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 f**ks 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 f**king 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 f**king 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 f**ked 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.