He places his hand on my lower back, leading me to the shower and pushing me inside before following me. After the shower, we both get dressed—Kai in his usual suit and me in a pair of sweats and a tank top.

“I know you want to stop working how you work now, but does that mean you will stop wearing suits?” I question, taking him in. The dark-blue suit with the white dress shirt and tie all fit him like a second skin, showing off the taper of his hips and the wide expanse of his chest. I have never put much thought into men’s clothing, but he seriously knows how to dress and does it well, so the thought of never seeing him dressed like he is now is slightly disappointing.

“Don’t look at me like that when you know I have to leave,” he growls, wrapping an arm around my waist, pulling my body flush with his.

“I was just asking a question,” I mutter against his lips when his mouth connects with mine.

“Be good for me while I’m gone.”

“You be careful,” I whisper gently, trailing my fingers down his neck.

His eyes go soft as he shakes his head, kisses me once more, and then pulls me out of the room. I walk hand in hand with him to the front door, where he kisses me one last time before stepping outside and heading to his car, which someone has pulled up in front of the house for him. Once he’s behind the wheel, he gives me a chin lift and I blow kisses at him.

Chapter 12

A Bullet and a Band-Aid

“So, what do you want to do?”

I turn, come face-to-face with Frank, and smile. “Go to the beach.”

“Oh,” he says, sounding disappointed.

“What did you have in mind?” I ask him, and his face transforms and he gets a glint in his eyes.

“Have you ever shot a gun?” he asks.

I shake my head before replying, “I took self-defense classes and have done some martial arts training, but I have never shot a gun.”

“Well, there is no better day than today.” His smile widens, and he puts his arm around my shoulders.

“What’s going on?” Aye asks when we walk into the kitchen.

“I’m taking Myla to learn how to shoot,” Frank says.

Aye looks at me then to Frank and frowns. “Myla is not going to be anywhere near a gun. She would end up killing herself…or one of us.”

“Hey!” I pout.

He looks at me and shrugs. “You know it’s true.” He raises a brow.

I roll my eyes.

“What if we get in a shootout?” Frank asks.

I look at him like he’s crazy.

“It could happen,” Frank adds.

I feel the blood drain out of my face, because I know he’s right. It could happen.

“It won’t,” Aye assures me when he takes in my ashen appearance.

I swallow and think about what Frank just said. As nervous as it makes me, I know that he’s right. I need to learn how to shoot.

“I want to learn,” I say.

Frank’s, “Really?” and Aye’s, “Not happening,” come at the same moment.

I ignore both and carry on. “I think it would be good to know…just in case.”

“Kai won’t like it, Myla.” Aye argues.

“Kai isn’t home and never has to know,” I assure him.

He looks doubtful, but I can also see that he knows I’m right, even if he doesn’t want to admit it.

“Fine, we’ll go to the range, but you have to swear to do everything I tell you to do,” Aye negotiates.

“Swear.” I cross my fingers over my heart.

He mutters something under his breath then looks at Frank. “If she gets hurt, I’m blaming you.” He points at Frank’s chest.

“Sure,” Frank says then smiles at me and winks.

“This is going to be bad. I’ll go get the car,” Aye mumbles, leaving the kitchen.

“It will be fine,” Frank states.

I hope so.

*

“I can’t believe you shot me,” Frank groans, lying back on the stretcher.

“It’s barely a scratch.” Aye rolls his eyes.

I squeeze Frank’s hand, because even if it is just a scratch, he is right. I just shot him.

“A bullet hit me,” Frank growls.

Aye just shakes his head.

“All right. You’re free to go,” the EMT says after placing a Band-Aid over the small wound.

“Are you sure that’s safe? What if I have a concussion?” Frank asks.

The EMT looks at him like he has lost his mind.

“Come on, Frank. Let’s get you home so you can lie down and rest,” I interject.

“That’s probably smart. I’m a little tired,” he tells me, and I fight not to laugh at him. “And you should call me Uncle Frank.” His arm goes around my shoulders and I feel myself stumble slightly from his weight.

“Okay, Uncle Frank.” I tilt my head to look up at him.

He smiles, but then his face goes serious. “Don’t tell Kai about this,” he pleads.

I press my lips together to keep from laughing and nod my head once. Then I help him the rest of the way out to the car. No way would I tell Kai about this. I could only imagine his reaction.

Kai

As soon as I get off the plane in Vegas, I head to the car that is waiting for me. Frank Jr., my uncle’s son, is standing outside with his arms crossed over his chest and a look of displeasure on his face. He looks just like my uncle, but where Frank Sr. is slightly crazy, Junior is serious and has been my right arm since I was just a little kid.