His leg zipped out and kicked the knife out of my hand. Panic jolted through me as I made a mad grab at it, which was the wrong thing to do. During my nanosecond of preoccupation with the knife, he surged to his feet and dragged me forward by my bun. His other hand gripped my neck tight enough to cut off speech.

No! I bucked and twisted and clawed at his hands. Even his gaping wound leaking black blood. Especially his gaping wound.

He didn't let me go. Just tightened his hold ...