Page 143 of Dying Truth

Stung by the horror in his face, her eyes hardened.

‘One of us had to make sure she was dead,’ she spat. ‘She would never have left us alone. She would have had that child and been tied to us for the rest of our…’

Her words trailed away as Graham began running towards the couple that had ruined his life.

Laurence Winters stepped into the path of the raging bull who could only see the woman that had allowed him to fester in his own guilt. His eyes locked on her, hatred radiating from his gaze.

Kim lurched towards them but knew she didn’t have the time.

‘Noooo…’ screamed Hannah as the knife slid effortlessly into Laurence’s torso.

Immediately the blood began to stain the pure white tuxedo.

Hannah stood motionless as her husband buckled to the ground.

Graham stood, rooted to the spot, holding the dripping knife.

Laurence falling to the ground offered Graham a clear path to the true object of his hatred. He took a step forward.

Kim grabbed his wrist as he turned the knife towards Hannah. She dodged out of its path as he held fast to the knife and waved it around.

‘Give it to me, Graham,’ she said urgently.

She locked the fingers of her free hand around his grip trying to loosen his hold.

The expression in his eyes was murderous as Hannah took a step towards her writhing husband.

‘Graham, give me the knife,’ she said, again.

He shook her off easily. He wasn’t hearing or seeing anything, only the woman leaning down on the ground.

Kim knew that any rational logic had left him. Anyone that got between him and his target would be hurt.

Three more steps and he’d be on Hannah.

Kim thought quickly. There were two places men were equally vulnerable whatever their size. His front was heading away from her, which ruled out the first.

She raised her right leg in the air and kicked hard at the back of his knees.

He stumbled and fell forward; the sound of the blade clattered against the tile.

Kim pounced on his back at the waist as though riding a horse. She had to stop him doing any more damage. Kim felt herself being lifted as he tried to buck her off his back. She held on tight to his jacket. She had to get that knife, and her only chance was while he was on the ground.

She lurched forward and landed around his middle back. His hand was back on the knife. She leaned forward, covering him, her breasts pushed against the back of his head.

She balled her hand up into a fist and smashed it down onto his fingers.

He cried out as his fingers splayed open.

She pushed the knife out of his reach as he lifted himself onto his knees, which caused her to topple off his back onto the tile. He lifted his injured hand and towered above her, his legs splayed above her knee. She raised her leg and struck him full force in the groin.

He tumbled down on top of her.

The weight knocked the breath from her body, but she took the opportunity to wriggle from beneath him. She balled up her fist and punched him in the face as hard as she could. The pain shot from her knuckles right up to her wrist.

Blood spurted from his nose as his eyes rolled into unconsciousness.

Kim turned to see Saffie nodding towards his right hand.