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.”