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He doesn’t move a muscle.

His expression remains unreadable as silence stretches tightly between us while he considers my request.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity of silence, he asks, “Why?”

I rub my hand over my arm and take a cautious step closer. “I want to be able to protect myself.”

Something flickers across his face before he drops his arms and drags a forearm across his damp temple. “I’m not sure I’m the right person for that job.”

Disappointment crashes over me.

“Oh.” My shoulders drop. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked—”

“Let me explain,” he says quickly.

I wait, studying him carefully.

His palms press against his thighs, tension pulling tight through his broad shoulders as his gaze drops to the floor.

I take a steady breath, stepping toward him. “Is it because of Cressida?” I ask, immediately regretting the words that left my lips when his eyes snap to mine, dark and filled with remorse.

“Who told you about Cressida?” His voice is cold, detached from the man sitting before me.

“Scarlett.” I close the space between us, standing practically between his legs. My hand tentatively finds his knee, a tremble running through me, and his gaze drops to where my touch meets his skin. “It wasn’t your fault.”

He looks up, the color of his irises slowly returning to a cloudy grey. “I killed her when she needed help.”

My thumb brushes across his muscle. “You killed her because she was seconds away from killing your sister. If you hadn’t taken that shot, Madeleine might not be here today, and then who would Clara have to spoil her when she gets older?”

He sighs. “She’d still have Vin, who will never be able to say no to her.” He cracks a hint of a smile for a fleeting second before it disappears. He rubs the back of his neck. “I kill the bad guys. It’s my job. But I’ve never…” His eyes pinch closed as he inhales deeply. “I’ve never killed a woman. One who was mentally ill and needed help.” His gaze falls. “I know I did the right thing,” he confesses quietly. “Madeleine is my baby sister. I’d do anything to keep her safe, but sometimes doing the right thing has a way of making you question everything you thought you knew.”

His eyes lift to mine and hold there, unflinching.

“I understand,” I offer. “But I hope one day you learn how to forgive yourself.” I hesitate, then add, “You’re not the bad guy in this story, Alex. You’re one of the good ones… I would know.”

His eyes soften, his body leaning into my touch. “How can you be so sure?”

A small smile tugs at my lips. “For one, there’s a little girl asleep upstairs right now who you’d burn the world down to protect. And for another…” I pause, searching his gaze.

“Yes?”

I tuck my hair behind my ear. “For another, you’re giving me a chance at freedom for the first time in my life. Something I’ve only ever dreamed of but have never been lucky enough to experience firsthand.”

His features don’t change, but something flashes over his eyes. Something that looks an awful lot like disappointment.

“Yeah.” He exhales, drags his fingers through his hair, and sits back, his knee shifting out of my touch. Its loss leaves an unexpected sting. I lower my hand slowly to my side. “I’ll teach you,” he says after a beat, adjusting his glasses. “We can use the outdoor shooting range in the woods.”

I nod quickly, forcing steadiness into my voice. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

He doesn’t say anything else, his gaze lowering.

Nervously, I tug on my sleeve. “Also.” I pause before saying, “I talked to Scarlett about her therapist.”

He shakes his head. “I shouldn’t have overstepped.”

“No, it’s not that. I just wanted to let you know I called and I…have an appointment. Virtually.” I shrug, trying to appear as if it’s no big deal, when we both know the truth. “I figured it didn’t hurt to at least try.”

His eyes dart up. “Really?”