Page 95 of Knox

The door behind me burst open, and Walter Jr stormed inside. Face red and eyes swollen, a snarl twisting his features into a mask of rage. “You. Little. Bitch.”

I grabbed a knife from the wooden block on the kitchen counter and held it between us. “Stop right there.” I sniffled and croaked. “They know you’re here. They’re coming.”

He stalked closer, assessing the scene, determining his next move.

“They know what you’ve done. How many women you’ve killed. You’re going to pay for all of that now.”

He overturned a stand with a vase, and I jumped when it crashed. “Well, then I might as well get in one more!” His voice climbed with each word, growing into a feral scream.

“Your Dad was arrested for your crimes,” I said. “You let him take the fall.”

Walter stopped between me and the front door, expression blank. I supposed psychopaths didn’t care about their fathers. The look in his eyes at the moment suggested he only cared about one thing.

I turned and ran.

Something struck me from behind, and I went down hard. Elbow cracking against tile, breath exploding from my lungs.

Knife bouncing from my grip.

Then his hands wrapped around my ankles, and he dragged me backward. I clawed uselessly at the slick marble floor, leaving a streak of blood from the cuts in my hands.

I rolled onto my back the moment he released my ankles. Pieces of the broken vase he’d hit me with lay scattered across the floor.

I brought my legs up for protection, then I drove my heel into Walter’s face. I felt the satisfying crunch of cartilage as blood exploded from his nose.

Flipping onto my hands and knees in the next second, I almost made it onto my feet, before Walter’s weight hit me from behind.

We crashed onto the floor together, and I scrambled onto my back, freeing my arms to fight. Face to face with a serial killer, his massive hands closed around my throat again and squeezed.

I clawed at his face then recalled my self-defense training. Don’t fight fair. Be cruel. Then run. I jammed my thumbs into Walter’s eyes.

He jerked back with a howl of pain.

I crawled away from him, dizzy and weak, unable to get my feet beneath me again and frantically searching for the dropped knife.

Walter stretched upward. His angry face swam above me. The weapon I sought was already in his hand. One of his eyes had nearly swollen shut from my attack. Blood streamed from his broken nose, and the skin on his face was welted and red from the pepper spray. He looked every bit like the monster inside him.

I scooted on my back across the floor, sobbing as I tried to put space between us.

The sound of a roaring engine penetrated the fog of my mind. Tires on shells. Skidding to a stop.

Walter’s face contorted in fury and he lunged for me, oblivious to everything except his need to kill.

The knife blade glinting as it plunged.

My eyes closed as I pushed away once more, certain this breath would be my last.

But the blade never reached me.

Chapter 31

Knox

My heart hammered against my ribs as I flew down Ocean Boulevard, phone pressed to my ear, redialing over and over. Straight to voicemail every time.

Nash’s voice crackled through my Jeep’s speakers. “I’ve got units en route. ETA three minutes.”

“I’ll be there in one.” I took the turn onto Sloane’s street on two wheels.