Page 32 of Blackwood

She took a step back and wiped the dirty sleeves of her dress across her cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

He sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. “I know. Doesn’t change anything. Go.”

She sniffled and walked past him, back toward the house. I stared as he let his head drop to his chest and rested his hands on his hips. Even in that pose, he was an imposing figure. I wanted to ask him what was going on, question him about lying to me that first night when I’d heard screams—screams that obviously belonged to Melinda. But what was there to ask?

Melinda’s footsteps faded, and I waited for Garrett to follow. He didn’t. Instead, he raised his head and stared right at where I was hiding.

Fuck.

I held my breath, desperate to stay hidden as Garrett’s dark gaze swept the area.

“I know you’re there, Red.”

No.Maybe if I just stayed still—

“Come out. Don’t try to pretend you’re invisible.”

I tightened my grip on the kitchen knife and eased out from behind the tree. He tracked me, his eyes in shadow as I backed away from him. My leg had reached a new level of ache as I’d watched the scene unfold, and my limp grew worse with each step.

He walked toward me, and a primal fear rushed through me. I was in the dark woods with a wolf in the middle of the night.

“Stop.” I held the knife out in front of me. “Don’t come any closer.”

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He put his palms up, promising peace, and his tone was even and free of anger. But I’d seen the way he’d slapped Melinda.

“Stay back.” I tried to hurry backward, but the throb in my leg grew more vicious with each beat of my heart.

“You need help.” He kept coming.

“Not from you.” I feinted left and then ran right. My leg burned and stung as I struggled to escape him.

I hadn’t gone a dozen steps before he grabbed my upper arms.

“Red, please. Your leg isn’t well enough for this.” The pleading in his voice shocked me almost as much as the scene I’d just witnessed.

My head swam, and I fought to stay upright despite the dizziness. He gentled his grip on my arms, then walked around to face me. I brought the knife up and held it out in front of me.

He walked forward until the tip of my blade pressed into his chest. “You can stab me all you want, but I suggest you wait until I get you back to the house, warm you up, and check on your leg.”

“You hit her. Isawyou.” My teeth chattered.

“You don’t know what you saw.” He leaned forward, as if daring me to hurt him.

“I saw you chasing a girl, pinning her, and hitting her. I heard herscreams!”

“Did you see her hit me?” He grabbed my hand but didn’t force me to drop the knife, just held me in place. “Did you hear her beg me to hurt her?”

“Y-yes.” My teeth chattered so hard I wondered if I might have cracked one.

“I would never hurt you.” His eyes softened. “Not unless you wanted it like she did.” He squeezed my hand. “Okay? I wouldn’t take something that wasn’t willingly given.”

My leg felt colder than the rest of me. I glanced down. The side of my jeans were dyed dark crimson. My wounds must have reopened as I ran.Shit.

He gently eased the blade away and stepped closer. “Look, you can hold on to the knife if it makes you feel better.”

The realization hit me hard—if he wanted to take the knife, he could. I was too weak to do anything about it. If I tried to limp back to the house, I had no doubt I’d make it, but it would take a lot of struggling out in the cold woods to make it happen. I could chance the walk or rely on the man offering to help me.

I brought the knife to his neck and rested the blade against his pulse. “If you try anything, I won’t hesitate.”

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