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“Don’t answer that,” Henry warned, moving closer. Which meant that the knife moved closer as well. “Don’t even think about it.”

“If I don’t answer, people are going to start worrying,” Alli replied. “And if they’re worried, they’re going to start looking for me. Sam knows I’m here.”

“That’s why we’re going to leave,” Henry said. “We can’t stay here.”

Alli had once covered a story about a women’s self-defense course when she was a reporter in Southern California. One of the first rules they taught was to never let anyone take you to a secondary location. Never, ever. That’s where they were going to kill you, and no one would know because it was private and the perpetrator had all the time in the world to do the deed.

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Alli declared, faking a bravado she didn’t truly feel. It’s all she had left. “If you’re going to kill me, you’re going to have to do it here with me screaming my head off. And I’ll make sure I scream your name as I die. They’ll hear me all the way to Tate’s Tavern.”

“Bitch,” Henry muttered. She’d scored a point because he wasn’t looking confident. He looked more unsure than ever.

She had to keep up the pressure.

“How would you even get me out of here without my cooperation? I’ll kick, bite, and scream,” she pressed. “You’re out of options, Henry. Put down the knife and call the sheriff. It’s your only chance. Who knows? Maybe I’ll turn that knife on you?”

Her phone rang again inside her purse. Whoever was calling wasn’t giving up.

“Let me answer this,” she said, her hand hovering above her handbag. “They’re going to keep calling until I answer. You know that. Don’t let this go sideways, Henry. There’s still time to save yourself. You don’t want to call the sheriff? Fine. Drop the knife and run. Get out of town before they can catch you. If you leave now, you’ve got a head start. But if you wait too long, it will be too late.”

Henry’s face crumpled, tears running down his red cheeks. He kept shaking his head as if to deny the reality of the situation.

“No, no, no,” he sobbed, his shoulders hunched over and his eyes red-rimmed. “It was an accident. An accident. I didn’t mean to kill Leigh.”

“Then explain that or run. But killing me isn’t going to happen. I won’t allow that to happen.”

She sounded far braver than she felt. If Henry had been concentrating on anything other than himself and his dire situation, he would have seen her visibly trembling, her voice shaking, too. The only thing keeping her upright was a massive surge of adrenaline. If she somehow managed to get out of this alive, she was going to collapse in a heap on the floor when it was over.

I will not die today.

Silently making that vow, her gaze darted around the room, looking for a weapon of some kind. She needed a way to fight back, or at least use something as a shield between her and the knife. Then she could make a run to the door and out to the street where she could flag down a passing car or pedestrian. She was sure that if someone else was close by, Henry would lose the little bit of courage he was holding onto so tightly.

There was a lamp on an end table, but it was about a foot out of reach. A basket sat next to the fireplace, holding a crocheted throw. That wouldn’t be helpful. A glass with a candle inside sat on the counter between the kitchen and living room. It was also out of reach, but maybe if she could slowly move in that direction, she could grab it and chuck it at his head? Or would it be better to move toward the lamp instead? It would do more damage.

Face it, I don’t know shit about danger scenarios.

“What’s it going to be, Henry?” she asked the shaking and sobbing man. “Are you going to put the knife down? Are you going to run? I won’t let you hurt me. I’ll fight you tooth and nail. My DNA will be all over you.”

The sound of a vehicle and a slamming car door caught both her and Henry’s attention, giving her the momentary break she’d hoped for. His head swiveled to the front windows, and she didn’t allow herself to think about the wisdom of her actions. Thinking was overrated. She had a split second to react, and maybe save herself.

With the loudest scream she could muster, she launched herself at Henry, specifically knocking at the arm that held the knife. It was a dangerous and potentially stupid move. If she didn’t get it right, she’d be impaled on the long blade.

As she’d hoped, the knife fell from his fingers and skittered across the floor, just as the front door flew open and Sam rushed in, tackling Henry to the maple flooring. Both of the men went down with a thud, Henry taking a few wild swings at Sam, but it wasn’t even a contest. Henry was older and out of shape, eating three martini lunches and riding around in golf carts on the weekend. It only took Sam two good punches, and Henry gave up, lying on the floor crying, rocking back and forth, repeating that it was an accident over and over.

“Are you okay?” Sam said, jumping to his feet to wrap Alli in his arms. “Tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” she assured him, although if it weren’t for his holding her, she was sure she’d be lying on the floor, too. “But I might throw up and then pass out.”

Sam had her on the couch immediately, tucking that crocheted throw around her.

“You might be in shock,” he said. “For a minute I thought I’d lost you.”

“Would it have mattered to you?”

Alli looked deeply into Sam’s eyes, seeking the answer and finding it easily. Gone was the cold and remote man she’d seen this morning. But today, there was no mistaking the emotions he didn’t bother to hide.

“I’m sorry about this morning. Goddammit, I love you, Alli. I really do. But I’m going to mess up sometimes⁠—”

“Stop,” she commanded, placing her hand over his mouth. “I get it. We all mess up. And I love you, too. But next time, let’s work through it together. Just don’t shut me out.”