But his gaze jumped to Charlie. A Charlie who was racing after Delaney.
Kurt began to laugh. “You’re…gonna lose her.”
Nash’s gaze whipped down to Kurt even as the shovel pressed deeper into his prey’s throat.
“Picked him…deliberately. Delaney—that heart of hers was always too soft. You think…you think she’s gonna try and hurt someone who looks like a kid? He’ll slice her throat, and she won’t even be able to call for help.”
Nash’s grip tightened on the shovel. “You’re the dead one.”
“She’ll never love a killer.” Kurt smiled at him. “We both know that, don’t we?”
“It’s a chance I’ll take.” He?—
“Freeze!”
Fuck. The cavalry had arrived. But then again, he’d known they’d arrive sooner or later.
“Nash, get the hell away from him!” Ryan thundered.
But he wanted to kill the man who’d tormented Delaney. Nash’s body tensed. It would be so easy to drive the shovel down. One brutal plunge of the shovel was all that he’d need to do. Just one strike.
“Nash!”
He was coming at her with a knife. Nash had told her to run, and the kid from the no-tell motel was chasing her.
Distance is key. A lesson that Nash had taught her. She wasn’t supposed to let her attacker get too close, but the guy was far faster than she was. He was barreling toward her, and she needed a weapon, desperately.
Grab whatever is nearby. More words from Nash. Instructions he’d given her when she asked how to defend against a knife attack. A lamp. A picture. A pot. A freaking pan. Whatever you can find, use it.
She slipped in the dirt. Her feet were bare, and her ass went down, hard. Like an unfortunate heroine in a horror movie, she just tumbled right down. Her fingers grabbed at the dirt.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” the guy chanted as he closed in on her. Charlie. His name is Charlie. “But I have to do it! I have to prove I can!”
Delaney staggered to her feet. He was almost on her. Definitely within striking range. So she threw the handful of dirt that she had right at him. It hit him in the face, in the eyes, in his mouth.
“Bitch!” Charlie yelled as he spat out the dirt and lifted a hand to automatically rub his eyes. The hand that held the knife. Since it wasn’t pointed at her and he was distracted, Delaney threw her body at him, as hard as she could.
They slammed into the ground, tumbling, and the knife dropped from his fingers. He grabbed her.
So much for following the distance-is-key advice. Maybe throwing her body into his had been a bad idea. She should have kept running.
His fingers tightened around her throat, cutting off her air.
“I’m sorry!” Charlie cried again. But his fingers tightened. He was apologizing as he killed her.
Her fingers stretched and closed around the handle of the knife. Your attacker is going to overwhelm you. Nash’s voice was so clear in her head. They’ll start slicing and won’t stop.
She couldn’t breathe. He was closing off all her air. But she’d just touched the knife. She had a weapon. His young face was above her. He was apologizing. Voice cracking. But hands hurting.
She sliced out with the knife. Cutting at his arms. His hands. Again and again. Fast, frantic stabs. They’ll start slicing and won’t stop. Something else Nash had said. But her attacker wasn’t the one slicing. Delaney was.
She didn’t stop.
He screamed. Let her go.
She kept slicing.
It was her life or his.
