Club 'DRUNKEN CHERRY' (FIGHTERS AGAINST DARKNESS #1) (CHECK ON AMAZON!)

Chapter 19 "VIOLET"

Toris abruptly took my hand and gave me something that I never thought I would get.

"It's for you, Violet. If ever you need to defend yourself, this thing will become your weapon. This dagger is made of strong steel, reminiscent of Damascus steel.* My mother used to work in a secret factory and was involved in various military projects. While there, she made this dagger and concealed it from others due to security reasons. This is a very important weapon and could be used against the government. She was scared for our lives and moved with me to another country. When I was older, she shared this secret with me and told me to protect this dagger and pass it on to the next generation. Since I don't have children, I'm giving this dagger to you. I know that you're a good person, Violet, and you need it more than I do. I'm sure he will help you in difficult times."

I looked at the dagger with curiosity and admiration. It had no counterpart to anything in the world. It really was the size of an awl; thin and elegant, but very sharp. I was wondering where I could hide it and not hurt myself, but Toris gave me a jacket with a hidden pocket. She also said that the dagger could be used as a hairpin if I could attach it correctly to my hair. She also told me how to use it, if I needed it.

I thanked Toris for everything and gently hugged her goodbye. She was barely holding back her tears, like she didn't want us to leave. It seemed like we had formed a bond with her in the short time, even if it was somehow unusual. Before leaving, I told her it's not her fault that Signore de Rege was what he was, because he was unlikely to change. She could either accept it or leave him. Personally, I would prefer the second.

Kyle and I got into a black SUV and began to move away from the de Rege family ranch. Kyle's eyes ran through the mansion up and down once and then switched to the road. He was probably trying to understand why that place gave him so much grief and frustration. And why it still punished him so. Why did all that happen in his life?

Kyle put a hand on my knee, slightly stroking it with his palm. He was most likely thinking that I needed moral support, especially after what had happened in the house, with his father.

"How are you feeling?" Kyle asked me anxiously. Perhaps he thought that I would need a psychologist after what his father tried to do to me.

"I don't want to think about what happened." I muttered unpleasantly, glancing at the flashing scenery outside the car window. Despite my mood, Kyle took my hand and placed it on his thigh, keeping his eyes on the road.

"You're shaking and nervous. And your hands are cold as ice." He said, starting to warm my hand with his own.

"That's because you rolled down the window. The wind is blowing hard and I'm cold." I argued.

"Bad liar!" Kyle snorted, but didn't take his hand off. He continued to stroke my fingers, calming the choleric and violent disposition of his woman.