Page 105 of Filthy Dirty Dom

Struggling with his emotions, Alex slowly walked over to the window. The beautiful terrain seemed to mock his turmoil. He would never completely escape the darkness of his life, which meant so long as Leslie was with him, neither would she.

He needed to remember that even knowing what Mia had been to him and how she’d died, Leslie wasn't aware of the depth of his darkness. His past was a jungle of shadows, while she was the vibrant sun, shedding light where she went. He had to protect her from his past, to equip her to face it if it ever reared its ugly head.

The two self-defense lessons he’s given her on Caris weren’t enough.

He wouldn’t let what happened to Mia happen to Leslie.

"Let's do another self-defense class," he said abruptly.

Leslie looked up from her sketches, her bright eyes searching his. She seemed to sense his shift in mood, the growing shadows in his gaze. Her lips pursed slightly, her concern evident.

"Alex, I don't know if that's..." she began to protest, but he cut her off.

"We need to," he insisted, and something in his tone made her pause.

The casual cheer that once graced her features faded.

“What were you thinking about just now?”

“Death.”

“Mia’s?”

“Hers. And Nico’s. Both killed with knives.”

His blunt words made Leslie flinch, but he hardened his heart. She was soft. Too soft to survive without him. He needed to fix that. It was the only way he’d be able to let her go, if he knew without a shadow of a doubt that she could take care of herself.

“So are you going to teach me how to fend off someone with a knife then?” she said.

It wasn’t what he’d intended, but now that she mentioned it, it made sense.

“Is that what you want?” he asked.

She lifted her chin. “If you’re determined to give me a self-defense lesson, yes.”

He clenched his jaw. “Fine.”

She stood then immediately began to change into some of the clothes that Father Alessio had gotten them from the village. Soon she was dressed in loose clothes appropriate for what they were about to do.

Alex prayed she would never need to utilize the skills he was about to teach her. But in a world that had so cruelly ripped away their peace, hope was no longer a reliable companion. It was survival, and survival alone, that could guide them through this perilous journey.

“Where will we do it?”

“Here,” he said. “You won’t always have room to maneuver.”

Leslie nodded. “Right.”

Alex went to the floorboard in which Father Alessio had told him he’d stashed some weapons. As he retrieved two knives, Leslie said, “I see Father made sure you were prepared.”

“As you know, he’s quite aware how much can be lost if you’re unprepared for a fight.”

Alex weighed the knives in his hands. The sharp blades gave him pause and he deliberately returned one knife to its hiding spot. He held out the knife he’d kept to Leslie.

Leslie looked at the knife in her hand, her expression wary. “Why are you giving it to me? I thought you were going to show me how to evade a knife?”

"That’s exactly what I’m going to do. You’re going to use that knife as if I’m an attacker coming for you, and in turn, I’ll fend you off, showing you how to do that.”

She opened her mouth, as if wanting to argue with how this lesson was proceeding, but then she nodded.

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