When You Dare (46 page)

He had to get it together.

After a deep breath, Dare said softly, but with iron demand, “Be quiet now.”

Molly looked at him, but he didn’t meet her gaze. She would unravel him if he did. He couldn’t soothe her yet, couldn’t crush her close or tell her…

He sawed his teeth together and cleared his mind.

Under cover, he passed the gun to Chris and closed his hand around it to ensure he had a good hold. “Okay?”

Chris took a breath. “Yeah. Got it.”

But Chris didn’t look good. He probably had a damned concussion—or worse. Dare’s heart twisted…

“I’m up for it, Dare. Just go.”

Molly’s mouth opened twice before she gasped, “Go
where?
What are you talking about?”

Dare couldn’t seem to make himself move. If this all went wrong, if the intruders spotted Chris with that gun, they’d shoot him dead. Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
He filled his lungs, and tasted smoke. “You know I love you, Chris.”

Chris focused pain-filled eyes on him. “God, man, not now. I’ll live, I swear.” And then, grudgingly, he muttered, “But yeah, love you, too.”

That exchange only worked to further incite Molly’s fear. She grabbed Dare’s arm. “What are you doing? We need to get out of here.”

He peeled her hand away and guided it to Sargie’s collar. “Keep the dogs here for me. Do not let them go.” He couldn’t look at her; if he saw her expressive eyes, he’d falter. “Remember, there are two of them.”

He had to speak louder to be heard over the crackling of wood, the hissing as the fire consumed Chris’s home. Smoke billowed into the air and the flames licked the sky, sending an eerie orange glow to dance over everything in the immediate area.

He’d told Molly that he would keep the story quiet, but how could he do that now? He hadn’t counted on the crazy fucks blowing up Chris’s house. Even if the security system wasn’t set to alert the authorities, the fire would draw them.

Dare turned to gaze up at his own home just as two men stepped out. Black hoods covered their heads and faces. Seeing them kicked him into automatic pilot.

He knew what to do, and he’d do it.

Narrowing his concentration, Dare watched their bodies, how they moved, how they held themselves. He recognized George Wallace, the guard from Bishop Alexander’s home. The man had a distinctive stance and telling body language.

The other man he hadn’t yet met, but he knew his type and what he wanted, what he was capable of.

Each of the men held guns.

Without taking his attention off of them, Dare said to Molly, “Stay here with Chris. Do. Not. Move.”

He could feel Molly watching him, but she said not a word.

Sensing danger, both dogs went berserk. Molly hugged Sargie, restrained Tai, and tried to shush them.

With a groan, Chris repositioned himself, turning to get a good view but keeping mostly concealed behind the trees. “I got this, Dare. No worries.”

Nodding, Dare stood and stepped out into the open. He composed himself as he went up to the men. All the emotion had to be put aside. Rage, worry… He couldn’t think about that right now.

Deliberately, he went cold and hard. One step at a time, not racing but not hesitant, either, he closed the distance between himself and the two men who were now his targets.

They had broken into his home, had tried to kill his best friend and had possibly injured his dogs.

They were men who wanted to harm his woman.

Dare flexed his neck, his knuckles. The side of his mouth lifted in a deadly smile. He was ready.

Hell, he was more than ready.

George stepped forward. “That’s far enough.”

Dare stopped, his stance casual, unconcerned. “Where’s the third guy, George?”

His body quickened with surprise. “What are you talking about?”

“You thought I didn’t know? I recognized you right off.” Dare shook his head. “You are so fucking dead,” he told him and started walking again.

George lifted the gun higher. “Stop, goddamn it!”

Dare stopped, but only to say, “What do you want with her?”

Feeling in control again, George laughed. “It’s just a game. No one’s going to kill her.”

“So you’re playing with her? Why?”

George shrugged. “More like detaining her.”

“In Mexico?”

“Out of sight, out of mind.”

Knowing Molly was probably listening, but seeing no help for it, Dare nodded. “I see. So it is Kathi, huh?”

Both men went still.

Idiots. Bishop had suspected his wife after her ridiculous scene in the library. No, he hadn’t named her, but Dare had suspected her, too. Knowing Bishop likely had his own agenda, Dare hadn’t ruled out other possibilities.

But then he’d seen that most recent hateful letter from the post office. No return address, but the postmark showed it was mailed from within the same town.

“Fess up now,” Dare told them, “and I’ll let you go.” To give the lie credence, he showed his teeth in a semblance of a smile. “Otherwise, I turn you over to the feds.”

“Bullshit.” Though it was falling apart around him, George tried to bluster his way through. “You can’t do anything.”

“You know better than to believe that.”

He aimed the gun at Dare’s chest. “No one wants the woman killed. But you, you’re plenty fucking expendable.”

Dare’s expression didn’t change. “You’re already too late, you know.”

The man with George got antsy, taking his attention back and forth between George and Dare. “What’s he talking about?”

“Shut up,” George told his accomplice. He took a step off the porch toward Dare. “He doesn’t mean anything.”

“That’s not precisely true. The minute you fucked with my security, a report went out. Cops will be here any minute. On top of that, I knew all along that you were following me. When I stopped at that restaurant? That was just to give my friend a chance to follow
you
.” Dare looked beyond them and, as if he saw someone, said, “Right on time.”

The second man jerked around to face the new threat—and Chris shot him in the back of his shoulder. The impact of the bullet propelled him forward and into the back wall. He sank down to the ground.

George looked over at his buddy for only a second, and Dare charged him. George jerked up in time to get off a single shot, but the bullet only grazed Dare’s arm.

No way in hell would that slow him down.

As if they’d timed it, the skies opened up in a torrential downpour. Dare tackled the guard, and they both went down hard onto the porch. George’s head gave a satisfying thud against the concrete. The gun skittered out of his limp hand.

Another shot sounded, and Dare glanced over to see Chris standing there, soaked to the skin, the rain mingling with the blood to trail down his face. Though he wavered on his feet, he held the gun secure in both hands.

He’d shot the other man again to ensure he wouldn’t be a threat, just as Dare had always instructed him to do.

Using his elbow, Dare struck George in the jaw and felt the tension in his body slacken. Grabbing him by the shirtfront, he hauled him up to punch him hard, once, twice.

He wanted to kill the son of a bitch. The
need
to kill clawed inside him.

But he had promised Molly. And she needed the whole truth, every word of it. He couldn’t get that from a dead man.

With an effort, Dare pulled back.

George was utterly limp.

With his twisted sense of humor, Chris asked, “You done?”

“No.” Dare grabbed the hood and yanked it off of George’s bloodied and battered face. His nose was broken, his jaw already turning purple. “I’m just getting started.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

D
ARE PUSHED TO HIS
feet and looked at Chris. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.” He curled his lip. “But it’s not like I’d complain about a bump on the head or this freezing rain, not with you standing there all macho, a damn bullet in your arm.”

“Shit, I forgot about that.” Dare realized then that his arm was half numb, half aching. “It was just a graze, I think.”

Chris rolled his eyes—and almost fell over.

Dare looked around for Molly. Frozen, drenched, she stood several yards away—right where he’d told her to stay—with a hand latched onto the collar of each dog.

God love her. “Molly, come here.”

Even from the distance he could see her hard swallow. She started slogging forward through the downpour, half dragged along by the dogs.

“You can let them go.”

George stirred, regaining Dare’s attention. “There’s a third man with Trace, but just in case, don’t let down your guard.” Dare picked up George’s gun, kicked the other man’s gun out of reach, and then checked them both for any other weapons.

At the mention of a third man, Chris started scanning the area.

The dogs were subdued, upset, watchful. They crept forward, ears and heads down, body language showing their fear. They wanted Dare’s attention and couldn’t understand the circumstances.

Dare took a moment to reassure them both. “Good girl,” he told Sargie. He stroked Tai’s wet fur. “It’s okay, baby.”

Hugging herself, her eye makeup trailing down her face, Molly stood cold and silent, just out of his reach.

He started to go to her, but to do what? This was far from over, and now the whole world would know what had happened to her.

Would she be able to forgive him for underestimating the situation?

Trace came around the side of the house with another man in tow. The fellow’s face was bloody, one eye swollen shut, his hands bound behind him.

“He was the lookout in the car,” Trace said without much inflection. “He’s the one who told me about the bomb.” He pushed the guy to the ground to sit. “So. Everyone okay?”

It took a lot to rile Trace when on the job.

“Yeah, we’re all fine.” Dare felt freezing rain trickling down his back. As Molly had said,
fine
was a subjective term. “Where’s Alani?”

“Inside.” Trace glanced at Chris, whistled, and said, “You look like hell. Maybe you should join her.”

Gladly, Chris handed the gun over to Trace and turned to Molly, gesturing to her. “Come on, hon.” He gave Dare a mean look. “Let’s go get dried off.”

She blinked hard and fast, swallowed again.

Dare wanted to reach out to her, but he couldn’t touch her. Not yet. To Chris he said, “Yeah, take her inside.”

“I was already doing that, damn it.”

Chris was pissed at him and not trying to hide it. But then, Chris didn’t understand just how emotionally involved Dare was this time.

Molly unglued her feet from the mud and stomped up to Dare. Her bottom lip trembled, she made a fist, and then she thumped him in the chest.

Unsure what that was about, Dare caught her hand and held her still. “Go inside, Molly. Change your clothes. I’ll be in soon.”

She just stood there, looking equal parts furious and frightened. She shook her head and said, “Dare…”

Chris wrapped an arm around her. “Shh. Come on, now. He knows what he’s doing.”

“All this,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “All this because of
me
.”

Chris glared at Dare again.

Knowing he’d have to say something to her, Dare said, “That’s nonsense. Now go in.”

Trace lifted a brow. “Real smooth, Dare. I can feel the love from over here.”

George groaned, and half sat up.

Molly pushed away from Chris, saying, “I’ll go in, but you should help him.”

“Why would I help him? He took part in burning down my house.”

She slugged Chris, too, but not as hard as she’d hit Dare. “Not him, you idiot.
Dare
.”

Chris grinned, and it was a lopsided, ridiculous-looking thing considering the damage to his head. “Believe me, Dare doesn’t need any help with that trash. Now, come on. Alani is inside, and I know she’d like the company.”

“Go on,” Dare said to his girls. They, too, were soaked—but thanks to Molly, they were both alive and well. “Go with Chris.”

Chris called the dogs to him, and Molly, almost by rote, caught Sargie’s collar.

Dare said to Chris, “Call Henrietta. See if you can get her out here, the sooner the better.”

“I’ll tell her you’ll pay double,” Chris said. And then to Molly, “Henrietta is the vet, and her business hours are over for the day. But when I throw around Dare’s money, business hours mean nothing.”

Molly put an arm around Chris to help steady him. Sargie almost pulled her off her feet, and Tai, after one look back, caught up to Chris. They made a wide berth around the downed men and went in through the kitchen.

The strangest thing happened to Dare. He watched them all until they were out of sight, and he felt…whole. Complete in a way he never had before.

He had three men on the ground in front of him, one of them maybe dead, and still, it was the best feeling ever.

Trace looked at his arm. “Let’s wrap this up. You and Chris could both use a little medical attention.”

“Right.” With Molly out of sight, Dare grinned at the man Trace had contributed. “I have some questions first.”

“Fuck yo—”

Dare’s boot hit him in the ribs, and he doubled over, wheezing in pain.

George surged to his feet and tried to throw a punch, but Dare grabbed his hand and squeezed—and felt a few fingers break. George bellowed, and Dare was quick to wrap an arm around his mouth. “Shut up. You’re going to frighten her more, and I don’t want that to happen. Do you understand me?”

His face contorted in pain, George nodded.

“Good.” Dare let him go and helped him to sit back down. “Now, you can answer my questions, or I can break more bones. Up to you—and believe me, I’m fine either way.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Trace step to the side, his phone to his ear. His friend would call this in, but before anyone arrived, Dare would know everything. After that, the law could have them all.

O
NCE THEY WERE
inside the house, Molly went for several towels. She found Alani sitting stiff and frightened in the living room, and rather than coddle her, she said, “Come on. I could use your help.”