Chapter 23
Monica walked out of her bedroom after spending a good half hour replaying every damn second of what happened with Kane. How could something so incredible—mind-blowing, body-melting bliss—turn into a complete shitshow in under five minutes was beyond her.
Her gaze drifted to the empty bedroom across the hall.
His bag sat on the bed again, indicating he didn’t listen to her and leave.
..shocker. Then her eyes ran over the still messy bed, and she decided right then and there that she would have to burn it.
And soon. Because she didn’t need the reminder of the sex she probably would never ever have with another man.
Monica didn’t regret a single second of what happened on that bed. What she did regret was Kane throwing it back in her face like the arrogant asshole he was.
Seriously, how the hell did he think she was supposed to react to him demanding she quit her job, the one damn thing that might actually get her closer to the truth about what happened to her sister?
She wasn’t some meek, clueless woman who’d roll over just because a man flashed a gorgeous face and a big dick.
Monica let out a chuckle at that thought, because honestly…
it was true. But still. She wasn’t that woman, and it was sad that he hadn’t realized that.
Heading downstairs, she braced herself to see him fully prepared for round two, but instead found an empty living room.
Her eyes flicked toward the kitchen. The glass she’d shattered earlier was gone, swept up without a trace.
Her heart gave a tiny, stupid skip at the gesture, and she immediately cursed herself.
It was nice, sure, but she was still pissed.
No more heart-fluttering nonsense today, she mentally told herself.
She’d smelled coffee while she was upstairs, so she’d expected the pot to be full. What she didn’t expect was the cup, spoon, and sugar sitting out for her as if someone had actually thought about her. Her damn hand flew to her chest before she could stop it.
“Don’t even think about skipping, dammit,” she muttered, pushing her palm flat against her sternum as if she could physically hold her heart in place.
Her gaze drifted to the window, and there he was.
Kane, standing in her backyard with Knox, throwing a stick like he wasn’t the source of her current emotional hurricane.
Knox tore after it with full-body excitement, skidding in the grass, snatching the stick, and racing back to Kane with a doggy grin, bouncing in place for another throw.
As if he felt her staring, Kane turned. His eyes found hers instantly through the window. He tossed the stick one more time, said something to Knox, then started toward the house with the dog trotting proudly beside him.
Monica’s heart sped up despite her best efforts. Her gaze swept over his body—so damn solid and sure—and then back to those intense, unreadable features that sent her heart into overdrive.
God. She was screwed.
She’d let this man in, literally and figuratively, and no matter how hard she tried, she knew getting him back out of her system wasn’t going to be easy. Not even close. And deep down… she wasn’t sure if that’s what she really wanted.
Glancing at her phone, she checked her text. The click-list she rage-ordered after their fight would be delivered in the next half an hour. She had invited Theo to dinner, and she wasn’t going to flake on him. He had helped her so much, and she owed him at least a nice dinner.
Putting her phone down, she turned and poured herself a cup of coffee just as Kane and Knox came in. Knox went to his water bowl, making it sound like an elephant was drinking.
“Thanks for letting Knox out and the coffee,” She mumbled, trying to be nice.
“You’re talking to me now?” Was his reply, which was definitely the wrong reply.
“You’re still here?” She shot back, then gave him a look over her shoulder. He grinned with a nod...the jerk.
“You ready to listen to me?” Kane said, obviously not realizing he was close to getting smacked.
“Depends on what you have to say.” Monica didn’t even blink. She was the queen of comebacks, and she wielded them like weapons. “So stop with the fucking questions and get on with it.”
His cocky grin slipped, barely, but she saw it, and damn if she didn’t want to slow clap for herself. She was sure not many people, especially women, stood toe-to-toe with a Dark Guardian like Kane. The man probably had a revolving door of women ready to trip over their own feet for him.
The thought irritated her… more than she wanted to admit.
“As I was saying before, you lost your shit…” He lifted an eyebrow at her, pausing like he was waiting for her usual smartass reply. She kept her mouth shut on purpose, just to spite him. “The reason I brought up the point of you quitting—”
She slammed her coffee cup in the sink. Still silent. Because she was petty like that.
“—is because someone hired the assholes who ran you off the road,” Kane finished, completely ignoring her drama. “You want to take a guess at who hired them?”
“Farrar.” She frowned. “Wait—how do you know this?”
“How do you know it was Farrar?” he shot back, looking genuinely surprised.
“I didn’t know,” Monica admitted with a shrug. “But Griffen had me followed too. And after meeting Farrar at the funeral, he just… gave me the willies.”
“The willies?” Kane frowned, eyebrows pulling down like she’d just spoken another language. “What the hell are the willies?”
“How long have you been alive?” Monica snorted, shooting him a sideways look. “You’ve never heard of the willies? When something makes your skin crawl? Seriously? You deal with demons, and you’ve never gotten the willies?”
“No,” Kane said flatly, as if offended she’d even asked.
“Uh-huh. Sure.” She gave him a look that said she wasn’t buying it.
“I have never had the fucking willies,” Kane snapped, voice kicking up just enough to make her snicker. A huge, deadly alpha male arguing about the word willies was just… too damn much.
“Fine, whatever,” she said, still smiling. “Now answer my question. How are you so sure it’s Farrar?”
“I had the Warriors and Guardians looking for the car.” Kane leaned against the counter like he wasn’t six feet of dangerous distraction, and was still looking a little offended. Her gaze dipped to his shoulders before she yanked it away.
“Must be nice, knowing people,” she muttered, staring at her fingernails so she wouldn’t picture him naked again. Too late. Dammit.
“You’re not even concerned that your new boss is having you followed?” Kane growled, ignoring her jab.
“This isn’t about me,” she snapped, finally meeting his eyes. “It’s about finding out what happened to my sister. How many times do I have to tell you that?”
“Dammit, Monica.” Kane scrubbed a hand through his hair, and she had to hide her satisfaction. Good. Let him be as irritated as she was. “Do you not care about your own safety? I have a gut feeling this is going to go bad, and I don’t want you anywhere near when it does.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why do you care?” The words slipped out before she could stop them. Whatever. She knew exactly why she asked. She wanted him to care. And it pissed her off that she cared about whether he cared.
Before he could answer, there was a loud knock on the door. Kane cursed and spun around, his whole body flipping from relaxed to lethal in a heartbeat.
“Stay here,” he ordered.
“It’s probably my click-list order,” Monica muttered as he stalked to the door. He didn’t open it right away—he listened first, every line of him coiled and dangerous. Then, with lightning-fast motion, he yanked it open.
“Dude—you scared the shit out of me!” a young guy yelped.
Kane just stared at him. Not a word.
Monica rolled her eyes and rushed to the door. “Sorry. He’s a little… intense.”
“A little?” the guy gulped.
She lifted a finger. “Hold on.” She dashed back inside, digging through her bag. “I know I’ve got some cash in here somewhere—”
“Ma’am, you already tipped me on the app,” he said, taking another step away from Kane.
“Yeah, well, that was before my guest traumatized you,” Monica quipped, still digging. “And before he forgot what the word ‘apology’ means.”
Kane grunted as he pulled out his wallet. To her absolute shock, he handed the guy a fifty. The poor kid stared at it as if it might explode before finally taking it.
“Fifty bucks,” his eyes were wide as he stared at the money, then glanced nervously at Kane. “Thanks, man,”
Kane grunted as he watched the guy hightail it back to his car with a hard stare.
Monica bent to grab a few bags, but Kane beat her to it, grabbing all of them with a look that told her to back off. Then his eyes flicked to the driveway, tracking the kid’s car until he pulled out onto the road and disappeared.
“Not very trusting, are you?” Monica lifted a brow as Kane turned and walked into the kitchen. He didn’t bother answering, just dropped the bags on the counter like that was explanation enough.
She shut the door with a sigh, then followed him in. The silence between them wasn’t exactly uncomfortable… just charged. She started putting groceries away, aware of him watching her like she was a puzzle he couldn’t decide if he wanted to solve or break apart.
Her skin prickled under that stare. And no, it sure as hell wasn’t the willies this time.
It was something else entirely—something hotter, more dangerous, something she absolutely did not need added to her already screwed-up brain where he was concerned.
One moment, she wanted to strangle him, and the next, she wanted to strip bare ass naked, jump on him, and relive what they shared last night.
When she closed the cabinet a little harder than necessary, she caught him still looking at her, jaw tight, eyes unreadable. She swallowed, turned away, and kept moving even though her pulse wasn’t cooperating.
Yeah. This was going to be a long, unnerving day… and if she wasn’t careful, Kane might end up rattling her far worse than any enemy she could ever face.