It hadn’t been there a moment before, but it was there now, and fear flooded through her because the last time that she’d been near a man with a knife, he’d pushed it into her side. She could suddenly feel the ache in her body, and she broke from Nash’s grasp.
A muscle flexed along his jaw. “First step is gonna be…you have to stop being afraid of me.”
So said the man with the knife.
“Yeah.” Ryan cleared his throat. “Anyone else want some eggs and toast? I think I’ll get breakfast going.” He turned away. “Gonna be one long-ass day.”
She didn’t move from her spot. Neither did Nash. Delaney was far too conscious of the knife in his hand.
As she faced off with him, Delaney realized an extremely important fact. I don’t know him. Not anymore. She’d known the man who wanted to save lives. This man was a stranger. “How many people have you killed?”
Many people had been unnerved by his gaze. Scared. When they’d been younger, she’d heard the whispers that circulated. It wasn’t just that his eyes were two different colors. It was that his stare could appear so cold. So hard.
Except…
It hadn’t ever seemed particularly cold to her. Not until that moment.
Not until…
“Don’t ask questions that you don’t want answered.” Just that quickly, the knife was gone.
What was he now? A freaking magician pulling sleight of hand? “I want a knife,” she blurted.
He shook his head.
She nodded right back at him. “Yes, yes, I do. I want a knife so that I can defend myself.”
A long sigh slid from him. And then his hand was extending toward her. The knife was back—seriously, he needed to stop just magically producing weapons out of thin air—and he offered it to her, handle first.
Her fingers shook, but she reached for the knife. It was a light weight in her hand, and the blade gleamed.
“You know the problem with having a knife on you?” Nash asked.
Uh, no, she did not. Because having a weapon was better than not having one.
He moved in a blink, coming right at her, and she didn’t even have time to scream. One moment, she held the knife, and in the next instant, he’d grabbed her, yanked her against him, and he had the knife.
He’d moved helluva fast. He’d spun her so that her back was to his stomach, one strong arm anchoring her at the waist, and his other hand—the hand that held the knife—pressed the blade to her throat.
“If you have a knife, it can be taken from you. Used against you.” His breath blew along her ear. “If you’re not planning to use it, if you’re not ready to kill and you hesitate, that hesitation will just make you easier prey.”
Ryan popped back in the room. “Forgot to ask, does anyone want…” He pursed his lips. “There is a knife at Delaney’s throat.”
She was aware of that fact.
“Why is there a knife at Delaney’s throat?” Worry tightened his features.
“Because she wanted a knife.” She felt the rumble behind her as Nash spoke. “And I needed her to know that weapons can be taken away easily and used against a person. She has to be prepared for that to happen. Has to know that Kurt and his men—they are gonna be a hundred times more used to violence than she is. So just saying she wants to know how to kill—all that will do is get her killed.”
She grabbed at his arm. “Thanks so much for that lesson. It’s not particularly helpful.”
He moved the blade away from her neck.
She elbowed him.
Immediately, Nash spun her around. “You staying alive is helpful.” His head lowered toward hers. “You want someone dead? I’ll do it. I’ll kill for you. Believe me, you don’t want to carry that shit on your soul. You let me carry it for you.”
Ryan whistled. “So, I was seriously just going to see if anyone wanted pancakes. I’d seen a box of mix in the kitchen earlier and wanted to come back and mention the option. Pancakes. Who wants pancakes?”
