Kat put a hand over her eyes while grasping for the cord that closed the blinds. Her head felt like a locomotive was trying to bust out of her skull and her stomach felt like there were a fleet of bumper cars inside ramming into each other.

She knew better. She’d spent most of her adult life as a bartender, so she knew all too well the effects of overindulging. But instead of listening to the reasonable part of her brain that told her to stop, she’d continued to drown her sorrows in wine long after Natalie and Ginny had left.

She silently cursed Marco. She hadn’t been hungover in at least five years and this was all his fault. If he hadn’t deceived her, she wouldn’t have drank so much wine and . . .

Okay, even in her sorry state, she knew she had no one to blame for her current condition but herself.

She stumbled into the kitchen, her stomach lurching at the sight of the empty Oreo package. Had she eaten all of those? She picked up the wrapper to dispose of it and gagged at the sugary sweet smell. There was her answer.

Saltine crackers. Those and water were about the only things she’d be able to keep down, and even that would be a struggle. But she knew she’d be hurting even worse later this afternoon if she didn’t get something in her stomach now.

Nibbling on the edge of a cracker, she took the sleeve of saltines back to bed. She normally wasn’t one to give into a pity party, but what the hell. She didn’t have anything else to do today, so she’d spend the day in bed sleeping off her hangover and forgetting Marco Adamo existed.

Except she never would.

For years, she’d directed her rage over her brother’s disability at an unknown face named Mark. Every time Ryan had fallen while trying to use crutches, she silently cursed Mark. Every time she’d let herself into Ryan’s apartment to find him strung out on pain meds, she’d imagine punching Mark. Every time she looked at her brother and the broken man he’d become, she wanted to make Mark suffer as much as her brother.

But the joke was on her.

For the first time in years, she’d been looking forward to a date with a man. Was it just twenty-four hours ago she’d woken up thinking about seeing Marco again and kissing him?

Maybe more than kissing him.

He wasn’t the man she’d thought he was and that made her even angrier that he’d somehow managed to slip past her defenses. Never again. She was just glad she’d learned her lesson before things got too far. Because oh, god, what if she’d gone on their date and ended up sleeping with him?

She closed her eyes and visions filled her mind.

The thoughts were deliciously wicked and made her disgusted with herself.

Her phone chimed and she grabbed it off her nightstand, grateful for the distraction. When she saw it was a text from Ryan, she hit ignore. She wasn’t ready to talk to him yet. Somehow, she felt he’d betrayed her by making excuses for Marco. Her brother always had been easygoing. Too easygoing for his own good.

She flipped over, burying her face in her pillow. Though she felt like death, she wasn’t actually tired. That came from years of training her body to make do with less sleep.

She tossed and turned in bed for another twenty minutes before giving up and deciding to get in the shower. The steam made her light-headed, forcing her to hold onto the shower wall to keep herself upright.

Damn. She really was a mess. She would need all day to recover.

After her shower, she lay back down on her bed, wrapped in her towel. She was out of damn ibuprofen, Tylenol, aspirin, everything, and her head was protesting. She might have to knock on her neighbors’ doors and ask to borrow some. Except that would require actually introducing herself to them, something she’d never bothered to do. She especially didn’t want to do it now when she looked like hell. Ever since she’d had to shoot that guy in her apartment, they all avoided eye contact and gave her the side-eye.

No, she just might have to venture down to the corner store instead.

The ringing of her phone felt like ice picks were piercing her brain. She fumbled for the device, searching for the ignore button. Instead, she accidentally accepted the call.

Damn.

Before putting it up to her ear, she glanced at the number and exhaled with relief upon seeing it was the nursing home and not Marco or Ryan. Still, she hoped they didn’t need assistance with Gram. Normally she wouldn’t mind, but today she wasn’t up for it.

“Ms. Delagrange, this is Nurse Hewlitt.”

The nurse’s somber tone had Kat sitting up straight, clutching the towel at her chest.

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry to have to call you like this.” The nurse’s voice broke, setting Kat’s nerves on edge. Nurse Hewlitt was Gram’s favorite and the feeling was reciprocated. “Your grandmother passed away this morning.”

* * *

Not even a month into her job, Kat was forced to take a personal day. She’d much rather have been at work than making arrangements for Gram’s funeral. The task should have fallen to Gram’s son—Kat’s biological father—but he’d been MIA for months. Whether he was hiding from the police or from men much more corrupt than he, Kat had no idea. Frankly, she didn’t care. She was actually glad to have him out of the way. Meeting her asshole father while she mourned the death of the only parental figure who’d truly cared about her was not something she wanted.

She hated the way the funeral director looked at her across his mahogany desk—the same material used for the rows and rows of coffins in the showroom. His expression was sympathetic, but it was practiced, a guise he wore as part of his job. He didn’t actually care about the deceased.

Luckily for Kat, Gram had made arrangements years ago. Kat hadn’t known that, but she was grateful. All that was left for her to do was sign on the dotted line.

Thank God. In her numb state, she couldn’t handle much else.

She thanked the funeral director one last time as he showed her out. The funeral was set for tomorrow and despite the cold, it would be a graveside service. Gram must have anticipated dying in warmer weather, but Kat wasn’t about to ignore the woman’s wishes. She and the other mourners would simply have to bundle up.

Her next stop was the nursing home to take care of a task she dreaded—cleaning out Gram’s room. The staff told her she could wait a few days or even until next week, but she wanted to get it over with. Waiting wouldn’t make it any easier and besides that, she’d just have to take another day off work.

It pained her to see the other residents going about their business, shuffling along to water aerobics or bingo. She supposed they were used to dealing with death, used to dealing with their friends and neighbors dying. For them, death was part of life.

Kat had experienced death once—her mother. She’d gotten lung cancer from the two packs a day she’d smoked. It had been brutal and quick. Kat hadn’t even cried. It was hard to cry over the death of a woman who’d taught her she wouldn’t amount to anything. A woman who stayed married to a man who abused her children. A woman who’d not had an ounce of maternal instinct.

Probably the greatest favor she’d ever done Kat was confess that her father wasn’t actually the man she’d grown up with.

How would her life have been different if she’d had Gram, who was such a positive force in her life, when she’d been younger? Her maternal grandparents had died when she was just a child, but she was never close with them anyway.

Kat stood outside Gram’s room and took several deep breaths before pushing open the door for what would be the last time. She half-expected to find Gram sitting in her chair, looking out over the garden. The empty chair struck her deep—right in the hole in her heart.

Though Alzheimer’s had already stolen most of Gram from her, the full loss was hitting Kat harder than she’d expected. She’d thought she’d been somewhat prepared.

The staff had thoughtfully left her a stack of boxes and packing tape sitting on the bed. Other than that and Gram’s absence, the room was the same as it always was.

Kat took a moment to take it all in before she picked up the tape and assembled the first box. Most of the stuff would go to charity, but Kat would keep a few things that had sentimental value, like the teapot Gram had gotten from her own mother.

The room was relatively small, so it didn’t take long to pack everything up. She left the boxes for charity in the room as the staff had instructed and carried a lone box out to her car. Believe it or not, she’d miss this place almost as much as she’d miss Gram. The staff were always so welcoming and had become a family for the residents, many of whom didn’t have any family of their own. By extension, they’d become Kat’s family as well.

As Kat was juggling the box while trying to unlock the trunk of her car, her phone rang. She managed to answer it just before it went to voice mail.

“Hello?”

“Is this Ms. Katherine Delagrange?”

“Yes, it is.” Kat rubbed her brow. No doubt this was more unfinished business relating to Gram’s passing. When her mother died, things had been much easier since the woman hadn’t had any assets. Hell, she hadn’t even had enough money to pay for the funeral. Kat had had to take out a loan. Gram, it seemed, had been much more proactive, but aside from that, she had over eighty years’ worth of life to untangle.

“I’m Peter Finnegan, your grandmother’s lawyer.”

Another one? Kat had already spoken to one this morning. The conversation had been quick and efficient—nothing more than a formality.

“I already spoke with Mr. Plesser this morning.”

“Mr. Plesser is my associate, and I’m afraid he spoke with you before he had all the facts.”

“Okay.” Kat got into her car, but she didn’t start it. It irritated her that she’d wasted time on the phone this morning with Mr. Plesser only to have to do it all over again with this guy. That firm needed to get their act together.

“To make a long story short, your grandmother left you an inheritance that was only to be divulged in the event of her death.”

“What do you mean?”

“To use street language, the stipulation was kept on the down low.” The lawyer chuckled at his own joke, then cleared his throat. Kat had to smile. Gram had probably appreciated his corny sense of humor. She’d been the queen on puns and knock-knock jokes before the dementia stole that away from her.

“Okay, so what do I need to do?”

“Nothing, yet. There’s all sorts of paperwork to take care of first. But I wanted to reach out and let you know so you could be prepared.”

Prepared? What the hell did she need to prepare for? Kat had a bank account, so if Gram had left her some money, she would simply deposit it. Though the thought of benefiting from Gram’s death didn’t sit well with her.

“Well, thanks for calling,” Kat said, trying to wrap up the call.

“Do you want to know how much the inheritance is?”

Kat fiddled with the loose vinyl on her steering wheel. It felt wrong even talking about Gram’s money this way. Kat was nothing if not practical, but her grandmother hadn’t even been buried yet.

And Kat had yet to process her grief. She’d been going through the motions, checking things off her list that she needed to do. But soon, she knew it would hit her. When it did, she wanted to be in the privacy of her own home.

“Are you still with me?” the lawyer asked, sounding rather excited, inappropriately so.

“Yes,” Kat said. “I’ll be in touch to make an appointment soon.”

She disconnected the call, not caring if she was rude. She’d hit her breaking point.

And no amount of money could bring Gram back.

* * *

Marco sat with trepidation in Ryan’s apartment. When his friend had called and asked him to come over, he hadn’t wanted to, but Ryan had been insistent. Ryan’s place was Kat’s territory and he didn’t want to risk encroaching.

He’d picked up his phone countless times to call her, wanting to explain, but in the end, he let it go. What was there to explain? He caused the accident that injured her brother and she hated him for it. No amount of explaining was going to change that.

There was no reasonable explanation, anyway. He’d been a dumbass all those years ago and Ryan paid the price for that every single day.

“Kat’s grandmother died,” Ryan said.

“Wouldn’t that make her your grandmother as well?”

Ryan shook his head. “A few years ago, our mom confessed she’d had an affair, so Kat and I are only half-siblings.”

“Huh.” Marco didn’t know what to say to that. I’m sorry? Somehow that didn’t seem right. From the little Ryan had said about his father way back when, the man wasn’t anything to be proud of anyway. Maybe Kat was better off having a different father.

“Anyway, Kat’s real dad is just as much of an asshole as my dad, so she didn’t bother with him. Mom sure as hell knew how to pick the losers.” Ryan shook his head. “Her grandmother, though, is a classy lady. Well, was. I met her once, but I didn’t want to be the third wheel, you know? She lived in a home. Alzheimer’s set in pretty badly right after Kat met her.”

“And her grandmother didn’t tell Kat’s father about her?” Marco leaned in, curious about this arrangement. Then his brain cleared. What the fuck was he doing? He shouldn’t be inquiring into things Kat considered private.

But why the hell was Ryan telling him all this?

“No, she knew her son was an ass.”

Marco felt for Kat. That must have been hard to have her identity turned upside down only to learn her “new” dad was as bad as the old one. Marco knew a thing or two about asshole fathers.

“Is that why she changed her name?”

“No, she changed her name before that. That’s another story I’m not going to get into. You’ll have to ask her.”

That only made Marco more curious, but he guessed he’d never know.

“Why are you telling me all this?” he asked, hoping Ryan would get to the point.

“The funeral is tomorrow. I want you to go and keep an eye on her.”

Marco did a double take. “Are you serious? I’m the last person she’d want to see there. Why don’t you go?”

“She doesn’t want me there.”

“Why not?”

“It’s complicated,” Ryan said with a sigh, running his hands through his hair in frustration. “And besides, I have an exam in one of my classes. Even though she doesn’t know about the class, she’ll find out eventually, and if she finds out I skipped out on the exam to attend a funeral she doesn’t even want me at, she’ll be pissed.”

Marco leaned back in his chair. “She’s got to have friends who can support her. Isn’t she friends with Ginny and Natalie?”

“Those two sure as hell can’t go and before you ask, that’s another long, complicated story that I’m not getting into. Besides, those aren’t the type of friends she needs there.”

Exactly what type of friend did Ryan think she needed? Kat had made it perfectly clear she hated Marco and wanted nothing to do with him. He was not the man for this job.

“I appreciate you’re trying to look out for your sister,” Marco said slowly, “but asking me to go to the funeral is not the answer.”

“She doesn’t even have to know you’re there.”

Marco was thoroughly confused. “Then what’s the point?”

Ryan shook his head. “You’re not understanding. Kat’s strong. She can deal with the funeral. But remember how I said her real dad is an asshole? That’s putting it mildly. He’s dangerous. That’s the main reason she doesn’t want me at the funeral. If he—or his friends—show up, things could get bad. I doubt that will happen, but I’d feel a lot better knowing someone has Kat’s back if it comes down to it.”

“And I’m the guy you thought of for this job? She hates me.”

“You wouldn’t be my first choice considering that, but I don’t have a whole lot of options. If I wasn’t in this damn chair, I’d go myself, my exam and her objections be damned. But that’s not an option.”

This was the first time Ryan had brought up his disability and the fact that it limited him. It felt like a sucker punch to Marco’s gut.

But still, showing up at Kat’s grandmother’s funeral would make an already tough situation for her even worse.

“It’s not a good idea,” Marco said, but his resolve was fading. He’d been trying to figure out a way to make amends with Ryan for years. How could he say no to the first thing his friend asked of him?

“Come on, man. Don’t make me play the you owe me card.”

“Shit.” Marco hung his head.

“Look, it’s probably nothing,” Ryan said. “But Kat’s all I have and she’s already dealt with some messed up shit in her life. I would feel a lot better knowing you’ve got her back. Just in case.”

Double shit. Marco wanted to know what the messed up shit was that Ryan referred to. It would probably explain why Kat put on such a defensive front, but he knew better than to ask. He didn’t have any right to that information.

“Ryan, are you sure about this? Your sister hates me.”

“She doesn’t even have to know you’re there,” Ryan reiterated. “The funeral is outside. Hide behind a tree or some shit. Use your military training. I figure if you can hold your own in the Middle East, then you can handle this. And I trust you.”

“Dammit.” Ryan had him in a corner. Marco owed him. And besides that, if Kat really might be in danger, Marco didn’t want her unprotected any more than Ryan did. “I’ll do it on one condition.”

“What?” Ryan asked.

“You cash those checks.”

Ryan opened his mouth to protest but must have thought better of it when he saw Marco’s expression. “I’ll cash some of them.”

Marco considered for a moment, then stuck his hand out to seal the deal. “Fair enough.”