When You Dare

by Lori Foster

  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

  DARE 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 thu
mped 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.

  ONCE 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.”

  Alani jumped to her feet. “What’s happening?”

  “Dare and Trace have the men…subdued. It’s fine.” After they gathered up several thick towels, she led Alani to the foyer, where Chris and the dogs waited. “Help me dry them.”

  Alani took her arm. “I’ll handle the dogs. You should go change.”

  Molly looked down at herself and winced. The cold had seeped into her bones, and she wondered if she’d ever be warm again.

  “Go on,” Chris told her.

  “Let me help you change first.” She put her arm around him again. “Dare’s clothes will fit you.”

  Chris tried to object, but she didn’t let him. He held it together, but anyone could see that the knock to the head had hurt him badly.

  In Dare’s bathroom, she stripped off Chris’s shirt and gave him a crewneck sweatshirt to wear.

  His black hair was plastered to his head, in some places stuck with blood. His blue eyes looked vague. And still he teased, saying, “Touch my shorts and we’re going to have a problem.”

  “Modesty?” Molly asked, pretending everything was normal, instead of chaotic and insane.

  “No one has changed my pants for me since I was five.” He leaned against the sink. “Go on and get yourself changed. I can do it.”

  Molly nodded. “Tell me before you come out, because I’m going to change, too.”

  “I won’t peek if you don’t.”

  She found a half grin over that, but honestly, she was so cold and scared, and so devastated, that she felt anesthetized.

  She’d just finished pulling on one of Dare’s big flannel shirts and a pair of the shorts he’d bought her in San Diego when the dogs came running in. Alani had done a good job at drying them, but Sargie’s eyes were still too red and her fur showed signs of smoke.

  Molly’s composure almost cracked. “Poor baby,” she whispered and went down to her knees to hug the dogs again.

  Chris asked, “You dressed?”

  Alani answered for her. “Come on out.”

  Now with them all relatively warm and dry, Chris sat on the bed and used the phone to call the vet. It amazed Molly how he teased with Henrietta and coerced her into a house call without really telling her anything that had happened.

  When he hung up, Molly said, “Shouldn’t we call the police?”

  “The security alarm does that automatically. But if they get here too soon, the bastards will call their lawyers and Dare won’t be able to get the info he wants.” Eyes closed, he dropped back on the bed. “Let Dare find out what’s going on while he still has the opportunity.”

  Sargie leaped up onto the bed to snuffle around Chris’s face until he gave up and sat forward again. Molly started to say more when they all heard the sirens.

  “Shit. That sounds like the fire department. Someone must have seen the smoke.” Looking steadier by the minute, Chris pushed off the bed. “I have to tell Dare that his time is cut short.”

  Dare stepped into the bedroom doorframe. “No need.”

  Molly shrank back. Dare…didn’t look like Dare. There was a vibrating tension about him, a set to his mouth and harshness in his gaze that was more dominant than anything she’d ever seen. He’d wrapped his shirt around his injured arm, leaving him in a soaked T-shirt and sodden jeans.

  He looked rugged, capable.

  Deadly.

  And he’d shut her out.

  She felt like a stranger to him. It ripped up her heart to think of how hurt he and his friend had been, all because of her.

  Alani didn’t seem to notice Dare’s dominant manner. She went over to him and hugged him tight, totally at ease with him in this strange mood. “Where’s Trace?”

  “Keeping watch on our goons.” He kissed her forehead. “Why don’t you and Chris go start some coffee? We could all use it.”

  Alani looked back at Molly and, with understanding, nodded her consent.

  The dogs bounded off the bed and went to him. Dare knelt down to give them the attention they so badly needed from him. His gentle tone, filled with sympathy, went a long way toward calming the dogs.

  Molly needed attention, too, but…she didn’t want to force herself on him.

  The fretting was awful, unbearable, so she asked in a whisper, “Did you kill anyone?”

  “The one Chris shot might not make it.” He looked up, considering her for only a moment before adding, “And don’t you dare feel bad about that.”

  She bit her lip. “Okay.”

/>   Grudgingly, or so it seemed, Dare said, “The other two should be fine.”

  Her chest hurt. “You’re okay?”

  “Yeah.” His gaze was direct, intense. “You?”

  “I’m fine.” Sliding off the bed, she went over to him. He stayed down on one knee with Sargie squeezed up against his chest and Tai lolling on her back to get her belly rubbed.

  With him looking down at the dogs, talking softly to them, Molly could see the nape of his neck, the breadth of his shoulders and the muscles in his back. She put a hand in his wet hair—and her knees almost gave out. Trying to make her voice strong, she asked, “You were shot?”

  “Bullet grazed my arm. It’s nothing.”

  Still smoothing his wet hair, she sank down beside him. She wanted to grab him, kiss him all over and beg him to…what? She just didn’t know. Everything felt so uncertain now.

  Already, blood soaked through the shirt wrapped around his “nothing” injury. “You need to go to the hospital.”

  He turned his face so that her hand was on his jaw. “Trace called paramedics for the guy Chris shot.” His gaze locked on to hers again and held her captive. “They’ll be here any minute.”

  I love you. She wanted to say it so badly, but this wasn’t the time. They’d soon be overrun with cops and other emergency personnel. He needed medical care, as did Chris. The dogs were still frightened.

  There were a thousand reasons not to burden him with her emotional excesses. But oh, God, it was hard keeping herself in check.

  “Thank you, Molly.”

  Drawing in a shuddering breath, Molly whispered, “For what?”

  He rubbed Sargie’s ear, pulled the dog close to kiss her head, hug her into his chest. “You saved her.”

  His voice sounded strained, thick. “You would have done it. But with Chris hurt…”

  His chest expanded. “When I saw you go into the house…” Breathing hard, he squeezed his eyes shut, and his voice went harsh. “I’ve never been so fucking terrified.”

  He sounded angry, sending regret to churn with the rest of her overwhelming emotion. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t.” His eyes flinched. “You have no reason to apologize. Hell, I should be apologizing.”