Page 56
Milly nods, satisfied, before stepping back inside where her private nurse is already waiting to administer her evening rounds of medication. The oak door clicks shut behind her.
Alexis and I walk down the long driveway in silence, the evening air wrapping around us as we slide into the front seats of my car. I fire up the engine, the low roar cutting through the stillness as I pull out past the gated perimeter.
"You got a shift tonight?" I ask, keeping my eyes fixed on the dark road ahead.
"Yeah," Alexis murmurs, adjusting her seatbelt. "Starting in a couple of hours."
"Hmm."
Silence settles into the cabin, heavy and thick.
My hands grip the leather steering wheel as my mind wanders back to this morning. Truth is, I didn't even plan on going to the safehouse today. I woke up with a desperate, suffocating need to see Alexis—a sharp ache in my chest that's become far too familiar lately.
But my damn pride wouldn't let me call or text her. Visiting Milly had been the next best thing.
Milly is the center of Alexis's world, but if I'm being completely honest with myself, I've grown to like the old woman, too.
She has this quiet warmth and gentleness about her—the kind of pure, motherly presence I haven't felt in a very long time. In a world full of blood, debt, and enemies, sitting in that sunny kitchen with her felt like breathing clean air for the first time in years.
"Cain?"
Alexis's soft voice breaks through the silence, pulling me out of my thoughts. I glance sideways at her.
"If Nolan and his brothers are really as dangerous as you say—dangerous enough that you have guards posted outside my grandmother's house—I need to know how to protect myself," she says, her tone dead serious, her eyes searching mine. "Can you help me?"
I look at her for two straight seconds, taking in the quiet determination etched across her features. She isn't asking for a knight to shield her; she wants weapons of her own.
"Yeah," I rumble, my jaw tightening as I flick the turn signal and execute a sharp U-turn across the empty boulevard. "I can help."
I reroute the navigation, stepping on the gas as I steer the car toward the private Kavanagh shooting range tucked away in the industrial district.
"Where are we going?" Alexis asks, watching the streetlights flicker across the dashboard as I cut down a series of side streets.
"The range," I answer smoothly, keeping one hand loose on the wheel. "My family owns a private facility on the south edge of the industrial district."
She pauses, leaning back against her seat. "I've never fired a gun before, Cain."
A low, deep chuckle rumbles through my chest. "Well, doll... you're about to learn."
She turns her head to look at me, her chin lifting with that quiet, stubborn grit I've come to expect. "I'm not afraid."
"Good," I say, stepping down harder on the gas.
Ten minutes later, I pull up to an unmarked concrete building tucked behind a high steel fence. Two heavily armed guards in tactical gear step out of the shadows, their eyes scanning the vehicle before recognizing my face. They instantly straighten up, snapping into a low, reverent nod as the gates swing open.
Inside, the range is dead quiet, the air thick with the scent of gun oil and concrete. Staff members hurry out to clear the primary bay the second they spot me.
"Mr. Kavanagh," the head range officer says, offering a respectful bow of his head. "The private lane is ready for you."
"Clear the floor," I order curtly. "Just us."
Once the room is empty, I lead Alexis into the staging area. I grab two sets of thick noise-canceling earmuffs and clear protective glasses, adjusting the straps before pulling them over her head. She settles the gear, her eyes wide as she takes in the long, dark shooting lane ahead.
I step over to the heavy metal lockbox, put in my code, and pull out a sleek, black 9mm pistol. Dropping the magazine, I check the slide before turning back to face her.
"Come here," I rumble.
Alexis steps up to the booth, her body rigid. I step right up behind her, wrapping my chest against her back, my hands covering hers as I place the frame of the pistol into her palm.
