Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Dare
T here was a man in a black jacket I didn’t like.
Everything about him, from the way he walked into the gallery to how he left his sunglasses on his face. And when he looked at the paintings on the wall, it was like he was staring right through them— as though they weren’t what he was looking for.
Athena had asked for space, and I understood. My hovering while she was trying to share her inspiration and process with guests interested in her paintings wasn’t ideal. I was growly, broody, and protective, but I couldn’t help myself. Especially because this guy made me skin crawl from themoment he’d walked into the gallery.
The room was a decent size. Large enough to keep a couple feet and a few people between us. He’d veered to the right inside the door, and I maneuvered myself into his shadow. One painting and then the next.
Maybe he was here because he loved art. He certainly took his time in front of each of Athena’s landscapes to give that impression. He stood and stared…and stared. But something still didn’t feel right about him. As he moved to the next one, my stare flicked to Athena. She was at the back of the gallery, chatting with an older woman, a blissful smile on her face—and I hoped like hell this was nothing more than me being paranoid.
He moved again, working his way closer to Athena. But also moving along the perimeter.
I looked for Harm, wishing I could tell him to go stand by Athena for a few minutes— or ask him if I was going crazy. But he was on the other side of the room, and I wasn’t willing to put even that short distance between me and this guy.
Another couple steps and the dark-haired stranger went to the next painting. The third before he’d reach the back of the room. And Athena.
I cleared my throat, my eyes flicking around the room, the crowd and closed space suddenly starting to feel like an ambush. My chest tightened, requiring a sudden strength to keep my breathing steady.
She was going to be fine.
What other danger could there be?
I repeated the questions in my mind the way I’d said them aloud a hundred times over the last two weeks.I didn’t care how many men were dead, it still felt like there was something missing. A loose thread taunting me, but I couldn’t find it to pull.
I thought—fucking hoped—this would’ve been easier. A week at Athena’s house—our house—without incident should’ve eased my fears. Maybe not completely, but more than this.
Sunglass guy stepped back and then easily glided around a small group of people to the next painting. Even the way he walked didn’t seem normal. Like he was used to moving undetected through crowds.
I didn’t like this. Not a fucking bit. Two more until he was at Athena. My pulse picked up. Fuck this. I was going to stop him and introduce myself. Figure out what the hell his deal was. And why he was staring at artwork through those damn sunglasses.
The second I turned, letting my attention settle on him in an obvious as fuck way, he spun in my direction. My hand went for my weapon and then fell to my side when he strolled casually by me toward the door.
Absolutely not.
I followed him. I gave him the lead through the gallery, wanting to avoid any kind of scene inside for Athena’s sake. His disappeared through the front door, and it had almost shut by the time I pushed it open again.
I stopped short, zeroing in on him as he unlocked a black Mercedes. He was leaving…and I was overreacting. I let out a heavy exhale, about to head back inside when he looked up at me—directly fucking at me. And smiled.
Fuck .
I whipped the door back open, my gaze snapping toward where I’d last seen Athena. She wasn’t there. I scanned the room. Fucking people everywhere—even the older woman Athena had been talking to—but no sign of my woman.
I moved like a tidal wave through the crowd toward my brother.
“Have you seen Athena?” I interrupted my brother’s conversation with a stranger I didn’t care about.
“What?” He looked over his shoulder. “She was just?—”
“Yeah, she was just,” I snapped low. “Double-check the gallery. I’m going to the back.”
My footfalls felt heavy enough to dent the floor as I went to the back of the room where the door led to the private part of the building.
“Glenn.” I grabbed the gallery owner’s arm, releasing it when I saw her wince. “I’m sorry, have you seen Athena?”
She blinked and then nodded. “Yeah, she just went to the back,” she said, and my shoulders sagged. “A previous client of hers stopped in to purchase some other paintings he’d seen before.”
“Before?” A chill gripped my heart.
“Yes. A Mr. Henry.”
Mr. Henry. Ryan Henry.
I stilled. The only reason Athena would give that name was because she was in trouble.The man in the sunglasses had been a distraction for whoever had approached Athena and forced her to go with him. And she’d given him Ryan’s name to warn me.
“Tell my brother,” I ordered and bolted for the back.
Glenn’s voice followed me as I yanked open the door labeled Private, pulling out my weapon as I hurried into the space. Empty. It was my first instinct, but my eyes whipped around the space.
“Athena?” I called, scanning the room over the barrel of my gun.
And then I saw it. The spilled yellow paint—and the footsteps leading to the back door. Two sets of them.
I took off, charging through the space in seconds and throwing open the door. As soon as I was outside, I saw her.
She was in a black sedan— driving— with Lloyd Wenner.
A thousand questions landed like a blitz. Wenner? How? Why? What had we missed? But their answers didn’t matter until she was safe.
“Athena!” I shouted, breaking into a sprint for the car.
“No!” I saw her mouth move—her expression—and it was like I could actually hear her scream before Wenner clearly shouted at her to drive.
She hit the gas, the sedan burning rubber onto the asphalt as she turned right in front of me and pulled out of the lot, heading out of town.
“Fuck.” I didn’t have time to get my brother. Didn’t have time to call Ty. I didn’t have time for any-fucking-thing except to go after her.
I headed for my bike. In seconds, gravel kicked behind the wheels as I tore out onto the road, my heart pounding in my chest.The wind burned my skin as I tipped over a hundred on the speedometer to catch up to them. My head craned at every passing road, afraid they’d turn off before I reached them, and with every second that passed that I wasn’t reaching the car, I worried I’d lost them.
I lowered the bike, taking the next turn dangerously fast in my frustration.
And then I saw her.
Jesus. The needle pierced one-hundred-fifteen on the gauge for me to catch them. She was flying.
My mind scrambled to figure out why. She knew I was coming for her. Wenner wouldn’t risk shooting her since she was the one driving. So why the hell was she speeding like she was trying to get away from me?
I picked up speed to catch them, but so did she, speeding to keep a distance between us. What. The. Fuck. I let off a little, settling at a hundred, and she slowed, too.
“ Slow down,” I muttered, my hot exhales of frustration filling my helmet.
I tried to slow again, but this time, she maintained her speed, so I quickly revved my bike to catch my original position.This stretch of highway ran along the ocean, so there was no way I’d consider shooting out a tire to stop the car when it risked sending her over the guardrail—and over a cliff.
Wenner must be telling her she had to drive this fast—to keep a certain distance. Or maybe she was afraid if I got close enough that Wenner would shoot me.
I wished I could tell her I didn’t care about getting shot again. I’d take every bullet that came my way if it got her out of his grasp.
Fear injected into my veins when we bared to the left and I saw the turns in the upcoming road. There was no way she could take them at the speed she was. She would have to slow down.
Except she didn’t.
The car careened around the first curve, the tires protesting with a squeal, and I swore violently.
Suddenly, the car lurched as she pressed on the brakes. It was only for a second. A second that brought me much closer. A second that I saw her gaze in the rearview. A second for me to recognize the look in her eyes—it was the same one she’d had that night under the stars.
Trust me.
Trust her for— fuck!
I let off the gas as she swerved wildly toward the center of the two-lane road. Jesus Christ. The car practically drifted around the upcoming sharp turn, disappearing from my sight for an instant. I floored the gas, racing around the hard left to catch up, and as soon as the car came back into sight, all I saw was red.
A red brake light and the smoke of burning rubber.
The car careened for the rock wall on the left, tires squealing to stop in time, and I was headed right toward them.
“Fuck!” I shouted, and instinct took over. If I tried to brake and avoid a crash, I’d end up over the handlebars. The only thing I could do was evacuate.
I launched myself from my seat, pulling my arms close as I dove off my bike. Of course, it was my injured side that took the impact first. I shouted, pain slicing through my shoulder as it connected with the asphalt. The impact tore through the fabric of my skirt and then through my skin. I heard a crack and knew something had broken.
But none of that mattered.I had to get to Athena.
Rocks ate through my palms as I stopped myself from rolling. Only my right arm worked to push me onto my knees.I turned just as the car veered to the right, trying to turn away from the wall. The back corner slammed into the rocks, sending the whole thing lurching.
And then came my bike. Metal and sparks sprayed down the pavement as it skidded toward the vehicle.
I saw Wenner in the passenger window. He shouted and then looked out at the bike sliding toward him—and then at me. There was only pure fear in his eyes.
He knew I wasn’t going to let him survive this.
I started to stand just as my motorcycle crashed into the back right tire of the car with impressive speed.
And then all I saw and heard and felt was the boom.
Everything was ringing. Spinning. Hot smoke filled my first deep breath and oxygenated my body with pure panic.
“Athena!” I shouted and sat up.
Everything hurt. Everything burned.
My bike was obliterated. The car was in deconstructed pieces strewn over the road.
A bomb.
My bike had been a bomb…and she’d forced me from it to save me.
My heart strained to beat. Its lumbering thuds were the only thing I could hear over the ringing in my ears from the blast.
I pushed myself upright. The world tilted with every step, threatening to open up and swallow me whole, but still I kept moving—stumbling to the wreckage.
This was why she’d kept her distance—to keep me out of range of the detonator.
My lungs worked not in breaths but only to inhale strength and shout her name. I needed her alive. I needed her to survive.
Half of the car was completely gone. Mostly the back and stretching to the passenger side where my bike had hit it. Small fires oozed destruction from various parts of the remaining frame, burning my nostrils with smoke.
She had to be alive.
I reached the car.In the passenger seat was Wenner. Still recognizable but definitely dead. In his hands were a gun and the half-melted remains of a detonator.
And in the driver’s seat was Athena, slumped forward over the airbag, her arm limp like she’d tried to shield herself from the blast.
“Athena!” I called to her, realizing the only way to reach her was by climbing on top of the hood. The driver’s door was pinned by the wall, and the passenger side was blocked by Wenner’s body.
I scrambled to the front, seeing flashing lights and familiar bikes appearing from around the fateful turn.
“I’m coming, Angel.” I climbed onto the hood, cursing my left arm that was dislocated and fucking useless. “Athena.” I crouched at the windshield, the glass completely shattered from the accident and explosion.
“Dare!” Harm shouted and rushed toward me.
I ignored him, reaching for Athena’s wrist.
“Athena, please wake up,” I begged, feeling for her pulse.
The soft flutter at her wrist was both everything and not enough. Alive but not awake.
“I’m going to get you out of here,” I muttered. The broken glass cut into my shoulders and back as I squeezed through the windshield opening. I ripped the seat belt from its moorings and started to work my good arm under her torso.
“Jesus, Dare. You need?—”
“To get her out of here. I have to get her out.” I didn’t even look at my brother, but I heard him climbing on the hood.
“I’ve got you,” I murmured to Athena, hoping she could hear me. Praying.
A surge of pain broke through the adrenaline when I tried to lift her.
“Fuck,” I hissed, wishing like all hell my left arm was injured any other way. Broken, bleeding, or burned, it would’ve still moved.
“Dare, I need you to grab her waist,” Harm ordered, his tone like a whip the way it cracked me back to our unit days. And I obeyed. I always obeyed.
I moved my hand down her back while Harm grabbed underneath her shoulders.
“We lift on three,” he said, and I fisted as much of her jeans in my one hand as I could, seeing the blood run down my arm. “One. Two. Three ? —”
I let outa roar, pulling with all my might. And then she was moving—gliding out of the car and up into my brother’s strong hold .
“Athena,” I murmured as soon as her weight was gone, each gasping breath like a hundred knives burying themselves in my lungs.
I didn’t feel the cut of the glass when I climbed back out of the car. I moved off the hood, everything underneath me moving like a buoy in the middle of the storm. Tipping. Turning. Swaying.
My feet landed on the ground, and I looked for her. She had to be okay. That was all I needed. I could survive every other injury thrown at me except losing her again.
“ Dare!” Harm was yelling. “ Look at me.”
My vision swam, but I aimed for the sound of his voice, and there, through the blur, I saw Athena’s blond hair and her red blouse in my brother’s arms, the flickering ambulance lights behind him.
Thank God.
“Save her…” was all I managed before the world went dark.