d been burned, and it was taking me a while to dive back in, but I was hardly in danger of becoming a monk any time soon.
“No reason.” Dale tried to shrug it off, but I could tell he was full of shit.
“Come on, man. What is it?”
With a slight shake of his head, Dale relented. “There’s an absolute stunner out there today, buddy. Table in the far corner. Been sitting there alone for the past few hours. You know… maybe you could head over and say hi?”
“Maybe…” I muttered, swirling the rum a couple times before chugging it down, pushing myself to my feet, and passing the listing back across. “Looks fine. Better get to the door.”
“Absolute stunner…” Dale repeated, watching me leave.
Still shaking my head, I headed back out into the bar, glancing across toward the far corner, beyond the pool table, and finding the girl Dale had mentioned. She was almost completely covered in shadow, and a gray cloak was pulled tightly around her, but her white-blonde hair and piercing light-blue eyes caused me to falter in my step as I came to a sudden halt.
Oh… wow. Dale wasn’t exaggerating.
The faint hint of a nervous smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, and her gaze seemed to flick over me before she glanced down at the table, thin fingers clasped around a half-empty glass, clear tension in her movements.
I tilted my head a touch and smiled back, but whether she caught it or not, I couldn’t be sure as I headed over to the main door where I’d spend the next ten hours or so watching over holidaymakers, college interns, and the few locals who frequented the bar.
Let’s see how well my improved mood lasted if we had a repeat of the previous night.
Chapter 2
“I’m closing up, ma’am. You need to get yourself home.”
I glanced up from the door to see Dale talking to the last customer of the night. The beautiful young woman was still sitting in the darkest corner of the bar, and she’d been nursing the same drink for the past couple hours, lost in her thoughts. Everything about her sunken posture led me to believe she’d no real desire to leave the bar, but closing time was closing time, and she’d have to head off into the night now, regardless.
Despite what Dale had suggested, I’d not approached her during my shift, but others had tried, each rebuffed before they’d gotten within five feet. That didn’t mean, though, that my gaze hadn’t repeatedly been drawn to her. There was an almost magnetic pull, and the few times she’d caught me looking, I swore I’d gotten a slight smile in return.
Outside of those times, she’d spent the entire time fidgeting nervously, switching between looking toward the door and staring down at her drink, appearing ready to make a quick exit at the slightest sign of danger.
Sighing and pulling her dark-gray cloak tighter around her shoulders, she eased herself to her feet, knocked back the last of her drink, and slowly headed my way, pulling her hood up to cover her long, white-blonde hair that cascaded down over her ears.
Shadow framed her pale face beneath the hood as she approached, her gaze downcast, and I noticed a slight tremor in her hands as she wrung them together. She glanced at me briefly, her piercing ice-blue eyes hooded, almost pleading, like she wanted to beg for help, but from what? From whom?
She was fearful of something, that much was obvious, so could I, in any good conscience, just allow her head out into the night alone? I held the door open to allow her to exit, a slight chill seeming to emanate from her person as she eased past, and then I jogged over to the bar. “You OK if I go, Dale?”
Dale ran a hand through his wild hair as he looked toward the door, sensing my unease, and nodded. “No problem, buddy. See that she gets wherever she’s heading safely.”
I nodded back in thanks and headed for the door. Dale could close up on his own easily enough. One of Jed and Lucas might still even be around, though I seemed to recall hearing them saying their goodbyes earlier.
Pushing open the bar’s main door, I shivered in surprise as a freezing cold bite in the air hit me like a truck. Fall in Northeastern Florida was normally mild at worst, even at this late hour, and I pulled my jacket tighter around myself as a gentle shower of snow fluttered down. It had been warm earlier. This made no sense at all.
A light dusting of that same snow covered my Challenger in the corner of the uncovered parking lot, but I walked straight past, following the woman as she walked down Atlantic Avenue, passing the shuttered surf shop and heading toward town.
The walk into the historic district was only half an hour or so from the coastal bar I worked at, and if it meant ensuring the woman got back without incident, assuming that was where she was heading, it cost me nothing but a little time. And perhaps a touch of hypothermia…
What was up with this damned weather?
I watched her walking ahead of me, her head on a swivel as she seemed to sense danger in every shadow, behind every parked car. Even the palm trees billowing in the growing wind caused her to pause and check her surroundings.
Again, I found myself wondering what had her so on edge? An ex-partner? A current one? Beautiful women often found themselves the object of unwanted attention.
She’d not looked back once, but I hoped that if she did, she wouldn’t assume the worst.
As she approached South 13th Street, she slowed again and looked toward the parkland that bordered the street. I was still fifty yards or so back, but I picked up my pace now, closing in as the woman froze on the spot. Finally glancing back over her shoulder and seeing me approach, I waved, doing my best to appear unthreatening. Not the easiest thing to do when you stand over six feet tall and cast an imposing figure at the best of times.
