Page 27 of Bad Business

The car ride to the house is quick, but as soon as we get closer to my house, the hairs on my neck seem to stand as if being electrified. Dallas also seems on edge, making my hackles go haywire. As we make the final turn onto my street, I notice two things at once.

The first is that the house is dark, which isn’t always unusual, but lately, we’ve asked Kara to keep at least one light on. Second is the odd car parked against the curve near Daniel’s, the bodyguard his brother hired.

As Dallas pulls into the driveway, he kills the engine and turns toward me. “Stay here while I see whose car that is.”

“Nope. No way. I’m coming with you.” I climb from the seat before he can argue and meet him around the backside.

There are moments in my life I wish I could go back and do—this is one of them. The moment we near the vehicle, it’s clear a woman is still inside. My body stiffens at the sight, and I clutch Dallas’s arm.

“What the fuck? Is that Clarissa?”

Suddenly, he stops, his eyes widening in shock. I follow his gaze and gasp. There, slumped in the driver's seat, is Clarissa. Her lifeless eyes stare blankly ahead. Blood stains her blouse, a dark, spreading pool beneath her. The sight is horrifying, and for a moment, I can't move, my mind struggling to process the scene before me.

Dallas snaps into action, his voice sharp and urgent. "Willow, get to the car and call the cops. Now!"

His command is clear, but I barely register it, my legs moving on autopilot as I take a step forward, my gaze locked on Clarissa's vacant eyes.

"Willow!" Dallas's voice breaks through my stupor, but instead of retreating to the safety of our car, I find myself propelled forward by a surge of adrenaline. Ignoring Dallas's frantic protests, I rush through the yard, my feet pounding against the grass, the cold night air stinging my face. Every instinct screams at me to get to Juniper, despite the risk. I reach the steps and take them two at a time, my breath coming in ragged gasps.

The front door looms ahead, slightly ajar, and a terrible sense of dread washes over me. I push it open, the hinges creaking ominously, and step inside. The scene that greets me is like something out of a nightmare. The bodyguard, Daniel, lies sprawled on the floor. His usually imposing frame is now disturbingly still, a dark stain spreading across his shirt. His eyes are closed, and I can't tell if he's still breathing.

"Daniel!" I scream, dropping to my knees beside him. My hands tremble as I reach out, pressing my fingers to his neck in search of a pulse. There's a faint, irregular throb, and I let out a shaky breath of relief.

Dallas bursts through the door, his face a mask of fear and fury. "Willow, I told you to stay in the car!" he shouts, but his anger quickly dissolves into concern as he sees Daniel. He drops to his knees beside me, his hands moving expertly to check the wound. "Stay here. I need to look for Juniper and Kara," he says, his voice steady despite the chaos. “Sweetheart, please, I need you to call the police.”

Hearing his words, I take the phone from his outstretched hand. “Please… where’s Juniper?”

“I’ll find her. Keep pressure on his chest, baby.”

I lean into Daniel’s wound as I dial 911. “There's been a shooting. Two people are down. We need an ambulance… now! Please… oh my God… where’s my baby? Dallas!” I scream, completely oblivious to the operator’s questions.

Part of me wants to follow after Dallas, but I don’t. Daniel doesn’t deserve to be left to die. And deep down, I know Juniper is gone. Whoever did this took her. I close my eyes and pray Kara isn’t dead, too. I can’t live with myself if she’s gone because of the danger I brought to her doorstep.

“Willow.” Dallas drops beside me, an unconscious Kara in his arms. “She’s alive. I think they hit her with something. Her head is bleeding.”

“Juniper?” I whimper.

He shakes his head, fury radiating off him in waves. His anger is so palpable, it's nearly suffocating. Tears blur my vision as I look at Kara's limp form. I press my hand against her cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin, a small sign of life.

"Why?" I say, my voice trembling.

“I don’t know, baby, but we’ll find out who did this,” Dallas answers, his jaw clenched tight. “I promise.”

I glance down at Daniel, who still remains unconscious. His breathing is shallow, and the bleeding seems to have slowed some. My mind races with fear and guilt. How could this have happened? How could I have brought this danger to those I care about?

The sound of sirens in the distance is a small comfort, but it does little to ease the terror gripping my heart. I squeeze Dallas's hand, drawing strength from his presence.

"We'll find her," I whisper, more to myself than to him.

12

DALLAS

It’s been hours since we came home to this nightmare. I’ve dealt with some pretty dark shit in my life, but this feels like someone reached inside my chest and ripped out my heart. I want to break something, but seeing Willow already broken keeps me from destroying the house. The police presence finally died down, and they promised to be in touch… but I’m not waiting for them to do something.

Instead, I swallowed my pride and called Drake. I was shocked when he said he was coming—we’ve only done this family thing recently. It’s not something I’m used to from him. I’m even more shocked that he brought an army of people with him. In the last two hours, I’ve learned that blood is definitely a bond you can’t ignore. My half-brothers, Drake and Roland, are sitting across from me. Their wives, Rhiannon and Isabella, or as I’ve learned goes by Izzy, and Addison, my brother Ryker’s wife, have taken charge of Willow—to keep her from having another panic attack. Seeing her crumble nearly broke me. The paramedics offered to take her to the hospital, but she refused. Now, I glance over at her, wedged between all of my sisters-in-law on the couch. The sight is surreal, and it creates a feeling in my chest I can’t explain.

My own brothers, Ryker and Griffyn, sit beside me at the table.

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