Kane glances over his shoulder, concern etched on his face as he sees my expression. I give him a slight nod to show I’m okay.
“When did it start?” I ask, dreading the answer.
“Six months ago.” The admission hangs between us. “I tried to stop it, Kori. I swear I did. But every time I pulled away, he’d threaten something worse.”
I think of Mark’s face today, contorted with rage as he grabbed me. The possessiveness, the entitlement. How could I have missed who he really was?
“He was here today,” I tell her, my voice surprisingly steady. “He put a tracker in my bag and followed me to Canada.”
“Oh god.” Her breath catches. “Did he hurt you?”
I look down at the bruises forming on my arm. “He tried. Kane stopped him.”
“Kane?” she asks, confusion evident.
“Someone I met. It’s complicated.” I don’t have the energy to explain everything now. “Mark was furious, Lana. More than I’ve ever seen him.”
A long pause, then: “He came by my apartment this morning.”
Something in her tone makes my skin crawl. “What happened?”
“He was looking for you.” Her voice is barely audible now. “When I said I didn’t know where you were, he...” She trails off, and I hear her take a shaky breath. “He hit me, Kori. More than once. Said it was my fault you left.”
The room seems to tilt around me. Mark—my husband, the man I thought I knew—had beaten my sister and had tried to drag me into a car against my will. What else was he capable of?
“Lana, you need to go to the police.”
“I can’t,” she whispers. “The photos. My job. He said if I told anyone—”
“Fuck the photos,” I snap, anger surging again,but this time directed at Mark. “Fuck the job. He assaulted you. He tracked me across continents. This isn’t normal, Lana. This is dangerous.”
Kane turns entirely now, alerted by the urgency in my voice. He approaches slowly, his expression questioning. I cover the phone with my hand.
“Mark beat Lana this morning,” I explained quickly. “She’s terrified he’ll come back.”
Kane’s jaw tightens, but his voice is calm when he speaks. “Is she somewhere safe?”
I shake my head, then ask into the phone, “Where are you right now?”
“My apartment,” she answers. “I called in sick to work. I look... It’s bad, Kori.”
I make a split-second decision. “Hold on a minute,” I tell her, then lower the phone.
“Kane,” I begin, not sure how to ask this. “I know it’s a lot, especially after everything, but would it be okay if Lana came here? Just until we figure something out. She’s not safe in the city if Mark goes back.”
I expect hesitation, maybe even refusal. After all, Lana is part of the reason I ended up on that plane to Ireland, the reason I crashed into his life. But Kane doesn’t hesitate.
“Of course,” he says immediately.
Relief floods through me. “Thank you,” I whisper,squeezing his hand before returning to the call.
“Lana? Listen to me. Pack a bag.”
“A bag?” she echoes, clearly confused. “Kori, what are you talking about?”
“I’m staying with... friends. They have resources.” It’s easier than explaining the MacGallan dynasty right now. “You’ll be safe here, I promise.”
“But what about work? My apartment?”
