Nick stares at me for a moment, his shoulders rising and falling with each breath. “I saw what you did to Greta,” he hisses at me. “And you tried to kill my wife. If you think I’m ever letting you leave this room except in handcuffs, you’re out of your mind.” Oh. He knows about the old lady. Damn. And now I hear the sirens, growing louder by the second. Nick is gripping the knife so hard, his knuckles are white. Just a short time ago, I was the one with a knife, and Rosalie was cowering in front of me. She lunged at me and took me down. But I can take one look at Nick and know that I won’t be
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