“I need to make sure you can hit with your right hand. I don’t want you placing it against your wedding ring,” Aleksei says as I stare down at the brass knuckles he got me for my birthday.

I can’t help but warm inside. I didn’t really think he was going to get them for me, but I know he’ll do anything to make me happy. Even if that means giving me a weapon.

“My right hook is just fine,” I say, winking at him. He grunts, but I see the pull to one side of his lips and know ...