CHAPTER TWENTY NINE
Pinned down by her father, Riley felt like a small trapped animal staring into the eyes of its overpowering prey. For a moment neither of them moved. He held the knifepoint perfectly steady against her throat.
Riley’s thoughts raced.
Where had the knife come from?
Then she remembered—her father always carried a hunting knife strapped to his ankle. He’d grabbed it so quickly she hadn’t even noticed.
But why did he attack?
She had no idea. But if he intended to kill her, she had no way to stop him now.
Their gazes stayed locked. She saw no bloodlust in his eyes. His expression was grim, but hardly murderous—canny, not crazed.
As suddenly as he had struck her down, he pulled the knife away, took his knee off his chest, and rose to his feet.
He said, “You’re dead,
