Kendra’s POV
When Scott stopped a few feet in front of me, I noticed something in his hand. He slipped it out of his pocket with a smooth flick of his wrist, and that’s when I saw the knife.
A sharp panic clutched my chest, and I scrambled backwards instinctively, my spine hitting the plush back of the lounge.
He must have noticed the way my breathing hitched, the way my whole body tensed, because he raised one brow like he found it amusing. Then, casually, like this was the most normal thing in the world, he said, “Relax. It’s yours.”
I blinked. “What?”
He held it up slightly between two fingers. “The knife. Your knife. I’m just returning your property.”
Without thinking, I surged forward.
“Give it to me,” I snapped, reaching for it.
But I didn’t get far. His free hand shot out fa
