She stood there a heartbeat longer before turning sharply away. Her chin lifted, and she walked out with her head high, her every step a silent declaration that she refused to be part of that circus. Kane’s eyes followed her as she crossed the room and slipped through the doors without looking back.
He stayed where he was, watching the tension ripple through the mourners. The brother now stood toe-to-toe with the shouting man, keeping him from doing something stupid. Kane waited until it was clear things weren’t about to turn violent, then moved.
A man in a black suit held the door open as Kane passed. Kane gave him a curt nod and stepped out into the night. Cool air hit him, sharp and clean after the heavy perfume of lilies and sorrow.
It didn’t take long to spot her. Monica stood beneath a massive oak near the edge of the parking lot, half-hidden in shadows. Her back was to him, her shoulders hunched slightly as if the weight of everything was pressing down hard. For a second, Kane hesitated—this wasn’t his world, not his grief—but then she straightened, stiffening as she sensed him approach.
“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath, and despite the tension, it made Kane’s mouth twitch into a grin.
“Are you okay?” he asked, keeping his voice low, easy. He wasn’t about to go hard on her—not tonight.
Her shoulders squared, and she turned slowly to face him. Up close, her eyes were red and puffy, but there was steel behind them. Even wrecked by grief, she was beautiful in that quiet, dangerous way, someone built from both strength and damage.
“This really isn’t the time, Warrior,” she said, voice even, cool, and laced with exhaustion.
Kane’s grin deepened slightly at her slur of calling him a Warrior. He appreciated that she recognized him before turning to face him. He also liked that she didn’t sound scared. She just sounded...done.
“Unfortunately, this is exactly the time.” He exhaled, his tone softening. “I’m sorry for your loss, Monica.”
Her lips parted as if to respond, but she said nothing. Her chin trembled as she gave him a single nod. The night air stirred between them, carrying the faint sound of voices from inside. She looked back toward the funeral home, then down at her hands, and for the briefest second, Kane saw the crack in her armor.
Whatever she’d lost tonight, it wasn’t just her sister. It was something deeper. And Kane knew, as he watched her struggle to hold herself together, that this was only the beginning of the truth she’d been hiding. Commotion from the funeral broke the silence as they both looked that way.
“Your father, I take it?” Kane murmured as the man from earlier stormed out, the pregnant woman hurrying to keep up.
“Sperm donor is all that piece of shit will ever be to me,” Monica hissed, stepping up beside Kane.
The man’s wild eyes landed on them. “You think you can keep my family from me?” he growled, rage rolling off him in waves as he advanced. Kane shifted without hesitation, stepping in front of Monica. “Who the fuck are you? Get out of my way,” the man snarled.
“No,” Kane replied, his voice deadly calm. “Turn around, take your… pregnant companion, and leave.”
“Dammit, Dad!” The man who Kane figured was Monica’s brother hurried forward. “I told you she had nothing to do with you not being called.”
“Oh yes, I did,” Monica cut in, stepping around Kane, her voice sharp as a blade. “I’m the one who made the missing person’s report. I contacted the police and the detectives. And I’m the one who made sure your name was never mentioned as a contact, Craig.”
“Beverly was his daughter, Monica,” the woman said tearfully. “He had the right to know when she was found—to see her.”
“With all due respect, Michelle, fuck off,” Monica snapped, her gaze cutting from one to the other. “You both lost that right when he walked out on our dying mother—and us—without a word, until Beverly was found.”
“That’s not true!” Craig’s voice cracked as he looked around, searching for sympathy. “Your mother kept you kids from me.”
“Lie,” Monica said coldly. “Our mother was too busy dying, you bastard. And when Doug asked you to help with the reward money for Beverly, you wouldn’t give a penny. So don’t you dare act like you care now.”
Kane saw the shift in Craig’s expression an instant before his hand lashed out. In a blink, Kane caught his wrist mid-swing, twisting his arm behind his back and forcing him away from the crowd. Doug followed, fury etched in his face.
Kane leaned in, his voice low and lethal. “You need to take your wife—or whoever she is—and leave. You’re not welcome here. If I ever see you raise a hand toward Monica again, I’ll tear your fucking arm off and beat you with it. Understood?”
Craig’s face reddened, but he didn’t look too sure of himself now. “How dare you? Do you know who I am?”
“I dare,” Kane said, smirking. “And yeah, I know exactly who you are—a man who’d raise his hand to a woman. That makes you a piece of shit. Raise it to your daughter, and that makes you something lower than shit.”
“Doug!” Craig shouted, his confidence wavering even more.
Doug looked at him with weary disgust. “I’ve tried to believe you’d find some decency in you, but now I see that’s impossible.”
“But she—” Craig pointed toward Monica, who now held Dena protectively as Ken approached. “She has even kept me from my granddaughter I have never met.”
Ken didn’t hesitate—he swung hard, his fist connecting with Craig’s jaw and sending him to the ground. “Monica has nothing to do with you not seeing Dena. That was Beverly’s decision. If you show up to the funeral tomorrow, I’ll have you removed.”