Chapter 7
Monica pushed through the bathroom door, the noise from the house fading behind her like a curtain dropping on chaos.
The echo of her heels on tile sounded too sharp, too deliberate, as if each step reminded her she’d just made a move she couldn’t undo. She reached the sink, bracing both palms on the cold porcelain, her breath shuddering out as she stared down at the drain.
For a long moment, she didn’t lift her head. Couldn’t. Her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, trying to hold herself together when her insides felt like shattered glass.
What the hell had she just done?
Informing her new boss that Kane, aka Noah, was her bodyguard hadn’t been planned. It had just slipped out, pure instinct. And by the look on Kane’s face, he wasn’t pleased with his new fake job title.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she turned on the faucet. Water splashed against porcelain. She cupped a handful, pressed it against her face, hoping the coolness would calm her. It didn’t.
Finally, she lifted her gaze to the mirror.
The woman staring back at her didn’t look like the one she remembered. Her cheeks were hollow, her eyes shadowed and tired. Fear and determination warred in the lines around her mouth. She looked like someone who’d forgotten what it felt like to breathe without counting the seconds.
Her throat tightened. “Get it together,” she whispered. “You can’t fall apart now.”
She gripped the edge of the sink, knuckles white. The reflection stared back, silent but accusing.
Her sister’s smile, her laugh, the light that had been stolen from her had her swallowing hard.
Shaking her head, she cursed. Falling apart wasn’t an option.
Not until Griffen, Neil, and everyone tied to that operation were taken down.
She knew the son of a bitch was responsible for her sister’s death; she just had to prove it now.
Her jaw set. The reflection shifted from broken to determined. Hollow to fierce.
She shut off the water, grabbed a towel to dry her face, and then straightened her shoulders before walking to the door.
The moment she stepped out, Kane was there, leaning against the opposite wall with arms crossed, eyes sharp and unreadable.
He didn’t say a word at first. Just looked at her. Really looked at her.
“Feel better?” he asked finally, his glare softened slightly.
“Not even close,” she said, brushing past him, but his hand shot out, catching her wrist. Not rough. Just firm enough to stop her.
“What the hell was that, Monica?” His voice was low, all controlled anger and confusion.
She met his stare, chin lifted. “You’re welcome.”
“Welcome?” he echoed, incredulous.
“Yes.” She pulled her arm free, stepping closer, her voice dropping to a fierce whisper. “You wanted to play undercover, well, I just gave you a starring role. You wanted access? You’ve got it. You’re my shadow now, remember?”
Kane’s jaw tightened. “This isn’t a fucking game.”
“No shit.” Her eyes flashed with anger. “Burying my sister isn’t a game to me, Warrior.”
“We’re in this together, Monica.” Kane’s voice lost a fraction of its edge. “You need to trust me.”
“Trust? The only person I trust, other than my brother, is lying in a casket.” Her voice dropped to a bare whisper as she searched his face. “I trust no one. And if you get in my way, I will fucking kill you. I did you a favor getting you inside. I know who and what we’re dealing with. You don’t.”
Kane didn’t say a word. He just stared down at her; the only shift in his entire body was the slow, lethal narrowing of his eyes.
It was actually intimidating as hell, and any sane person would’ve backed off, but at the moment, she was far from sane.
She ignored the warning screaming in the back of her mind to shut the fuck up.
She scanned around, making sure they were alone, then swung her eyes back to him until they narrowed. “Don’t confuse my sex for weakness, Warrior.” She emphasized the name slow and sharp because she knew being called a Warrior drove him nuts.
Still, he stayed silent—utterly motionless—except for his eyes. Those eyes narrowed even further, thinning into dangerous slits of gold. God. Why couldn’t she just shut up and walk away?
“You made your reasons for going after Griffen obvious, and it had nothing to do with my sister.” Monica knew she was pushing, knew her mouth was on a runaway track, but once the dam cracked, everything came spilling out.
“What happened to that kid, Joey, and his dad was horrible—no one’s saying it wasn’t.
But forgive me if I don’t pretend it compares to what happened to my sister.
So don’t stand there acting like you’re here for me or for her. ”
Kane’s expression iced over, his jaw flexing once. “Are you finished?” His voice was controlled, but the anger underneath pulsed hard enough that she felt it.
“For now.” She lifted her chin, even though the flicker of maybe I went too far hit her. Yeah, well, too late now.
Since the moment her sister vanished, Monica had lived on scraps of hope. The second they found her body, that hope died, and something blacker...heavier took its place. Hatred. Fury. Loss so sharp it cut bone. There was no room left for politeness, or restraint, or caring.
Kane took a single step, closing the distance until she could see the darker gold circling his pupils. “You don’t know me,” he said, voice low, steady, dangerous. “So don’t assume you understand my motives.”
Monica swallowed hard as she stared up at him, but she refused to move.
He leaned in, his lips close enough that the warmth of his breath brushed her skin. “My job as a Guardian…” His brow arched deliberately. “is to protect the innocent.”
Her throat locked. The words she wanted to throw at him.
.. ‘Then why wasn’t my sister worth your protection?
’ but she kept those words to herself. That wasn’t fair.
Even she knew it wasn’t fair. It didn’t even make sense because this man didn’t even know her sister, but grief didn’t give a damn about fairness or reality.
Nope, it just wanted to blame someone at this moment; he was standing before her, making it easy for her to place her blame.
His phone buzzed, sharp against the thick silence. Kane didn’t answer it right away. He stared at her a moment longer, something unreadable moving in his gaze—anger, maybe restraint, Monica didn’t know him well enough to read him. He finally pulled the phone out, turned away, and took the call.
Monica exhaled shakily, realizing her hands were trembling. She watched him walk—broad shoulders, purposeful stride, the kind of physical presence you felt even after he was no longer in front of you. Her gaze dipped lower toward his ass.
“Hey.”
She jerked so violently that Doug actually stepped back.
“Jesus, you okay?” he asked, startled.
“You scared the shit out of me,” she muttered, pressing a hand to her chest.
“It’s not my fault you were ogling the Guardian’s ass.” Doug grinned, eyebrows bouncing like he was auditioning for “Annoying Brother of the Year.” “And honestly? Can’t blame you. He’s got that lethal-sexy thing going.”
“I was not ogling his ass.” Her face heated traitorously as annoyance flared. “I was glaring daggers at him because he’s a pain in my ass.”
Doug’s grin faded into something gentler. “Maybe so. But… I feel a hell of a lot better knowing someone like him is watching your back.”
Monica looked toward the doorway Kane had disappeared through, a knot twisting tight in her stomach.
She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Because the truth hit her like a cold shot of reality, she didn’t trust anyone.
Not anymore. And yet, Kane unsettled something in her.
Something raw and dangerous. And the scary thing was. ..she wanted to trust him.
She had the sinking feeling that whatever was between them, whether it was resentment, attraction, fury, or fate, was only starting to spark.
Glancing to where Kane had disappeared, she saw him walking toward them.
Their eyes met, and her heart fluttered in her chest. Damn, she was definitely screwed.
Hearing her brother chuckle, she snapped her gaze to him.
“I will stab you,” She growled before walking away to let her brother deal with the....Warrior. Her grin was evil as she disappeared deeper into the house.