Chapter 30
Kane watched Monica closely as they made their way back to the meeting place.
Val had driven one of the SUVs and brought them back here while Raven stayed, taking care of his bike.
..or what was left of it. Catching a glimpse of the twisted wreckage as they had passed sent Kane’s rage roaring to life.
His bike had gone down hard. Monica could have been killed.
The thought alone made his jaw tighten until it ached.
Reaching the house they had just left, he noticed how silent Monica was.
She was too silent and now heading up to the house, he saw how pale she looked under the porch light.
One of her hands stayed pressed to her side like she was afraid to let go.
Every instinct he had screamed to turn around and hunt down the bastards who’d done this, but right now, she mattered more.
His brothers would find them. He trusted that.
And when they did, justice would be handled by him personally.
Val followed them into the house, phone already pressed to his ear as he walked past them toward the kitchen, his voice low and clipped.
Kane didn’t say a word. He glanced down at Monica and saw she was still holding her side. Gently, but firmly, he guided her down the hall and into the bathroom, shutting the door behind them.
“Lift your shirt.”
“I’m fine, Kane,” Monica said, not looking at him. “It’s just sore.”
“Lift it,” he said, his tone brooking no argument. “Or I will.”
He didn’t like this version of her... quiet and withdrawn.
He knew she was still processing what had happened, but she couldn’t disappear into her own head right now.
Not when he needed to know if she was okay.
And once he knew she was okay, he was going to find the son of a bitch responsible for all of it and end this shit once and for all.
With a long sigh, she lifted her shirt.
The bruising stole his breath. Dark and angry, it stretched from just below the waistband of her jeans all the way up her side, disappearing beneath where the fabric stopped.
“Fuck,” Kane cursed, staring at it. “I need to get Slade.”
“No.” Monica dropped her shirt back down, shaking her head. “I bruise easily, Kane. I’m fine. I can move. There’s no sharp pain, and I’m not having trouble breathing. Please. I just need a minute. Okay?”
He held her gaze, fighting every instinct he had. Finally, he nodded. “Okay.”
The word came out quieter than he felt. He pulled her into his arms carefully, as if she might shatter. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I should’ve protected you better.”
That was when she broke.
It was like a dam gave way inside her. Her body started to shake, tears soaking into his shirt as her arms wrapped around him, clinging like he was the only thing keeping her upright.
“Don’t apologize to me,” she said through sobs. “If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be standing in this strange bathroom losing my shit.”
A small, strained smile touched his lips. This was the Monica he knew. He held her a little tighter without thinking, until he heard her gasp.
“Shit,” he muttered, loosening his hold immediately. Knowing what he needed to do, he pulled back, lifted his arm to his mouth, and bit into his wrist.
She froze. “Kane… what are you doing?”
“My blood will heal you,” he said, already offering his wrist. “Faster.”
Her eyes widened. “That’s… really a thing?”
“Yeah,” he said softly. “It is. It won’t take much, but you’ll heal quicker. I don’t like seeing you in pain.”
“I don’t like being in pain,” she admitted, her gaze dropping to the blood welling at his skin.
He watched as she took his arm, hesitant at first, then brought his wrist to her mouth. Her tongue brushed over the wound like she was testing it, her lashes lifting as she glanced up at him.
“More?”
“Yeah,” he rasped.
When her lips sealed around his wrist and she began to draw from him, heat slammed through his body.
His cock twitched hard, his control fraying at the edges.
He’d never offered a human his blood. Hell, only a handful of vampires had ever tasted him.
Watching Monica take it was the most intense thing he’d ever experienced.
“Okay,” he said hoarsely. “That’s enough. Too much isn’t a good thing.”
She pulled back slowly, awe written all over her face. “Your blood… it’s spicy,” she said, almost dazed. “And actually good. Never thought I’d say that in my lifetime.”
Kane noticed the smear of red at the corner of her mouth.
He couldn’t help himself as he leaned down and took her mouth in a kiss that was slow, deep, and utterly possessive.
His tongue pressed against her lips, wanting inside.
..wanting nothing more than to taste himself on her.
She opened for him without hesitation, her hands curling into his shirt as he deepened the kiss.
For just a moment, everything else disappeared. The wreck. The bullets. The fact that someone out there wanted her dead.
Right now, she was here in his arms...safe.
At that moment Kane knew—without a single doubt—that he would burn the world down before letting anyone take her from him.
Monica practically crawled up his body.
Kane helped without hesitation, his hands sliding to her ass and lifting her until she could straddle him. He moved them both, pressing her back against the wall, his mouth hot and relentless—then he stopped.
He pulled away abruptly.
She made a sound of pure protest.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Kane said, his words brushing her mouth when she tried to take it again.
“You’re not,” she shot back, rough and breathless, dragging him into another deep kiss.
This time, she was the one who broke it, making him growl in frustration.
“Does your blood make someone insanely horny,” she panted, grinding against him, “or am I just really happy to be alive and want to celebrate that with a good fuck?”
Yeah. Monica was definitely back.
He laughed and groaned at the same time, his forehead dropping briefly to hers. “Yes, it does have that effect. And I’m pretty sure surviving a near-death experience can make a person want to fuck like it’s a victory lap.”
He was seconds from stripping her naked when voices from inside the house cut through the moment.
And then his name was called.
Kane cursed under his breath. “Fuck.”
“I’m trying,” Monica groaned, still rubbing against him like she hadn’t heard a damn thing.
Then someone banged on the door.
“Get your ass out here!” Creed yelled. “We got him.”
The words hit like a bucket of ice water.
Kane stilled. “We’ll finish this later,” he said, lowering her to her feet, sealing the promise with a quick, heated kiss. “And there’s no way you’re staying in here while I deal with this, is there?”
“Not a chance.” Monica straightened her clothes, ran her fingers through her hair, her expression hardening. “I want to see the person who tried to kill me... kill us.”
He didn’t argue. She was safe. She would stay safe. And he understood that look in her eyes far too well to deny her.
Kane opened the door.
“Where is the fucker?” he demanded.
Creed stood just beyond the threshold, his expression grim.
The room was packed with both Guardians and Warriors. The tension was so thick you could choke on it. Kane’s gaze swept the faces until it locked onto the last person he expected to see handcuffed and standing between Charger and King.
In that very instant, everything shifted.