Neither are in reach.
I keep my back to the fireplace and my eyes on his hands.
He closes the space between us in three strides.
I don't flinch.
Not until I see it—his hand coming up fast, not to strike, but to grab.
He reaches for my arm, and I twist away, but he catches the sleeve of my shirt, dragging me sideways with more strength than I expect.
My shoulder slams against the edge of the mantel as I twist to ensure he doesn't hurt my stomach.
Pain blooms sharp and immediate.
That's when the door crashes open.
Niamh barrels through, no hesitation, no attempt at negotiation.
Her boots hit the floorboards hard, and her shoulder drives straight into Liam's side, knocking him off balance.
The impact is solid and violent.
He staggers, releases me, and she doesn't stop.
She drives him backward with the full weight of her body, forcing him toward the armchair with an almost feral exactness.
Her elbow comes up under his chin, her knee slams into his thigh, and for a moment it looks like she might win outright.
But he recovers fast.
That's the thing about men like Liam and all the other mudlarks who come up through the back alleys of Dublin—they're not built for long games or cleverness but for pure animal stubbornness.
He lashes out, grabs Niamh by the hair, and yanks her back.
She swears, a short and vicious word I've only ever heard her use during acar bomb scare and twists out of his hold.
For a split second, I see the whites of Liam's eyes—panic, animalistic and immediate—and then he throws a fist straight into Niamh's ribs.
The sound is flesh on flesh.
She doubles over, but even as she does, she rakes her nails down his forearm and draws blood.
He backhands her, open-palmed, and she crashes into the low table by the fireplace.
The tray of whiskey and crystal decanters tips and smashes, glass and amber everywhere.
Niamh goes down, tangled in the mess.
Liam, breathing hard, whips around and points at me.
"You—" He's got nothing left to say.
There's no plan, no backup.
Just me and the knife I haven't grabbed yet.
I stumble upright, hand to my throat, and lurch for the hallway cabinet.
