Kian (Undercover Billionaire, #1)(17)

By the time they left the house, Kian had stopped trying to speak to her, and they drove in silence. For this moment, Roxie couldn’t even begin to think about the fact that Lily was Kian’s daughter. It was too much of a reality she didn’t want to explore.

That would be saved in her brain until later, until she could properly process what all of that meant. For now, she wanted nothing more than to figure out what she and Lily were going to do now that the immediate danger was over.

She could keep telling herself that tomorrow would be a new day, and important decisions could be made then. As long as she did that, she could choose her own reality. It was working for her . . . for now.





Chapter Eight

It was always a surreal moment when you found yourself standing beneath a hastily set-up tent with rain coming down on the other side of it and people beside you whispering words of comfort you aren’t able to process in your fuzzy brain.

Roxie wasn’t focusing on the closed box in front of her. No. That wasn’t her sister inside there. It was just a body, an empty vessel that had once held the spirit of her sister, a woman Roxie had been too selfish to get to know.

The preacher spoke words of praise of Pamela as a strong woman who loved her daughter, who’d overcome great odds to be a person others were proud of. Roxie didn’t look away from the drops of water falling on the other side of the preacher’s head.

When she squinted just right, she could slow down the motion and watch individual drops drip from the canvas and hit the ground. If only the preacher would shut up, she might be able to hear the splash.

Why wouldn’t people just be quiet? Enough had been said already.

“Are you okay?” Kian asked.

She heard his words, but even those wouldn’t process in her brain. She held Lily in her arms, clutching her tightly as she continued staring at the drops of rain. She could feel Kian’s presence, knew his hand was touching her, but she felt so disconnected. This was a dream, wasn’t it? It had to be. There was no possibility that she was at a funeral for her sister—for her beautiful niece’s mother. No. It wasn’t even in the realm of possibility.

And she didn’t even live in this town anymore. She lived in Portland. She’d left this place—left her sister, her friends, and her lover. So, Kian couldn’t be standing beside her, couldn’t be whispering words in her ear. She couldn’t be holding her niece. This was nothing more than a bad dream.

“Do you need to take a walk?” Kian asked.

Roxie tried to make her lips move, tried to figure out what it was he was saying, but she still couldn’t process it. In the back of her mind, she could hear voices. She even noticed that the preacher’s voice was no longer interrupting her focus on the water droplets, but still she couldn’t figure out what to do. It was so odd.

Her head turned the slightest bit to the side as the preacher moved, obstructing her view of the current raindrop she’d been tracking.

“Let me take Lily, sweetie,” someone said.

Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. The man with the soft voice standing in front of her had kind eyes, she decided. But she had no idea who he was. She must have seemed confused because he gave her a gentle smile.

“I’m Sherman Armstrong, and I’ve known your family for a long time,” he told her. “I went to school with your grandpa. He was a good man.”

Her grandpa? A flash of white hair and a beard flashed through her mind, the smell of tobacco instantly invading her senses, making her bottom lip quiver. Her arms tightened, and Lily made a sound that snapped Roxie back to the present.

She shook her head and looked at Sherman, whose expression hadn’t changed. She turned and found Kian looking at her with worry. The rest of the people around them seemed nothing more than blurs. Tears finally stung her eyes as she felt her heart begin to thunder.

This wasn’t a dream. It was real. Her body began shaking.

“Can I take Lily so you can say goodbye?” Sherman asked again.

Lily looked at him and gave a shy smile while he held out his arms. Her niece leaned toward him, shocking Roxie. The traumatized little girl didn’t easily go to people, clinging instead to Roxie, which filled her heart with warmth.

Sherman pulled Lily close to him, and her niece snuggled against him as he rubbed her back in comforting strokes.

Her arms empty, Roxie turned to look at the oak box in front of her. Though she was aware this wasn’t a dream, it still didn’t feel real. She stepped forward, noting that Kian stayed by her side. His hand rested on her lower back, and though she knew she should push him away, she also realized he might be the only thing keeping her from collapsing into a heap on the wet ground.

He was lending her a quiet strength she desperately needed but was too prideful to admit she wanted. Warmth coated her cheeks before turning cold as tears descended. Kian reached up and wiped her face with a soft pressure of his fingers. That only made more tears fall.

“I’m sorry I didn’t check on her, sorry I didn’t take care of her,” Kian whispered.

Roxie realized in that moment that Kian was the reason her sister had turned her life around. Yes, there was some bitterness there, and yes, she was allowed to be mad about what had happened, but she could also appreciate that her sister had found love when she’d delivered Lily.

“You gave her Lily. You gave her purpose,” Roxie said. She meant the words.