Then Dain was gone, and a blur of commotion, followed by a dull smashing sound rocked the small foyer. Blearily, I dragged myself away from Dain and away from whoever had flown through that front door. I wasn't sure I wanted to know. All I knew was that I needed to escape. I wanted Knox. I wanted him so badly, it hurt more than my wounds and my fear. What Iwanted in that moment was to be wrapped in his arms, safe in our bed, and comfortable in the knowledge that someone cared for me.
Dain screamed again, this time pleading with a, "No, don't! I'm sorry! I'm so—" But his plea was cut off, and another dull thump followed by a sickening crunch sounded through the eerily quiet space.
Still on my hands and knees, still making my way to the open front door, I looked over my shoulder. To my utter shock, I found Knox kneeling over Dain. Somehow, he'd gotten here fast enough. Time stalled to a halt, wavering with a surreal, dreamlike quality.
Knox was here. He had pinned Dain to the floor on his stomach with the bastard's hands locked behind his back at an unnatural angle, and Knox had a fistful of Dain's thinning brown hair. He was smashing Dain's face against the tile. There was blood. Dain had gone silent.
"No," I croaked. My fear for Knox suddenly cut through my adrenaline-fueled survival instincts. "Knox, no!" I screamed. If he killed him, no matter what his reasoning, Knox's life would be over.
Knox stopped, his back heaving, his nose flaring as he pushed furious breaths in and out at a steady pace. He glared down at Dain, still kneeling on his back. The rage on Knox's face was something I would never forget. Here was the merciless, stone-faced angel of dark fury I had imagined Knox was when I'd first met him. There was no pity, no forgiveness, no humanity to be found in any of the hard lines on Knox's face. He shoved Dain's head away, standing swiftly and backing away from the man. "He's alive," Knox spit. "He'll live, not that he deserves to."
"Jesus," I choked out.
Like he'd snapped out of a trance, Knox turned to me, and his entire demeanor changed in an instant. He was wearing ablack winter coat, and miraculously, none of Dain's blood had marred his athletic pants or coat. His face melted, crumpling into gentle worry and grief so profound, I felt it in my own heart. He reached for me, slowly, tentatively, moving with gentle care before crouching down. "Gem," he whispered harshly.
A sob tore from my throat, and I reached back for him. The second I did that, he had me in his arms, on his knees with me cradled against his body and his lips on my forehead. "Gem, oh my God," he choked out. "Baby, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."
I curled up like a pill bug, tucking my body into his and practically trying to burrow inside of him to escape the reality of what I'd just been through. "You came," I cried softly, pressing my face into his shoulder.
"Of course, I did," he replied roughly. "And I always will."
"I was so scared," I squeezed out. Tears warmed my cheeks, and although the air from the open door was beginning to freeze my skin, I didn't care. Knox had me. I was safe. Somehow, against all the odds, I was safe.
"And you were brave as fuck," he whispered swiftly. "So brave, Gem. You had him beat to shit by the time I got here. I'm proud of you; I want you to know that. But let's get you out of here. Okay?"
"Yes, please."
Knox lifted me with shocking ease, and the idea that he could have overpowered me at any time in our relationship, could have broken my fragile bones like a stalk of celery, only made me realize how precious safety was. How precioushehad been, protecting me and shielding me with his kindness. The stark difference between a man who wanted to hurt me and a man who would do anything to keep me safe hit me like a tsunami.
Knox carried me out of the house and to his car where the engine was still running, and the door had been left open. Clearly, he'd been in a hurry, and it only occurred to me in thatmoment that he washere. Way sooner than he should have been. "How…?" I started to ask.
Knox opened the passenger side door and slid me into the seat. Gingerly, he took my face in his hands, and I flinched as pain blossomed from his touch. His lips tightened. "I'm going to go back and kill him."
I latched onto his wrist. "Don't." My mouth buzzed, full of blood and halfway numb so my words came out slurred. "S'not worth it."
The darkness that swirled in his eyes unnerved me, and I tightened my hold, willing him to stay with me. Finally, his shoulders dropped, and tightly he said, "I have to scrub us from that house. While he's out, I'll grab whatever you left and make sure your blood is cleaned up."
I stared at him, open-mouthed. "Why?"
"What's in the house?" he asked, his voice hard.
I swallowed a mouthful of blood. God, was it mine or Dain's? "Phone. Bathroom."
He nodded once and then shut the door, jogging back into the house. I didn't want to think about what he was doing in there or why, but I was certain he would explain it eventually. I let my head fall back, and that blackness that had evaded me before reached up with elongated fingers, grasping at my consciousness to claim me.
I started back to awareness when Knox's door opened, and he climbed into the driver's seat, his features composed and my beer bottle in his hand. He set it in the empty cup holder, and then he pulled my phone out of his pocket. "This won't happen to you ever again," he said so softly, I barely missed it. "I promise that."
I swallowed, and my throat protested the movement. "What d'you mean?"
Knox shifted the car into reverse. "Later. Let's get you home."
I didn't have the strength to question him more or protest. I slipped back under the black spots and wavering consciousness that had been held together with thready adrenaline and desperation, and I slept.
Chapter thirty-two
Knox
Rule #15: Rook takes out the trash.
