“Well, why not? You made it look easy.”
“You just, hell, you barely had your hand on the damn thing. I took it. You won’t be able to do that. No way you rip the knife away from an attacker. So grab what is nearby, instead. A lamp. A picture. A pot. A freaking pan. Whatever you can find, use it. Your attacker is probably gonna be bigger, so he’ll have one hell of a lot longer reach than you. You have to watch the space between you and him. Try to keep him as far from you as possible.”
“Okay, so distance. Distance is key. And utilizing whatever the heck is close by. Got it.”
“He’ll stab and slash repeatedly.”
More horrific visuals.
“There won’t be time to get away after the knife starts coming at you.”
“Not like I just want to stand there while he stabs me. Should I run? Fight? Try to block the blows?”
“I always try to take control of the hand wielding the attacker’s weapon. If I break his fucking hand, not like he can keep coming at me with a knife.” A curt nod. “You want a summary of what to do if some creep is coming at you with a knife?”
Yes, she did want one. Hadn’t she asked for one?
“Fine. Stay the hell away from the attacker. Keep as much distance between you as possible. Use anything around you as a weapon. Destroy the attacker’s hand that is holding the knife.” A pause. “Don’t get stabbed. Because it would really piss me the hell off.”
“Not like it would thrill me, either.” Don’t get stabbed was the most obvious advice ever. Delaney glowered at him. “Fun talk.”
“Pancakes!” A bellow from somewhere close by. Probably the kitchen.
The bellowing interruption was good because she could use a bit of distance between her and Nash. A break to eat might be just what the doctor ordered. She began to walk toward the sound of Ryan’s bellow.
But Nash stepped into her path. Nash, who’d already made his weapon vanish again. “We’ll work on self-defense.”
“Promise?” Because she needed to feel more in control. As it was, she felt completely powerless in her own life.
His hand lifted. His fingers brushed over her cheek.
She flinched.
His stare hardened. “And we’re working on that, too. You have to look like you want my touch.”
Oh, screw it. “I do want it.” Blunt. Bold. Pride destroying. “That’s the problem.”
Shock flashed on his face.
She skirted around him and fled for those promised pancakes.
“Too many.”
That low growl stopped her in her tracks. Frowning, Delaney glanced back.
“You asked me how many people I’ve killed.” He looked down at his hands. “Too many.” He turned his hands over, staring at his palms. “My hands have been covered in blood.” He peered back up at her. “Can you handle that?”
She backed up a step.
“That’s what I thought.” His lips pulled down. “I’m not the boy you knew, and I am worried that the man I am will terrify you.”
Chapter Eleven
“‘Can you handle that?’ Wait, wait, wait. You seriously said that shit to her? Those actual words? After Delaney admitted that she still wanted you?” Ryan sat on the cabin’s front porch as darkness surrounded them. “Why would you do that? That is the time when you close in with charm and skill. When the woman says she wants you, you grab the opportunity. You don’t send her running while you try to scare her away!” A disgusted shake of his head. “Talk about shooting yourself in the foot. No wonder she was edging away from you all day long.”
Nash stared into the darkness. They were in the mountains, at the end of a long, lonely, snaking bit of road. A million stars glittered overhead, and a million insects seemed to chirp from the woods around them. “I was trying to be honest.”
“Oh, great. Why? Because you want to watch her slip through your fingers again? That’s your current goal?”
