Page 19

I fold my arms over my chest and eye her across the table. She instantly flashes me a murderous glare.

"What would you like?" I ask, my voice smooth and low.

She scoffs, leaning back and rolling her eyes. "Your name, for starters."

A slow, dark smirk pulls at my lips. "Name's Cain."

Alexis smiles frostily, her posture rigid. "I thought your name would be Satan, or Devil, or something along those lines."

I shrug, leaning my broad back against the vinyl booth. "If you call me that, I’ll answer, sweet face. Not all of us hate pet names."

Her brow furrows into a deep frown. "What’s your full name?"

"Cain Kavanagh."

The moment my last name leaves my mouth, her eyes widen, and the color completely drains from her face. She draws in a sharp gasp.

"What?" I ask, leaning forward.

"I know who the Kavanaghs are. Everyone in New Orleans knows. It’s no secret you’re at war with the Devlins."

I just smile, keeping my mouth shut and offering her absolutely zero information.

She studies my face, her sharp mind putting the pieces together. "Is that why you’ve been monitoring Nolan? Because of your family’s feud?"

I give her a single, slow nod.

Before she can press me with any more questions, footsteps approach our booth. Sophia, the thick-set owner of the diner, glides up to our table with a warm, dimpled smile, wiping her hands on her stained apron.

"Well, look who finally decided to grace me with his presence," Sophia chirps, beaming down at me. "I haven't seen your big ass in over a week, Cain."

"I've been busy, Soph," I reply smoothly, my voice softening just a fraction.

Sophia’s sharp eyes slide over to Alexis, lingering on her tight posture and her furious expression, before a knowing grin spreads across her face. "Wow. You brought a friend. She’s gorgeous."

Alexis flashes me a glare cold enough to freeze hell over but stays quiet.

"What can I get you two for breakfast?" Sophia asks, pulling a notepad from her apron pocket.

I order my usual—eggs, black coffee, and a mountain of bacon. Alexis quietly asks for toast, a side of fruit, and black tea. Sophia scribbles it down, gives us a quick nod, and scurries back toward the kitchen pass.

As soon as Sophia is out of earshot, Alexis rests her elbows on the table, staring at me like I hold the answers to the universe. "How do I get out of this mess, Cain? What can I do?"

"Two options, doll," I tell her, watching her closely. "Option one: you sit back and wait for Nolan to get bored of hunting you. But he did just send one of his men after you…”"

Alexis frowns, her lips pressing into a thin line. "And option two?"

"Option two," I say, reaching into the inner pocket of my jacket, "you help me."

I pull out a stack of crisp, black-and-white surveillance photos and fan them out across the table right between us. They’re grainy, high-resolution shots of several men I’ve spotted lurking around Nolan’s inner circle over the past few days.

"Look at these," I order. "Do you recognize any of these bastards from The Blackwood?"

Alexis glances down at the photos, then snaps her eyes right back up to mine, her chin lifted in defiance. "I’m not helping you. I’m not getting caught in the middle of a mob war. I don't want trouble."

"You're already in the middle of it, sweet face," I murmur.

She goes to push the photos back toward me, but her gaze suddenly snags on one image near the bottom of the pile. Her breath hitches for a microsecond, her pupils dilating before she instantly smooths out her expression and tries to pull her hand away.