When You Dare
Page 122

 Lori Foster

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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.”