Page 21 of Knox

She cupped her hand around his wrist. “Are you hurt?”

He shook his head. “No. And I promise I’m going to get you out of this. But Tori is really hurt, and I need your help.” He swallowed and glanced past her, then back to Kelsey. “She was impaled by an electrical conduit. I stabilized it, but we need to get her out of here before she goes into shock, or worse, starts to bleed out.”

She let those words settle in, the worry in his tone painfully haunting.

“I know you’re freaking out, and I get it, but…I need you to hold it together long enough to help me get her out. I need you to dig deep, Kelsey. I need you to be that girl I saw on stage. Can you do that for me?”

She didn’t want to acknowledge any of his words—the fact that he probably knew that her nightmares had crawled into her brain to take hold. Or that he knew she was fighting the tug to sink back in.

Or even that he’d noticed that she became someone else onstage, someone who could probably keep it together. So, she took a breath, reaching out through the horror to nod.

You are more than you expect of yourself.Her counselor’s words in her head, and Kelsey set them like a stone in her heart. Yes. Or she could be, right now.

“Where is she?”

He let her go and she untangled herself from his embrace. Followed the shine of his light.

Oh no. Tori lay in the shadows, crumpled, shaking. Broken, bloody from a metal rod protruding from her leg, her eyes huge with fear.

Breathe.Because the hand of memory had the power to scoop her up and yank her under.

“How are we going to get out of here?”

“The ceiling girder—we can climb it, as long as it holds. But we need something to carry her, like a table or a—”

“Guitar case?” She glanced over at him.

“Brilliant. But where—”

She grabbed his hand and directed the flashlight to Glo’s backup guitar caught in the rubble near her costumes. Hard sided and made for rough handling, little Tori could probably fit in it.

“I’ll get it.” Kelsey didn’t wait for him to respond, just took a breath, turned around, and climbed over the girder, heading toward the rubble.

Knox kept the light pointed in her direction, and she climbed over a chair, broken wood, and cement and found the case.

Miraculously intact. She grabbed the neck and wiggled it out free, pulling it onto herself, grabbing the handle, then unsnapping the latches. Glo’s pretty mahogany Gibson lay inside. She pulled it out and left it in the wreckage, then closed the case and turned back to Knox, handing the case through the spaces.

He took it, then as he scooted to Tori, she climbed back to her space.

He laid it beside Tori, opened it. Considered it.

Then he took the two halves and yanked.

The hinges ripped from the case, first the ones at the neck, then at the back. He made a trough for Tori to lie inside, her body in the widest part, her legs along the neck. He ripped out the support for the neck to give Tori more room.

Kelsey shimmied under the girder and came out just as he bent to lift the little girl.

“No—no—” Tori gasped, both hands on her wound.

“Shh,” Knox said in that same tone he’d used on Hot Pete. “I’m just going to lift you inside this case. I won’t touch the pole, I promise.”

“I’ll get her shoulders,” Kelsey said, and he looked up at her.

His eyes glistened, and he nodded, and her heart gave a lurch. This man.

But now wasn’t the time to consider her wounds, the what-ifs and never-could-bes.

She gripped Tori’s shoulders. So little, so breakable. Knox leaned over the guitar case to slip his arms under Tori’s body.

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