Page 18 of Knox

I pulled back to look at Maggie, who’d pocketed her phone and watched us with curious eyes. “Thank you for your help,” I whispered, still testing my aching throat. “Both of you.”

Maggie nodded. “Of course. Nash is on the way.”

I glanced between Maggie and Knox, taking in their matching attire. “Are you catering my event?”

“I’m helping.” Knox looked to Maggie.

I winced at the burn of each breath through my windpipe. “Helping?” Of course, I’d been right. They know each other.

“Maggie needed some muscle.” Knox’s attempt at levity, at least I thought that was what it was, fell flat as he frowned. “Wait. Your event? This is your party?”

“Yes. My parents’.”

Knox’s jaw tightened, and I saw the judgment in his sharp blue eyes.

“Let’s get her inside,” Maggie suggested. She watched Knox closely, before turning to lead the way.

We moved slowly, my hip, elbow and shoulder aching with each baby step.

Flashing blue lights swept across the lawn. A patrol car pulled up to the kitchen entrance, as we arrived. Maggie hurried in the car’s direction, while I shuffled unsteadily along.

“Nash!” Maggie waved when a man in uniform climbed out.

The sheriff was younger than I expected, in his early thirties at most, with the same fair skin and hair as Maggie. He took in the scene with quick, assessing eyes. “Do we need an ambulance?”

“No. Sloane Mercer’s okay,” Maggie reported. “She’s there. Knox scared the guy off, but he got away.”

Nash’s attention shifted to me as we finally reached his car, and his expression softened. “Ms. Mercer. I’m Sheriff Nash Sullivan. Are you all right? Do you need medical attention?”

“I’m fine.” I straightened, trying to project calm though my bloodied hands still trembled. “I came outside for air, and someone grabbed me from behind. He tried to drag me into the marsh. If Knox hadn’t been there—” My voice broke.

Knox’s hand tightened on my arm.

Sheriff Sullivan pulled out a notebook. “Can you describe the man who grabbed you?”

I shook my head, fighting another round of tears. “I didn’t get a look at him, but we struggled. He was big. Knox’s height, maybe. Broader. He wore dark clothes. And gloves. I remember feeling the leather when I tried to pull his hands away.” I touched my throat, which felt tender and bruised. His attempt at chocking me was brief, but awful. “I never saw his face.”

“Which direction did he run?”

“North,” Knox said. “Toward the maritime forest. I hollered when I saw them, and he took off before I reached him. Fast for a big guy.”

The sheriff nodded, making notes. “I’ll call it in, get some deputies out here to search the area.” He stopped as voices rose from the direction of the house.

My stomach dropped. My family was going to freak out. And every guest at the party would have a new story to tell.

The group came to the doorway in a cluster. My mother and father led the charge. Behind them, a handful of concerned guests, including Tyler, a.k.a. the reason I’d stepped outside for fresh air in the first place.

“Sloane!” My mother’s voice was sharp with concern. “What on earth!” She paused before stepping outside, taking note of my disheveled appearance, the dirt and blood on my dress and face. Then the way Knox’s arm fastened around me. Her expression morphed from concern to confusion before settling on something short of panic. “What happened?”

“Someone grabbed me out back,” I said. I looked to Nash, then back to my parents. “Sheriff, these are my parents. They own this home. This is their anniversary party.” Tears pricked my eyes and I swallowed them for now. There would be plenty of time for a proper breakdown later, outside the view of all these spectators.

“Someone attacked you?” My mother’s eyes sprang wide. “Why were you outside? Why weren’t you at the party?”

Knox’s arm tightened around me further, as if he could shield me from Mom’s accusing words.

My father stared at Knox. “Who the hell are you?”

To my surprise, Knox didn’t flinch.