When You Dare - Lori Foster [77]
Without meaning to, without even trying, Molly fucked with his performance, demolishing years of skill and training.
She was dangerous, and he wanted her too much to care.
“It must be nice,” she said, surprising him with her acceptance of the darker side of his life. “To not be afraid, I mean.”
There it was, the reason for his restraint with her. For the rest of her life, Molly would remember what she’d suffered, and she would fear things that she hadn’t, until recently, known were possible. “You’re a nice woman, Molly. I wouldn’t want you to change.”
“I think you’re nice, too.”
If vipers could be considered nice.
It was important to him that she understood one crucial aspect of his ability. “I can kill with my bare hands. Knowing that makes me more effective in a fight because having that ability usually lets me end things without deadly force.”
“You don’t kill unless you have to.”
Or when he knew the world would be safer without someone left alive. But that was a point he could make later—if they had a later.
Dare held her gaze. “Does that satisfy your curiosity?” It sure as hell didn’t satisfy his.
“About your work, yes.” She kept her distance. “But I’d like to know more about you. How you got your start, the things you enjoy, the day-to-day stuff.”
Too much curiosity would be dangerous. “You want the bare bones of my life?”
Measuring her words with care, she said, “I want whatever you’ll share with me.”
His mouth twitched. It was a little late for her to worry about seeming nosy, but he still appreciated her good manners. “When I was seventeen, I joined the service.”
“But that’d mean you were a minor. Is that allowed?”
Dare shrugged. “With parental consent, yeah.”
She looked appalled that anyone had agreed to his enlistment.
“It was a good decision, Molly, one of the best things I ever did. Everyone realized right off that I had a knack for defense and for following through.” He pulled off the gloves. “If that meant killing someone intent on harming me or others, then that’s what I did.”
She said nothing to that. Dare set the gloves aside and braced his hands on the bench. “But, Molly, understand that I detest bullies and needless violence. I would never harm an innocent or watch someone else cause harm. Whenever possible, I avoid all physical conflicts. I have no problem at all walking away from a fight—when walking away is an option.”
“You killed those men in Mexico.”
“Yeah.” She hadn’t said it as an accusation, but as confirmation. “But, Molly?”
She looked at him with big, dark eyes.
“That was before I saw what they’d done to you. You aren’t responsible for any of that.”
She bit her lips and nodded. “I’m sure you did what needed to be done.”
Dare felt strangled by her trust. His fingers curved around the bench, gripping it hard. “They had taken Alani.”
“I know.” She sounded far too gentle, and far too understanding. “You told me that she’s like a sister to you.”
Shit. He didn’t want to explain emotional entanglements. But he still heard himself say, “She and Trace are more like family than my real family is.”
She thought for a second, then asked, “Do you see your parents often?”
Dare shook his head and relaxed a little. He could talk about this, about his parents, without the sentiment. “Dad died in a small-plane crash years ago. Mom is remarried and living in Michigan. I visit with her a couple of times a year.”
“You’re not close?”
“Not really, not since Dad died.” He shrugged. “We get along fine, mostly because we don’t see each other real often.” He waited for her to dig into that, and he had no idea what he’d tell her.
How could he make her understand that he’d always been a loner? His mother hadn’t been the same since the plane crash,