“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 wordwillieswas 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 aboutme,” 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.