Chapter 7
Sloane
My vision tunneled and my chest burned. Rough hands crushed the air from my lungs as I tried to break free. I clawed at the arm locked around my torso, my nails scraping uselessly against what felt like leather. The world tilted in a nauseating spin.
Across the darkened yard, my friends and family enjoyed a party. No one had a clue I was about to lose my life. My pulse leapt and hammered so frantically I could hear it, an erratic drumbeat drowning out nearly everything else.
Except the distant sound of yelling. Someone was hollering a series of booming threats into the night.
The assailant paused in surprise, only for a second, but that was all I needed.
I drove my foot down hard on his, wishing I could shove the heel of my shoe straight through him. I bent my arm and attempted to drive my elbow into his spine by way of his belly button.
I opened my mouth to scream once more, but I was falling.
The hands had released me.
I dropped like a stone, hitting the ground with a bone-jarring thud. My palms scraped against sand and broken shells near the scrub grass. Pain exploded through my shoulder, hip, and wrist.
Footsteps thundered away from me, crashing through the underbrush.
Then a shadow covered me, blocking the beam of moonlight through the clouds. The newcomer was massive and fast-moving. I couldn’t catch my breath, stand, or get away.
A scream made of terror and adrenaline tore from my throat, raw and primal as the newcomer approached. I scrambled backward, shredded palms sliding in the sand, as I prepared for attack number two.
“Sloane! It’s me. It’s Knox. Are you okay?”
The strangely familiar voice dampened my panic.
I blinked at the figure crouching before me, and Knox’s face came into focus.
His strong features were tight with concern, those striking blue eyes scanned my face, my throat, my arms, assessing and searching for injuries.
He glanced over his shoulder, into the darkness where my attacker had disappeared.
“Are you okay?” His hands hovered near my shoulders without touching, as if he was afraid I might break. “Sloane, talk to me. Are you wounded?”
I opened my mouth, but only the sound of a strangled sob emerged. “Someone attacked me.”
“I saw that. I’m sorry.” Knox’s jaw clenched. He looked torn, his whole body coiled as if he might sprint into the darkness and hunt the bastard down. But he didn’t move. Didn’t leave my side. “He got away.”
The reality of his words hit me like a blow. I was safe. Knox was here, and the man who’d tried to drag me into the marsh was gone.
A sob broke on my lips, then another, louder, racking my whole body and causing my teeth to chatter. Misplaced adrenaline flooded through me in waves, too much, too fast, with nowhere to go.
“Knox!” A woman’s voice carried across the lawn. “Knox, what’s going on?”
He lifted one big hand, keeping his eyes on me. “Here! We’re here!”
Soft footsteps approached, quick and light. I tried to pull myself together, to stop the shaking, but my body wouldn’t obey.
“Holy shit.” Maggie appeared beside us, her face pale and wide-eyed in the moonlight.
“What happened?” She took in the scene, gaze skimming over me where I sat on the ground, Knox crouched protectively beside me.
Then she looked to the trampled reeds leading into the darkness. “Oh my God. Ms. Mercer?”
“Someone attacked her.” Knox’s voice was flat and controlled. “Big guy, dark clothes. He ran when I got here. Headed into the marsh, probably already in the maritime forest.” He turned to Maggie. “Call your brother. I’ll get Sloane back to the house.”
Maggie already had her phone in hand, clearly planning to make that call without his request. “Is she hurt?”
“I’m okay.”
Knox’s attention returned to me. “Let’s get her inside and cleaned up.” He offered a hand in my direction.
I nodded, and he curved strong fingers around one of my elbows, steady and warm.
“Can you stand?”
I nodded again, not trusting my voice while Maggie spoke to someone on the phone. With Knox’s help, I got my feet beneath me. My legs wobbled, unsteady and weak, but he kept me upright, pinned safely to his side.
My sobs turned slowly into whimpers as he steadied me. Then the tears vanished as quickly as they’d come. I wiped at my face with my free hand, accidentally smearing sand across one cheek. There was blood on my dress, on my palms, on Knox.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said quietly. His gaze caught mine in the moonlight. “You’re okay. That’s what matters. The cuts look superficial.”
I leaned into him, welcoming his kindness and strength. He smelled like soap and clean cotton and something else I couldn’t name. His free arm rose around me, solid and protective, and I let myself melt into that embrace.
I took a mental inventory, thankful I wasn’t seriously injured. Bruised and shaken, yes. But nothing I wouldn’t survive.
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.
“Knox Hawthorne. I was helping with the catering when I heard Ms. Mercer scream.”
“He saved me,” I said, my voice growing stronger now.
I could feel my family’s judgment and suspicion.
They were looking at Knox as if he was someone dangerous, instead of the man who’d saved my life.
“Someone grabbed me in the dark. I wouldn’t be here right now if Knox hadn’t heard me scream and chased the guy off. ”
“Jesus, Sloane.” Tyler pushed past my parents, reaching for me. “Come here. Let me see if you’re hurt.”
I stepped back instinctively, pressing closer to Knox. “I’m fine, Tyler.”
Tyler stopped short. His gaze darted from me to my unexpected protector, then back.
“You don’t look fine. You’re bleeding.” Tyler’s face was tight with concern, or possibly annoyance, that I was making a scene.
His hand closed around my wrist and tugged.
“Come on. Let’s get you inside and cleaned up.
” His eyes flicked to Knox with barely concealed disdain.
I jerked my wrist free, and the movement sent a sharp pain through my shoulder. I winced. “Do not touch me.”
“Sloane—”
My brows rose in challenge. “Do. Not,” I repeated. We weren’t together anymore. He didn’t get to swoop in and play the concerned boyfriend as he had so many times when something didn’t go my way. I’d only realized in hindsight that the attention he gave was always about him.
“I’m trying to help.”
“You’re trying to control the situation,” I corrected.
I could feel everyone staring. My parents, the guests, Maggie, Sheriff Sullivan and Knox.
But I didn’t care. I turned back to Knox, who was watching me with something like admiration in his eyes.
I raised my chin in defiance, and his arm tightened around me once more.
The sheriff stepped closer and tipped a finger to the brim of his hat.
He’d been quiet so far, observing, I realized.
“Mr. and Mrs. Mercer,” he said, redirecting their attention.
“I’m Sheriff Sullivan. I’m going to need to speak privately with your daughter, Knox, and eventually, the members of your party.
I won’t keep anyone long, but I will get to the bottom of this. I assure you.”
I squared my shoulders, unwilling to allow my parents control of the situation either. “We can speak in my office, Sheriff,” I said.
Sheriff Sullivan moved to my side. “Thank you.”
I glanced at the growing crowd of guests behind my parents. “Mother, would you mind asking everyone to return to the party? I’ll be out with an update as soon as I can.”
My mother’s lips pressed into a thin line, but years of playing hostess at events just like this one kicked in. “Of course, darling. Everyone, please. Let’s give them some space.” She herded partygoers back into the house, her voice bright and controlled.
My father lingered, his gaze moving between me and Knox. “We’ll talk later,” he said quietly. A promise and a threat. “Thank you for your help.”
Knox nodded.
Tyler was the last to go, throwing a final dark look at Knox before stalking inside.
Reluctantly, I stepped free of Knox’s warmth and led him, Maggie, and the sheriff through the kitchen. “Right this way.”
We followed a hallway lined in paintings from Mom’s travels to a small room overlooking the sound. I excused myself to wash up in the guest bathroom across the hall, removing blood and dirt from my palms, forearms and face. I’d have to change the dress later.
I splashed water on my face and took long, deep pulls of air to regain composure, then squared my shoulders and crossed the hall.
I sank into the chair behind my desk, feeling as battered and bruised as if I’d been in a car accident.
Knox had positioned himself against the wall beside my desk. A clear view of the room and hallway beyond the open door as I arrived. Still at the ready if I needed him.
Maybe it was the adrenaline, hot and thick in my system, or his strong jaw and soulful eyes, but I didn’t want him to leave.
Sheriff Sullivan closed the office door, shutting out the noise of the party. “All right. Let’s start from the beginning.”
I closed my eyes and let myself remember every detail possible. I felt Knox’s gaze on me as I spoke, and when I finished, I checked to see that I was right.
Knox’s expression was unreadable and intense, but his gaze was fixed on my face.
Whatever this was between us, it made me feel simultaneously electrified and safe. I didn’t want it to end. And I didn’t want to be alone. As I answered the sheriff’s follow-up questions, I couldn’t help thinking Dad was right.
Maybe it was time I hired a personal protection detail.