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 f**king 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.”

She shook her head, not understanding him.

He looked back to Tai. “I scared you.”

“No.”

The look he gave her said liar. And that hurt.

Defensive, Molly shrugged. “Okay, you did. Just a little. But not like…not like I was afraid for me. I would never, ever fear you that way.”

“Then how?”

“You were like a…a machine.” She put both hands to his face, holding him, wanting him to know the truth. “You somehow took the love you have for Chris, and you turned it on those men. Not in an emotional way, but it was so…cold.”

“Methodical,” he corrected.

“Yes.” She licked dry lips. “That you could…refocus like that, that’s what scared me.”

“It’s necessary for the job I do.”

But that type of power meant he could shut out anyone and anything. How could he ever really care for a woman if he could so easily turn his emotions on and off?

Scowling, he said, “If I hadn’t—”

She nodded. “I know.” She even managed an uncertain smile as reassurance that she did understand. “I’m so very glad that you’re okay.”

Disregarding the injury to his arm, he reached for her, hugging her so tightly that it took her breath.

“Dare?”

In a flat tone, he told her, “It’s over.”

She froze.

“It was your stepmother, honey. All of it. Some twisted, sick idea of protecting Bishop from your growing popularity.”

“Kathi?” She shouldn’t have been surprised, but… A strange relief overtook her. “So it wasn’t Dad?”