Chapter 10 #3
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?”
She did not look away from Nash.
His eyes were on hers. Their noses practically touching. Tension thickened the air between them.
“How about I just make pancakes for everyone?” Ryan asked to no one in particular. “Sound good? Great. You two kids keep practicing that sexual tension and reunited-lovers bit. Great job so far. Stellar.” He stomped away.
Nash remained exactly where he was. So did Delaney.
“You can’t be with me every single moment.” She hated the stupid, continued tremble in her body, but she hated the tremble in her words even more. “So how about instead of trying to scare me, you actually help me? Let’s assume I can actually hold onto a knife for longer than five seconds.”
“Can you?”
“Stop being a dick! Help me!”
“I fucking am. I will kill for you in a heartbeat.”
“I need to protect myself! I need to be able to—”
He stepped back. His nostrils flared. “You will only have time for one or two slashes, if you’re lucky.”
Unfortunately, she’d never been particularly lucky.
“Strike first. If you’re looking to completely incapacitate a person, you’d want to focus on the brain stem or the spinal cord.”
Nausea rolled in her. She choked it down and made herself listen.
“But those hits will probably be too difficult for you to make. Your attacker will be coming straight at you, so you need to hit fast.”
Not like she wanted to hit slow.
“The femoral artery is good.” His left hand dropped to a point near his inner thigh.
“That will give you massive blood loss. Along with that blood loss, your vic will feel a fast drop in blood pressure and probably a loss of consciousness, all within a matter of moments.” His right hand—the one still holding the knife—rose toward his throat.
“You can also go for the carotid artery. Always a winner.”
“You’re trying to terrify me. Unnecessary. I’m plenty terrified enough.”
“You’ll get covered in blood in those hits. And if you don’t succeed in actually incapacitating your target, you’ll be screwed.”
She got that.
“You can go for major tendons.” A quick movement of the knife over his body. “If you’re on the ground and have the access, your attacker’s Achilles tendon is a good target. Knocks out the person’s mobility fast.” His eyes glittered. “Of course, let’s not forget the ribs.”
“No.” Hushed. “Not like we want to forget those.”
“With a knife to the ribs, you can cause serious injury, maybe even kill your attacker. You can puncture organs, start internal bleeding…”
She wet her lips.
“But you aren’t going to have much time. The people that Kurt sends after you will be bigger, stronger, and one hell of a lot more used to handling weapons. You’ll probably only have one go at it.” If possible, his hard jaw went even harder. “Which is why I will be with you.”
But what if he wasn’t? No way could he be with her every moment.
And he’d been describing how she should attack.
Except, what if she wasn’t attacking? What if she was being attacked, and Nash was not there?
“Next lesson. How do I defend against a knife attack?” Her gaze dropped to his knife.
“If you were to come at me right now, what should I do?”
“A real knife attack doesn’t happen in slow motion. It will be fast and brutal. Stabs that keep coming and coming, and you are probably not going to be able to stop them.”
“Not the visual I want.” But then again, she’d hated all the visuals so far. “Give me something to work with here, Nash.” A plea.
“Your attacker is going to overwhelm you.” Blunt. Brutal. “They’ll start slicing and won’t stop until you’re immobile.”
“Fantastic. I get one slice, but my attacker gets to keep coming and coming?” Did that seem fair? Delaney did not think so.
His dark lashes flickered. “You’re gonna need to use whatever the hell is close in order to defend yourself. You’re not gonna be able to grab the knife out of your attacker’s hand like I did with you.”
“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.”