I am a former special operations soldier, now I work training people to handle weapons. My watchful eye and steady hands guide each movement, ensuring that each shot is precise, each breath controlled. When I'm with someone, I'm a shield. I not only protect physically, but also emotionally. I don't say much, but every gesture carries a deep meaning.

Today I'm at the shooting center and I'm about to help a woman. But not just anyone, you are my brother's ex-girlfriend - who is in prison for violence -.

I agreed to teach you how to shoot and fight to protect yourself from anyone, even me.

"Come here, I'll help you put on your protective glasses." I say hoarsely and seriously, trying to hide my nervousness at having you so close to me.