Kitabı oku: «Men of Honour: Ready, Set, Jett / When You Dare / Trace of Fever / Savor the Danger / A Perfect Storm / What Chris Wants / Bare It All», sayfa 11

MOLLY KNEW SHE’D thrown him with the bombshell about her career. But she couldn’t hide her identity forever. What he said was true: if she wanted his help, and she did, then he’d have to know everything.

In good time.

The food was so delicious that she devoured it all—or at least what she hadn’t destroyed while fretting through her theories. Afterward, she felt fabulous. Well, maybe that was stretching things, but she felt more human than she had in too many days. That hollowness in her gut was now satisfied. She felt stronger, steadier.

Dare had remained silent until she popped the last bite of bacon into her mouth and settled back in her seat with a sigh. “Thank you.”

Flinty blue eyes, bright in the sunshine pouring through the window, scrutinized her. “You won’t be sick?”

She shook her head. “Nope. I feel fine.” And this time, it was true.

“Should I get more? Maybe some cake or pie?”

The courteous offer, in such a mild tone, was at odds with his expression. He looked harder than ever, more capable of deadly force.

She didn’t understand him, but she trusted him. “I’m full, but thank you.”

Surprising her with his lack of questions, he stood and headed for the door. “I already showered and shaved.”

“I slept through that?” Disturbing, but then, she’d been so exhausted…. “I’m usually a very light sleeper.”

“Extenuating circumstances,” he said. “You can have some privacy for … whatever. I’ll be back within the hour.”

He shut the door before she could ask him where he was going. She had the distinct feeling that she’d run him off. He was such an independent, skilled person that being around someone like her, someone so damned needy, would probably suffocate him.

Determined to withhold further complaints, Molly got up and went to the window to look out.

Usually, whenever she admitted to being a writer, the questions started. Where do you get your ideas? How long does it take to write a book? How much do you get paid? How did you get started? She heard them often, sometimes with disdain when people discovered that she wrote for entertainment, not to impress the literary world.

Used to be, people asked her why she hadn’t been on Oprah, or had her books been made into a movie, as if either was something in her control and easily accomplished. But with the recent movie deal, at least one of those questions had been replaced with another: Can I borrow some money?

Nearly everyone she knew wanted into her pocket. Friends she hadn’t known she had showed up with great regularity. And when they didn’t want money, they wanted an inside edge to meeting a celebrity, to hanging with the “in” crowd.

Molly snorted to herself. She hadn’t changed, but everyone now treated her differently.

Pushing open the window, she let in the fresh air. Their room faced the parking lot, and she saw Dare get into his rented van and drive toward Walmart again.

If she looked to the left, she could just see the turbulent ocean as it teased a sandy beach, sending surfers atop waves, and then crashing them down again. People in Windbreakers strolled with their leashed pets. Lovers walked hand in hand.

Molly sighed and decided she could use another shower while Dare was gone. Maybe with enough shampoo and conditioner, she could ease some of the gnarled snags in her hair.

Sometime later, while she still stood under the warm spray, she heard a knock on the bathroom door.

“Molly?”

He’d returned sooner than she’d expected—or she’d lingered longer than she meant to. “Be right out,” she called through the door.

“I got you some more clothes, so you don’t have to put the same ones on if you want to change.”

She chewed her lip. Yesterday he’d seen her in no more than a towel, but she hadn’t been capable of presenting herself any differently. Today, feeling stronger, she wanted to be less of an imposition on him.

“Just a second.” She stepped out of the shower, wrapped a towel around herself and cracked open the door. “You didn’t need to do that.”

His gaze dipped from her face to her barely visible right shoulder, and back up again. Handing in the bag, he said, “There’s more out here, but this ought to get you started. I stuck the toothbrush and toothpaste in there that I bought yesterday, too.”

Biting her lips in a long-standing habit, Molly nodded. “Thanks.”

He put a hand on the door, keeping her from closing it. “You sure you’re okay?”

Why her heart thundered that way, she couldn’t say. She did trust him. But now that she wasn’t so debilitated, everything seemed … different. More intimate somehow. “Almost like my old self.”

His eyes narrowed the smallest bit. “You still look shaky to me.”

A little, but that had more to do with talking to a big, powerful man while wearing only a towel than with her past ordeal. “Not at all.”

“You’re pale.”

Odd, since she felt flushed. “My natural coloring?”

He considered her a moment more and must have decided to let it go. “I’ll be here if you need anything.” He released the door and stepped away.

Breathless with some unidentifiable emotion, Molly closed the door, locked it with an audible click that made her wince, and dropped back against it.

From the moment she’d laid eyes on Dare, she’d been aware of his size, his strong shoulders, bulging biceps and broad chest. For her, his strength equaled safety. He’d proved a capable lifeline when she needed one most.

Now that she could think clearly and those awful shakes had mostly subsided … she saw him as a man.

And what a man.

Why hadn’t she noticed before how … how gorgeous he was? She was alone in a small hotel room with over six feet of sexiness. Windblown brown hair, piercing blue eyes, quiet control … Her heart continued to thunder.

She’d slept with him last night, curled tight along his side for comfort and security….

Oh, God.

Heat flooded her face, and she pressed her hands there. On the phone, he’d mentioned “his girls.” Did that mean daughters? Or maybe romantic involvements? And who had he been talking to? If he was in a relationship, had she inadvertently trespassed?

“Molly?”

Startled, she jumped away from the door. “Yes?”

“Are you going to finish your shower or not?”

Her eyes widened. Could he see through the damn door? Or was he just so attuned to everything and everyone that he heard her utter stillness in the bathroom?

She cleared her throat. “Yes, getting to it right now.” Then she frowned and added, “Turn on the television or something.” She didn’t want him listening to her every movement.

When she heard the TV turn on—loudly—she rummaged through the bag he’d given her.

Toothbrush and toothpaste! Absurdly excited, she ignored the clothes and went scouting through the rest of the items, finding lotion, nail clippers and an emery board, a razor, and better shampoo and conditioner.

God love the man. How could someone so gruff, so … deadly, also be so sensitive?

Thrilled, she climbed back in the shower with much of her stash. Unmindful of wasting water, she cleaned her teeth until her mouth felt fresh again. The shampoo and conditioner had a pleasing scent and went a long way toward making her hair feel less like a rag mop. She even shaved her legs, careful of the scrapes and uglier bruises.

By the time she finished her shower and dried off, her newfound energy had waned. But she wasn’t about to put on the new clothes he’d bought until she slathered on the lotion and clipped her ragged nails.

The clothes were similar to what he’d already brought her, just in different colors. Except for the panties; they remained plain white cotton.

Dressed, refreshed but tuckered out, she opened the door and stepped out to find Dare ignoring the blaring television as he stood to the side of the window, peering out. He looked suspicious of something, or someone.

Her heart tripped. Another threat? No—no, it couldn’t be.

Molly was about to query him when he said, without looking at her, “All done?”

She didn’t want to sit on the bed, so she went to the small table and pulled out a chair. Once again, he’d cleared away their breakfast mess. Dare did have a thing for order and cleanliness.

“I almost feel human again.” What did he see outside that window?

“Good.” He dropped the curtain and stepped back, then glanced at her. “We’re leaving here.”

“We are?”

With a nod, he said, “Today. I’ll see if I can get us a flight home, and if not, we’ll move to another hotel.”

A flight home? His home or hers? And then what?

Nothing had been decided. The threat to her existed as strongly as ever. Shaken and again uncertain, she accepted that something must have happened for him to react like this.

Or maybe he’d felt that spark of interest from her … and he wanted no part of it. Remembering his concern for his girls, Molly started to tremble. Who were they? Dare didn’t notice her reaction as he put in a call to “Chris” and gave instructions that she barely registered.

Was Chris his girlfriend? Or … more? She supposed Chris could be a male friend, or maybe just an employee or colleague.

She should just ask him—but his personal life was no business of hers.

Dare closed the phone, set it on the desk, crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her.

Her mouth went dry … until he said, “I bought the scissors you wanted. But before you use them, I want you to at least try to get the tangles out.”

IT ANNOYED DARE, THE way she insisted that she felt fine. Anyone could see that the remnants of her nightmare still dragged at her. He knew from experience that an emotional drain could be as bad as, sometimes worse than, physical exhaustion.

Silent, withdrawn from him, she ruthlessly tugged the wide-toothed comb through her hair. As much as Dare tried to ignore it, he … couldn’t.

Shoving away from the window and the beat-up red Ford truck he’d been watching, he stalked to her chair, pulled it from the table so he could get behind her, and said, “Let me have it.”

Twisting around to stare up at him, she asked, “What?”

“The comb.” He took it from her hand. “You’re just yanking through the tangles.”

Her eyes widened at him. “Because it’ll take all day otherwise.”

“You need to learn some patience.” Lifting a hank of hair, he started at the bottom and used his fingers to separate the biggest tangles, then eased the comb through, working his way up until that hank of hair was smooth. When he finished, he went on to the next section.

Frozen, too quiet, Molly never objected when the comb snagged and pulled. He needed to get her talking again. Before they left the room, he wanted to know as much about her as he could.

“You mentioned a boyfriend.”

“Ex.”

That implied a conflict—possibly big enough to account for an abduction and deliberate mistreatment? “Tell me what happened.”

She shrugged. “He wanted me to buy him rims for his car. I refused. We argued, and … things just fell apart.”

Unable to imagine that, Dare frowned. “Why would he want you to buy him rims?”

One shoulder lifted. “I’d gotten a big check from the movie deal, so I guess he figured I could afford it.” She tilted her head around to see him. “He wasn’t the only one who thought I should have been bestowing gifts. Actually, just about everyone thought I should share.”

“I don’t know about everyone, but your boyfriend sounds like an ass.”

“Ex.” Her laughter surprised him. “And I guess he is. But I didn’t know that until my career took off. Before that, he was generous and fun. It’s not like he’s a pauper himself. Adrian owns a bar, and it does pretty good.”

With the back of her hair now smooth, Dare moved to her side. “So, just out of the blue, he asked you to buy him things?”

“Sort of.”

He watched her profile as he worked through the tangles and saw her chin tighten in memory.

“We were heading home after lunch, and he pulled into this specialty shop, saying he wanted to look at some things. Car stuff bores me, but I went in and waited around while he and a salesman talked for what felt like forever. Then he came over to me and showed me the rims he wanted.” She shook her head. “I know nothing about rims, so I just oohed and aahed over them, you know?”

Dare nodded. “Patronized him.”

“Well … Yes, I guess.”

Dare didn’t fault her for that. “And?”

“He told me he couldn’t afford them. So I asked why we were there, then, and he got frustrated with me.”

Molly Alexander was an upfront, tell-it-like-it-is kind of woman. Subterfuge would be wasted on her. Imagining it almost made Dare smile. “You weren’t picking up on his cues.”

“Apparently not.” She moved suddenly, saying, “Really, Dare, I could finish this.”

He held the comb out of her reach. “You had your chance.” He liked to finish what he started. And besides, he was sort of enjoying it.

Resigned, Molly crossed her legs and arms and shrugged.

Prompting her, Dare said, “You argued over the rims? There at the shop?”

“More or less. When he flat out said that I could afford them, and he wanted them, I just laughed. I mean, what do I want with rims? It’s not so much that he asked me to buy him things, but how he did it. Just … demanding almost. And then he got furious, causing a big scene.”

Dare shook his head.

“It was ridiculous and embarrassing, and when I told him to knock it off, he stormed out.”

“Must have been an uncomfortable ride home.” Although he figured that in most situations, Molly could hold her own.

She snorted. “I wouldn’t know. I took a cab.”

“He left without you?”

“He was still railing when I left the store to follow him, so I refused to get in the car until he calmed down. Calming down wasn’t his priority, so, yeah, he left me standing there.” She let out a long breath. “And for me, that was that. Later, Adrian tried apologizing, but I’m not big on public humiliation.”

“Few people are.”

“There’d been little things before then, and it all added up. The scene in the car shop was enough for me to realize how his true colors had begun to show once I started making more money with my writing. I made a choice not to be used.”

At least she hadn’t been in love with him, Dare thought. A woman in love didn’t let a few money disagreements, regardless of how unpleasant they might be, end things. “All done.”

She ran a hand over her hair, then looked at the small pile of hair on the table, comprised of the knots they’d pulled free and had to remove from the comb.

“Looks like we killed a rat.”

He almost smiled—and his cell rang. While he answered the call from Chris, Molly tidied up again, then took the brush he’d bought and went into the bathroom. He heard the blow-dryer turn on with a loud whir. She closed the door to spare him the noise.

“What do you have for me, Chris?”

“Your ticket, plus one, leaving SDM in three hours on a private Beechjet with seating for seven. I know that’s quick, but you said ASAP, right? Can you make that okay?”

Chris knew to always lead with the details. “You checked out the pilots?”

“Yup. Squeaky-clean records for both of them.”

“Then, yeah, we’ll be there.”

“One of the pilots gave me his number, so take it down just in case. He said with what you’re paying him, he can be flexible.”

Dare shook his head. Chris took far too much enjoyment in spending his money. After he’d written down the pilot’s name and cell number and stowed the paper in his pocket, Dare decided to clue Chris in. “Just so you know, I’m bringing plus one home with me.”

Chris fell silent, but it didn’t last long. “No shit? A girl?”

“Woman.” Dare again looked out at the parking lot. The truck was gone, but he didn’t trust it. He sensed they were being watched, and he fucking well didn’t like it.

“And you’re bringing her here?”

Yeah, unheard of. He’d kept his home sacrosanct from his business, but…. “It’s complicated.” Molly was nowhere near ready to travel yet. The long trip back to Kentucky would be grueling for her. But right now, it was the only way he knew to keep her safe until he got things figured out. “She’s hiring me to protect her.”

“From what?”

Dare dropped the curtain and looked toward the bathroom door. He pictured her in there, worn out but determined to get her hair dried. She was an enigma with a huge problem.

He shook his head, more at himself than for any other reason. “Honestly, Chris, I wish to hell I knew.”

CHAPTER FOUR

WHEN MOLLY EMERGED looking like a different woman, Dare did a double take. Her hair was … really nice; not the plain brown he’d assumed but a light brown with red and gold highlights that looked natural instead of salon-created.

Seeing it semi-fixed, soft and curling around her face, altered her appearance drastically, giving her a very feminine edge that was only enhanced by the vulnerability still visible from her bruises and tiredness.

Who knew a woman’s hair played such a major role in her looks?

It was, Dare supposed, one of the many secrets to female routines. Not that he had a lot of experience with that, since he’d never been involved with any one woman long enough to dwell on her personal-grooming habits.

With the limited means at hand, Molly’s hair was far from polished, hanging loose and shining to just below her shoulders. As Dare stared at her, she tucked one side behind her ear.

To cover his surprise, Dare said, “We’re flying out in three hours.”

Her eyes flared. “Okay. But … going where, exactly?”

As if he dragged home rescue victims on a regular basis, Dare shrugged. “My place, first. I have a few things I have to do at home. Then I’ll accompany you to your place.”

Taking his words like a blow, she went to the bed and gingerly sat at the edge. “Oh. Okay.”

“I’ll be with you.”

She tried a smile that fell flat.

“Molly. You have to go back to your place sooner or later, right?”

“Of course I do.” She put her shoulders back in telling reaction. “I need to talk with my editor and agent. I have … plants to water.” She chewed her lip. “I need my flash drives and my own clothes and …” She shook her head. “Going back will be good.”

Had she considered refusing? Dare frowned, then retrieved the first-aid kit from his bag. Given his line of work, he carried a more extensive supply of medicines and bandages than what was found in an average first-aid kit. He dragged a chair over and turned it to face her.

When he sat, he looked at her and saw again that she avoided his gaze. “That’s it? Wholehearted acceptance, but no questions?”

She inhaled, expanding that impressive chest so that she filled out the oversized shirt. Her gaze skittered up to meet his. “You don’t seem real forthcoming with information, and I don’t want to do anything to make you regret your decision to stick with me.”

An upfront answer. He should have known where her thoughts had taken her. “You think you’ve been a big imposition?”

She eyed the first-aid kit warily, but didn’t mention it. “If not for me, you’d already be home, right? Instead, you had to deal with me and my problems. I don’t like being dependent on anyone, and I really don’t like putting you out.”

“Since we’re flying out today, I was only delayed one night. And if you mean the clothes and food—”

“Well, that and …” Her tongue flicked over her bottom lip with nervousness. “Sleeping with you.”

There was that. “You had a nightmare. Don’t worry about it.”

She glanced up and away. “Logically I know I’m okay now, but at night, in the dark …”

“Yeah.” He’d saved women before, but he hadn’t slept with them. Hell, he’d had sex with plenty of women without sleeping with them.

“Usually,” he said, “once I have a woman out of harm’s way, she goes immediately to someone else—someone she trusts. Most often it’s the person who paid me to get her out in the first place.” And if the woman had nightmares, well, she had someone other than Dare to get her through it.

Molly nodded. “And with me, you not only haven’t been paid, you’re sort of stuck with me.”

“Not stuck, no.” He’d made the decision that she would remain with him. He never allowed others to coerce him, not in any way. “But understand, Molly—for now, I’m going to keep you safe. After I figure out the threat and decide how best to resolve it, then we’ll come to terms on our agreement.”

“Financially, you mean.”

What else? He nodded affirmation, but said, “That, and more.”

“Such as …?”

He opened the first-aid kit. “If I’m going to be in charge of your safety, you have to follow my directions to the letter. No balking, no arguments.”

She licked her lips again—and nodded.

“Good. We’ll start with me checking out some of these cuts and scrapes that you have. The last thing you need is an infection.” He looked at her. “Give me your arm.”

As if only then realizing that she might have cuts, Molly looked at each arm. “I can take care of it.”

“I can take care of it better.”

“Who says?”

“I say.” Hadn’t he already proven his capability with her hair?

Dare caught her arm and pulled her forward to reach the injury. Ignoring her protestation, he said, “This’ll sting a little.” He swiped the cut with the antiseptic and heard her hiss in a breath, but she didn’t move and she didn’t complain. The cut wasn’t deep and didn’t need stitches, but he dabbed it with an antibiotic ointment and covered it with a bandage.

The procedure was repeated on a small spot on her other arm, and when he looked down at her legs, her toes curled.

“Dare, really …” He bent to a scrape on her inner thigh, and she said in a rush, “Shouldn’t I at least know your last name?”

Her high, shrill voice amused him. It wasn’t from fear that she nearly screeched at him. No, it was … something else. But definitely not fear.

“Macintosh.”

“Well, surely, Dare Macintosh, you will admit I can reach my own legs!”

She could—but he wanted to do it. Why, he couldn’t honestly say, but a small lie would work. “I need to know it’s done right, so just hush and sit still.”

Molly had sleek, shapely legs and small feet. Her skin, where it wasn’t hurt, was smooth and soft. He cupped the back of her knee and lifted her leg to treat what looked like rug burns. Since there’d been no carpeting in the trailer, he assumed the injuries were caused during her abduction. He wanted to know more about that, and would, soon.

He found two more deep scratches on her legs, and a cut on the side of her foot. As he treated her foot, he decided she’d need more than loose sandals to keep it protected.

He sat back. “Anywhere else?”

She rolled in her lips, released them, and gave in, putting a hand to the back of her neck. “I’m not sure, but there might be something here. It stung a little when I was showering.” Lifting her hair, she turned to show him.

Dare flinched in rage. Clearly, someone had choked her, given the finger marks on her slender throat. Above the faded bruising, a deep scratch showed.

Under his breath, but not softly enough, Dare whispered, “Fuckers.”

She swallowed. “The bruises are left over from when I was first taken. I didn’t go along easily.”

And so someone had choked her?

“They’re almost gone now,” she said, as if trying to reassure him.

“Not gone enough.” He touched her shoulder, and felt her shiver as he turned her a little more so he could better see.

While holding up her hair, she dropped her head forward, and the pose was so innocently provocative, and yet so trusting, that he felt himself stir.

Damn it, it wasn’t lust. What she made him feel was something more powerful than that—and more disturbing. He shook it off to concentrate on her injuries.

“How’d you get this scratch?” It looked deep, healed over a little, but still painful.

Her narrow shoulders lifted. “One of them wore an ornate ring.”

And the bastard had been manhandling her enough to cut her with it? Yeah, Dare decided, he’d be protecting her—but he decided against sharing solid decisions with her yet. He needed a lot more info, and it’d be best if she thought his compliance hinged on her giving full truths.

In his experience, too many people had secrets that could alter the outcome of an event.

Dare treated the scratch, but didn’t bandage it. “Done.”

“So …” She turned on the bed again, facing him as he replaced the chair. “You’ve made plans to leave.”

“In a few hours. Soon as we can get packed up, we’re out of here.”

She nodded, but hesitated. “I, um … Not that it matters in the long run, I guess, but … I feel conspicuous boarding a plane like this.” She held out the hem of the big shirt he’d given her. “Do we have time for me to just buy some jeans and maybe … a bra?”

His mouth firmed. Looking at her, he could see the need for the bra, especially with her nipples puckered, pressing against the thin cotton of the shirt.

Yeah, he could make time for that. If she knew they’d be on a chartered plane, away from any crowds, she might not think that shopping was necessary, but it wouldn’t hurt for her to get some shoes and socks, too. “We can spare about twenty minutes or so.”

“I promise I can find what I need in that time.” Hustling now, moving faster than he’d seen her move before this, she gathered up the few things he’d gotten her.

Dare nodded toward his bag on the bed. “Stow it in there.”

“What will you do about your weapons?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Chris had already cleared it with the pilots of the chartered plane.

In no time, they were checked out and leaving the motel. Dare scanned the parking lot but didn’t see anyone watching them. Making yet another trip to Walmart, he drove across the street and parked away from other shoppers.

Though she could no doubt afford to shop in a pricey boutique, Molly didn’t turn up her nose at the racks. She looked tired, but it didn’t slow her down as she located a pair of jeans, three pairs of socks, low boots, a bra, more underwear and a zip-up hooded sweatshirt in under the twenty minutes allotted.

She was a power-shopper—like him.

Impressed, Dare paid for the purchases and started back out to the lot with her.

That’s when he spotted the red Ford truck. Handing the bag to Molly, he steered her to the side of the front doors and said, “Stay here until I come back for you. Don’t move. Period. Do you understand me?”

“What? Wait.” She grabbed for his arm in a flash of panic. “Where are you going?”

Dare scanned the area, deciding on the best advantage. Through his teeth, he said, “Tell me you understand.”

She released her death grip on him. “I understand.” Fear put a quaver in her voice. “I won’t move from this spot.”

“Good girl.” Keeping his gaze on the truck driver, who hadn’t yet noticed them, Dare darted out alongside a driver looking for a parking place. Staying low, uncaring of what others might surmise, he used the parking-lot traffic to conceal him until he could get to the other side of the truck.

Using an SUV for cover, he checked to see that Molly remained near the front doors. The driver of the red truck stepped out. He’d spotted Molly, was looking right at her, and then he started searching for Dare.

The driver, a dark guy with black hair and mirrored sunglasses, held a cell phone in his hand. For backup, or to report to someone?

Darting from car to car, Dare positioned himself behind the unsuspecting driver, and then he stepped out and straightened. Luckily they were far enough away from the front of the store that most of the bustling shoppers wouldn’t notice them.

His heart beat slow and steady. His breath remained even; not too fast, not too shallow. He was in his element now, and he would damn well get answers.

Clearing his throat to draw the man’s attention, Dare watched as the driver shifted his balance in surprise. Before he could turn, Dare kicked out his supporting knee, but he didn’t let him fall. He grabbed his arm in a chicken-wing hold.

The driver cried out in mingled rage, fear and panic.

“Who are you?” Deliberately, Dare torqued the arm a little more. “Answer quick before I snap it.”

In Spanish, he muttered, “No one. I was hired, that is all.”

“Hired to do what?” And when the guy started to speak, Dare said, “In English, asshole.”

“Call when you left the store, so the girl could be retrieved.”

Ah. He’d told him to speak in English, and now that the man did, Dare didn’t hear an accent. “Who wants her dead?”

“Dead?” He shook his head. “All I know is she escaped when she shouldn’t have.”

And so someone wanted her back? But why? Dare released the man’s arm and jerked him around to face him. “Take off the sunglasses.”

“Fuck you.”

Moving so fast that the guy couldn’t brace for it, Dare hit him hard in the gut. The blow stole his wind, collapsing him forward as he wheezed. Dare knocked the sunglasses off his face and, with a hand knotted in his shirtfront, lifted him to his toes.

American, not Mexican. Dare’s jaw clenched. When he’d carried Molly out of the trailer, he hadn’t left behind any witnesses to recognize him. Someone must have checked in after that, and realized she was gone. Tracking down an American woman rescued from Tijuana would be tough—unless someone had the same level of contacts as Dare. “Who are you supposed to call?”

“I don’t know.”

“Bullshit.” The man briefly tried to struggle, but maintaining his hold on the guy’s shirt, Dare drew the knife and pressed it just beneath the bastard’s ribs. “You’re really blowing my patience, amigo.”

Very still now, his eyes wide at how hard that knife pressed into him, the guy spilled his guts. “Whoever had her wants her back. That’s all I know, I swear.”