Men of Honour: Ready, Set, Jett / When You Dare / Trace of Fever / Savor the Danger / A Perfect Storm / What Chris Wants / Bare It All. Lori Foster
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held up a hand to silence the women. Sadly, that didn’t work. He supposed that he’d have to get used to Molly not following his every order, verbal or otherwise.
While the women continued protesting, Dare walked over to the window and did his own surveillance. He saw nothing.
Quietly, Jett said, “It’s just out of view, opposite side of the street, less than a block up. But does an old white van mean anything to you?”
Molly gasped.
Dropping the curtain, Dare took in her expression with sharp-eyed concern. He said to Jett, “Rusted?”
“It’s dark out, but I believe so.” Jett looked grim. “I could see the driver and a passenger, but the back windows are painted.”
Molly reached for a chair and dropped into it. Seeing her like this enraged Dare.
“I only really noticed them because the van is running, but they have the headlights off. They’re watching the building.”
Dare could barely credit that anyone would be that dumb. If her father had sent someone after her again, he must be desperate.
Anxious to check it out for himself, he headed for the front door.
“Dare, wait!” Molly bolted from the seat to chase after him. “It … it couldn’t be the same people as before.”
No reason to worry her more. “Probably not.” Dare gave a hard smile and opened the door. “Don’t worry.”
“Damn it, Dare!” Panicked, Molly charged after him. “Let’s just call the police.”
At the same time, Jett asked, “Need any help?”
Sighing with impatience, Dare said to Jett, “Yeah. Keep her in here. Got it?”
He looked very put out with the enormity of that task. “I’ll try.”
Trying wasn’t good enough. “Just man up and do it.” He gave Molly one stern frown and said in a tone that brooked no argument, “Stay put.”
She folded her arms and glared right back at him. “I’m not stupid.”
Meaning he was? But he saw the fear in her eyes and knew she was scared for him.
Fuck.
He went out the door anyway, saying to Jett, “Lock this behind me.” Face pale, Molly stepped back, her lips rolled in, her body tensed. The door shut and Dare heard the lock click into place.
Guilt punched at his heart.
But for Christ’s sake, he couldn’t falter every time Molly bit her lips. He knew what he was doing, and if she trusted him at all, she wouldn’t be worried.
It would have helped if he could put Molly from his mind, but that was like asking himself not to breathe. Since the day he’d met her, she’d occupied his thoughts in a severely distracting way.
As he’d told her to do, he was learning to live with it. Now … he almost liked it. Having her at the forefront of his mind was becoming a comfortable thing.
He liked having her there.
Going down the steps two at a time, Dare ensured the hallways and foyer were empty. Given it was the middle of the night, not another soul was in sight.
Peeking out the front door, he saw the van at the corner, idling.
Waiting.
As Jett had said, the vehicle was in shadow, hidden from the streetlamp and the bright moon.
In a few hours, the sun would be up and people would be coming and going.
Were they hoping to catch Molly? Or maybe just to verify her presence in the apartment?
He needed to get closer. Maybe he could ID the men, or overhear something important.
Dare pulled back to think. If he went out through the front door, he’d be seen. Damn it, he should have investigated the entire building. He knew better than to go into a structure blind. But his concentration had been on Molly.
Mostly on getting her under him. Damn.
Dare glanced around the foyer. Almost every old building had a basement, so he searched for the right door—and found it. Luckily, it opened in silence. The dank basement with its concrete floors and walls smelled like mildew and held a thick chill.
He wasn’t about to turn on lights, but the moon shining through a window guided him. Covered in webs and dead bugs, the rusted lock on the wobbly frame offered no real protection. The narrow window barely afforded enough room for him to hoist himself up and out. The casing scraped his spine, and his face met dry, brittle weeds outside.
He barely noticed.
Shooting to his feet, he circled the building and edged out along the side, using the shadows of the apartment building next door as concealment. Off in the distance, a dog barked. Cold wind rustled dry leaves and cut through his thin shirt.
Senses alert, Dare listened for any unnatural sound as he edged closer and closer to the street.
He detected the quiet rumbling of the van’s motor and the hushed drone of conversation inside.
Certain words pricked his mind: daughter and payment. They were incriminating words that worked to ramp up his instinctive protectiveness.
Without making a sound, he edged closer until he could see the license plates on the van. He committed them to memory.
The ringing of a cell phone made the driver curse. He answered with a sharp “What?”
Silence, and then, “She’s here. No, we didn’t see her, but there are lights on inside.” The driver waited, and then, “No one is going to see us. I know how to … Fine. Are you sure? Yeah, all right.”
He disconnected the call with a curse, saying to his passenger, “We’re done here for tonight.” Then he put the van in gear.
The urge to go after them ripped through Dare. He could reach them before they picked up speed. He could drag the driver through the window and beat some answers out of him. If there were more than two of them …
Through his nose, he inhaled a long, deep breath.
The smart thing to do, the unemotional thing, would be to wait. If he got hurt, who would look after Molly? Who would protect her?
He had the plates. It’d be better to get hold of Trace and have him find out what he could about the owner of the van.
Putting his head back against a brick wall, Dare let out the breath and tried to ease the killing tension. The adrenaline dump left him humming with the need for violence.
He couldn’t go back to Molly like this. The mention of the van had thrown her for a loop. She needed him calm and in control. She needed him to comfort her.
Somehow, he would manage that. But one word the driver said kept pounding in his brain: daughter.
For her own safety, he had to tell Molly that her father was likely the one who’d plotted against her, the one who’d wanted her hurt.
Dare still had to find out why. And until he did, Molly would never be satisfied.
Pissed off, more at himself than the situation, Dare reentered the building by the front door. Hell, anyone could walk in and out of the place. And her apartment door wouldn’t offer even a modicum of protection, not even to the dumbest criminal. And that damned fire escape …
Her apartment door opened right before Dare reached it. Jett stood there, a half-eaten piece of pizza in his free hand. “Didn’t go after them, huh?”
He shook his head and pulled out his cell phone. From the corner of his eye, he saw Molly sitting on the couch. She curled in the corner, her knees up to her chest, her arms around herself, her shoulders hunched.
Beside