Sonofabitch.
After all the other ways he’d wronged her tonight, he couldn’t bring himself to flip the book open. He tossed it onto the table beside the bed.
Dare blew out a long breath, figuring he might as well get comfortable. He rested his head on his fisted hand and closed his eyes, but then he caught the faint scent of her arousal still clinging to his fingers. As if he needed the additional reminder of what he’d done.
“Jesus,” he bit out. He shoved up from the chair and crossed to the bathroom. As he washed his hands, he met his own disapproving gaze in the dark mirror. She was so drunk that she puked and passed out, asshole.
He threw the towel onto the counter and braced his hands on the edge, his head hanging down on his shoulders. How the hell was she supposed to trust him when he’d taken such advantage?
Dare didn’t know. He only hoped she could forgive him. And it would start by his promising it would never happen again.
CHAPTER 10
Haven awoke on a groan. Her stomach was sour and unsteady, and a dull ache pulsed behind her temples. Her mouth tasted like a wasteland, and opening her eyes revealed that the world was still a little spinny around her.
A hand stroked over her hair. “Take this, sweetie.”
“Cora?” Haven croaked.
“Yep.”
Haven forced herself to look at her friend sitting on the edge of the bed. “What time is it?” And how had she gotten in bed? She didn’t remember coming up there last night.
“Nine,” Cora said. “Not too late. Here.” She held out a fizzing glass of water toward Haven. “It’ll help your stomach and your head.”
On another groan, Haven pushed herself into a sitting position and accepted the glass. She took a sip and grimaced. “Tastes so bad.”
“I know,” Cora said. “But in fifteen minutes, you’ll thank me.”
Haven sucked the fizzing water down in a couple big gulps, just wanting to be done with it. When she lowered the glass, she noticed she still wore her clothes from last night. From the party.
The party.
Drinking at the bar. Kissing Dare. Him making her come with his fingers. Getting sick.
“Oh, my God,” she rasped, pressing her hand to her mouth.
Cora placed her hand on Haven’s knee. “I’m so sorry I let you drink too much. I thought since Jeb made most of them so small, you’d be okay.”
Haven shook her head and waved her hand. “That’s not your fault and not what I’m freaking out about.”
Cora pressed her lips together, clearly trying to restrain a smile. “Freaking out about Dare then?”
Gasping, Haven nodded as the details started coming back to her. She didn’t know what to be more humiliated about—throwing up in front of him right after having one of the most amazing experiences of her life, or not remembering what happened afterward. “Wait, how did you know that?”
“Well, first of all, you left the party with him,” Cora said, her eyebrow arched. “And then you didn’t come back. But mostly I suspected that was what it was about because when I came in to check on you after the party, I found him sitting in that chair.” She nodded to the blue armchair in the corner.
Haven’s gaze cut to the chair. Now empty, obviously. “He was here?”
“He said you got sick and asked if I’d keep an eye on you. And then he left. That was around two-thirty.”
“What else did he say?” Haven asked, her mind struggling to process this information.
“Nothing,” Cora said, eyeballing her. “But he seemed, I don’t know, agitated. So I’m guessing there’s a good story involving the time between when you left together and I found him in here.”
Rubbing her lips, Haven nodded. And oh, what a story it was. The way he kissed her. The way he touched her. She’d never been so turned on in her life—and she’d never had an orgasm with a man before, either. It had been scary and thrilling and absolutely mind-blowing. If feeling like that was living dangerously, she was ready to sign up. Except without the puking and passing out, of course.
Cora grabbed her hand and gave her a little squeeze. “Um, dying over here.”
Haven wrapped her arms around her knees and tried to find the words. Heat flooded into her face. Screw being embarrassed, Haven! Just say it. “We kissed. A lot. And he ended up making me, um . . .” She made a vague gesture with her hands that no one in their right mind would be able to decipher.
But Cora’s whole face lit up. “He gave you an orgasm?” she yelled, not at all uncomfortable discussing sex—she had a lot more experience with guys and a lot fewer hang-ups.
“Yeah.” Haven nodded, hiding a grin behind her knees.
“And?” Cora asked, possibly wearing an even bigger grin.
“And . . . it was amazing. I wasn’t once scared he’d push me further than I wanted to go.” Her mind replayed their stolen moments. “Honestly, I’m not sure how far I would’ve been willing to go with him. But then, of course, I puked and got really dizzy, so I never got to find out.”
But just giving voice to the question had her gut giving her an answer. She would’ve slept with Dare. No, that wasn’t strong enough. As aroused as he had her, she would’ve jumped all over sleeping with Dare. And that wasn’t just the alcohol or her newly resurrected libido talking. Something about Dare lured her in—he was strong without being a bully, a leader without having a power trip, rough in all kinds of ways without being hurtful. She still found him intimidating sometimes, truth be told, but he also made her feel safe. So safe that she sometimes found herself telling him things she never volunteered to anyone else—some of it not even to Cora.
And she certainly couldn’t forget about the way he’d praised and defended her that day out on the porch. Just thinking about that moment made a ripple of excited appreciation go through her chest.
“Forget about the throwing up part,” Cora said with a wave of her hand. “I’m so freaking excited for you. Whatever is between you two, you deserve a night that makes you smile like this.”
The words pulled Haven from her thoughts. “I’m pretty excited for me, too.” Her smile sagged. “Although I guess I’m less excited when I hear that you thought he seemed agitated.”
Cora shook her head. “I’m sure he was just worried about you.” She gave Haven a reassuring smile. “Anyway, focus on the bright side, you checked a whole bunch of things off your list last night. You wanted to live, and you did.”
“I did, didn’t I?” Searching for her notebook, Haven found it on the nightstand. She opened it to the first page, scanned the list, and placed check marks next to everything she’d done. It was silly, she knew it was, but didn’t she deserve a little silly? Because she’d never been allowed to have silly or frivolous or just for fun before. “Hmm, should I give myself credit for kissing a lot of guys, since I kissed Jeb on the cheek?”
Tapping a finger against her lips, Cora hummed. “Tough call.”
Chuckling, Haven wrote a check mark next to it with a question mark, then she turned the page to the more Dare-inspired “to-do” items. None listed his name, but things like have an orgasm with a man had definitely popped into her head after she’d spent that night fantasizing about kissing him. Among other things. And that one got a check mark, too.
“Look at me go,” she said with a wry laugh as she closed the book and tossed it onto her pillow.
“For real. We’ve been on our own for just a few weeks and look how I’m corrupting you. You taught me math and how to cook, and I teach you how to get drunk,” Cora said with a wink. When Cora would come to visit after Haven had been forced to drop out of school, they’d work on Cora’s homework together. Haven had always been good at math, so it allowed her to feel like she was contributing something to their friendship and still getting to learn.
Haven shook the memories away. She was tired of walking the straight and narrow, and absolutely fed up with being scared to take some chances—because as much as throwing up sucked, i
t wasn’t anything like being backhanded, or locked in the shed out back, or forced to play waitress to her father’s rowdy weekly poker games, groping and lurid commentary included. So she was done being afraid to live. “Well, Cora, if this is being corrupted, then I don’t want to be good. Not anymore.”
“SON OF A bitch,” Dare growled, tossing his cell phone on his kitchen counter. He’d had a few people digging further into Haven and her father—and now Dare knew exactly what the fuck Haven had been hiding.
There was a reward out for her capture and return. A fucking reward. Initially set at fifty thousand dollars, it had been recently expanded to a hundred grand. A hundred grand that incentivized every lowlife scumbag from Georgia to God only knew how far to be looking for Haven Randall.
Which was likely why the Church Gang had picked her and Cora up in the first place. The description of the women and their truck, which thankfully was no longer in the picture as a possible point of identification, had been blasted far and wide. Some gangbanger probably thought he’d hit the jackpot.
Now the question was, had the Churchmen gotten in touch with Rhett Randall or his people? Were they, even now, in possession of information that could lead them to Baltimore? And, from there, to the Ravens themselves?
“Fuck,” Dare bit out, pacing in the silence of his kitchen. Anger and worry roared through him in equal measure. Haven had been at the compound for more than three goddamned weeks. If Randall knew that the Church Gang had had the women in custody and lost them, three weeks was plenty long enough for all kinds of pieces to be moved into place. Which meant the net could be a lot smaller than Dare had believed.
That reward changed fucking everything.
He grabbed his cell and jabbed at the speed dial number for Maverick. He cursed when voice mail picked up, then waited for the beep and said, “Mav, we’ve got a problem. I need the officers at the clubhouse as soon as we can get everyone together. Hit me back when you get this.” With every additional call he placed and voice mail he left, his frustration ramped up until he wanted to punch something.
He’d been out in the garage most of the morning trying to forget his fuckup from the night before by immersing himself in a rebuild he’d finally gotten some parts for, so he hopped in a quick shower, hoping it might take the edge off his mood. No such luck.
Problem was, there wasn’t anything likely to chase away the black cloud hanging over his head as long as he needed to confront Haven—and that was exactly what he needed to do.
No sense putting off the inevitable. Besides, he’d do them both the one kindness of having this conversation in private.
Normally, riding cured a lot of what ailed Dare. Love of riding was the one good thing his father had given him, the one—and only—way Dare didn’t mind resembling his old man. But today he felt like his bike was delivering him to the gallows.
Goddamnit.
Somehow he had to get his temper under control before he talked to her. He was pissed, and rightfully so, he thought. But that didn’t give him the right to scare Haven, and it was the last thing he wanted to do anyway.
He took the long, long, way-the-hell-out-of-the-way route to the compound.
The chop shop was hopping, but otherwise, the lot was pretty empty, which meant his other board members weren’t here yet. Just as well. It would give him time to talk to Haven and come up with the start of a plan to present to the others.
Inside the clubhouse, Dare was glad he didn’t run into anyone as he crossed the lounge and beelined up to Haven’s room. He gave her door a few hard thumps, and then repeated them against Cora’s door when Haven didn’t answer. Neither of them were there.
Where the hell were they? Dare spun on his heel and made for the stairs again when a thought crossed his mind.
Haven’s notebook.
He hadn’t read it last night because he hadn’t wanted to violate her privacy on top of all the other ways he’d failed her. But all bets were off now that Dare had confirmed that she was withholding important information—important not just for protecting her and Cora but for keeping his brothers and everyone he cared about safe, too.
Dare unlocked her door and slipped inside. The notebook lay on the pillow of the unmade bed. With none of the hesitation of the night before, he picked it up and opened it.
And hoped the news didn’t get any worse from there.
CHAPTER 11
Dare’s eyes scanned down the page. A list of some sort. He flipped through to the end of it, not yet making sense of what it was for. At the top, Haven had written:
To-Dos/To-Haves
Live Dangerously!
The second line made him frown. Living dangerously got people hurt, or worse. Just like what could’ve happened if Haven had been with the wrong kind of man last night when she passed out. Just like could still happen if they didn’t find effective ways to mitigate the risk this reward posed for all of them.
His eyes ran down the first few items, and then the first title of the list made more sense. This was a to-do list for Haven’s life. A bucket list. The thought set off an uncomfortable pressure in his chest. Her father had clearly denied her so much. So Dare had to give her credit for having dreams and goals. It had taken him a while after he’d come to his grandfather’s to feel safe, secure, and stable enough to start making any plans for the future. But here was Haven, a few weeks out from years of virtual captivity and already figuring out what kind of life she wanted to lead.
√Kiss a guy
Kiss a lot of guys! (√ ? )
√Have fun at a party for once
√Wear makeup
√Drink
Dare frowned as he took in that section of to-do items, most of which were checked off—and had probably been checked off last night, with him. Multiple reactions warred through him. She’d told him she’d never drank before, so did that mean all the things on this list were first-time experiences for her? And, if so, did that mean he was the first guy she ever kissed? And who the hell else had she kissed?
“Christ,” he bit out, sitting heavily on the edge of the bed. For the first time, a thread of guilt curled into his gut, because there wasn’t anything here that would help with this reward situation, which meant now Dare was just snooping.
But her words had snared him, and he couldn’t make himself stop reading. Some of the things she wanted to do were so . . . basic that Dare found himself shaking his head in disgust at her father. What kind of life did you have to have experienced to want to put making a mess and not caring on a life to-do list?
He turned the page, and his eyes couldn’t take in the words fast enough.
Ride a motorcycle
Learn to drive a motorcycle
Get a driver’s license again
√Have an orgasm with a man
Have sex. All kinds of sex. Everywhere.
“Holy shit,” he said, scrubbing his hand over his face and feeling even guiltier for continuing to read. But how was he supposed to walk away from the apparent knowledge that the orgasm he’d given her last night had been her first—with a man? Which of course suggested she’d had others that she’d given herself, and the mental image that plastered all over the inside of his brain had him rock hard in an instant. Especially when followed up by list items that had him questioning if she was a virgin and wondering if last night was her first sexual experience. Ever.
Because that rushed some serious protectiveness through his veins. And not a little masculine satisfaction. Annnd throw in some self-loathing, too. This was the list of a young person, bright and shiny and new. And he was a moody, hard-edged, guilt-ridden biker with demons too numerous to count and responsibilities that ought to be getting his attention.
He raked a hand through his hair as his eyes continued to devour the list. She clearly wanted to see the world (Go to the beach, See the Pacific, See a Broadway play, See the sun rise over the Atlantic) and have new experiences (Go to a dance, Go skinny dipping, Get a tattoo, Ride a horse, Go
to a concert). For a split second, Dare’s brain started making plans, thinking of how easily he could make some of these come true for her.
“What are you doing, Dare?” he said to the empty room.
Because just last night he’d decided to put the brakes on anything else happening between him and Haven, and that wasn’t very likely if he was going to spend a bunch of time with her making her dreams come true. For fuck’s sake. Not to mention, despite the way reading this had softened his anger—and softened it when little else had, which hadn’t escaped his notice—he was still angry. And disappointed that she’d felt she couldn’t trust him with the information about the reward. And worried about his people.
He skimmed to the end of the list, and the last item punched him in the stomach: Belong to someone, in a good way.
He couldn’t help but wonder when she’d written that. Or hope that she’d been thinking about him when she had. Fucking ridiculous, all things considered, but that didn’t make it any less true.
Damn, this woman had him tied in knots. He hadn’t felt this out of control in decades, and never before over a female. Not to mention, the first people he’d ever truly, deeply cared about had died, which meant he needed to keep his shit in check, because he wasn’t going through that hurt again. Ever.
A motorcycle’s engine revved right out front. Dare stepped to the window, hoping his brothers were starting to arrive. Instead, he found Jeb sitting on his bike, his body turned toward Haven and Cora, who were both laughing and talking animatedly. Haven grasped a helmet Jeb offered her and settled it over her long hair, braided down her back.
Ride a motorcycle
Aw, hell the fuck no.
Dare shot out of the room, nearly forgetting to put the notebook back where he found it. And then he was hauling ass through the clubhouse. The roar of Jeb’s bike told Dare he wasn’t moving fast enough, and sure enough, he made it out the front door in time to see Jeb and Haven shoot across the lot and toward the winding road that cut across Raven Riders land toward the racetrack.