Dare didn’t know which was worse—the desolation that had put out the light in Haven’s eyes during his conversation with her back at the lake, or the expressions on his brothers’ faces as he’d brought them up to speed regarding Haven and the reward. Both left him feeling like somehow he’d fucked things up and, no matter what, was letting someone down.
And the fact that not letting Haven down ranked anywhere close to not letting his fellow Ravens down? That said something. What, exactly, he wasn’t sure. Or maybe he just didn’t want to probe it too closely.
“This changes a helluva lot,” Maverick said, concern furrowing his brow. “I think we gotta assume that the threat is imminent. Which means we can either sit here and wait for it to come to us, or we can neutralize it by going on the offense or setting up the women with new lives far away from here. Which protects them and us.”
“Going on the offense isn’t really our style,” Doc said, concern deepening the lines on his weathered face. “And do we really think the club is up for waging war on some far-off crime family within weeks of what went down in Baltimore?”
Dare heaved a deep breath. Doc was right on both counts—the Ravens didn’t object to violence and even lethal intent in the name of defending their own, but they tried like hell not to be the ones to start shit or to create unnecessary enemies. It was part of what made them different from the Diablos.
Caine’s eyes narrowed as he looked at his brothers seated around the big meeting table. “Procuring quality documents and making all the necessary arrangements will take the better part of two weeks. Ten days at best. So it’s not really an either-or scenario. We need to plan for the threat and figure out what comes next for Cora and Haven.”
Nods and low words of agreement rumbled around the table.
Purchasing new identities wasn’t something they did often, but they had done it a handful of times over the years in the most dire cases, when the system failed a client altogether and their safety couldn’t be secured any other way. The thought of this as one solution had crossed Dare’s mind, too. But he’d be lying to himself if he didn’t admit it fucking hurt in unexpected places to think of Haven becoming someone new, someone he couldn’t know or see or touch. Ever again.
Probably made him a selfish bastard, especially after the way he’d jumped all over her back at the lake, but that didn’t make it any less true. Not to mention, a new burr had settled itself under his saddle on the torturous ride back to the compound—he’d gone on the attack over her lie of omission, and he still felt some justification in that, despite the fact that part of him had understood her rationale for holding out on him. But at the same time, he was keeping something from her now, too. That he knew about her notebook. That he’d read it. That part of his behavior today had been about wanting to help her check things off her list—wanting it to be him, specifically, to give her those experiences.
Yet he hadn’t admitted any of that. Which made him a goddamned hypocrite, didn’t it?
All the more reason it was probably better for Haven—and for all the people he was supposed to be taking care of—if she was gone and Dare got his head screwed back on right again.
Because right now, he was fucked.
“In the meantime, the two of them shouldn’t go out in public without at least two of us with them,” Phoenix said, his hand scrubbing over the scar from a knife fight that had nearly taken his eye. “Actually, trips into public should be limited period. Oh, and I hate to say it, but Haven’s hair is too fucking unique. You should probably have her change it.” Phoenix directed those words to Dare, as if he held some special sway over the woman—which meant his brothers were probably keyed in that something was going on between him and their client. Fantastic.
Dare worked to keep his expression a careful neutral at the thought of making her change one of his favorite things about her, of making her change at all. Given how she’d lived these past years, how she’d been forced to play a role for so long, he hated that he was going to have to ask her to do it again.
Dare just nodded, knowing the precautions Phoenix suggested made good sense. “I should have images of Randall and some of his known associates tonight or tomorrow,” he said. “As soon as I do, I’ll shoot them around. Phoenix, let’s get them into the hands of our contacts to see if anyone’s seen these assholes in our backyard.”
“You got it,” Phoenix said.
Thoughts of the photos brought a new idea to mind. “Meanwhile, I’ll put in a call to the guys over at Hard Ink and see what help they might be able to offer.” During the weeks they’d worked together, Dare had seen enough of the former Special Forces soldiers’ investigational techniques, computer savvy, and willingness to stray to the wrong side of the law if it meant achieving a greater good to know their help might be invaluable. Anyway, they owed the Ravens. And this was as good a reason as any to call in some favors.
“We’re not thinking this sitch should cancel next Friday’s race, are we?” Jagger asked, his fingers tapping out a rhythm on the table.
“Shit,” Dare said. He really didn’t want them going without their racing income for yet another week. They’d already lost a month’s worth of betting and other racing revenues, and they faced expensive identity, relocation, and setup expenses for Haven and Cora, on top of the relocation and setup expenses they’d just absorbed for the client they’d moved to Pennsylvania. The Ravens made good bank from their various businesses, and they weren’t hurting for money. But that stemmed in part from the fact that they were judicious in managing everything they brought in. They might wear leather and denim and care fuck-all for authority, but that didn’t mean they weren’t good businessmen. “Not unless we have specific intelligence that necessitates doing so.”
Jagger nodded. “Well maybe you should ask Nick and his guys to come provide extra security at the event while you’re at it. If we’re gonna open the compound up to the public, it wouldn’t hurt to have more boots and guns on the ground. And they obviously know how to handle themselves.”
“Will do,” Dare said. “Otherwise, the threat level is officially set at high, which means we’re instituting watch rotations beginning immediately.” Over the years, they’d put routines and protocols into place whenever high-profile targets resided on the compound—to keep their clients and themselves safe. A high threat level meant constant manning of their security camera feeds, concealed carry of weapons by all club members, and twenty-four/seven on-compound watch rotations, among other things. “Anyone gets any news, get in touch with me day or night. I don’t care what time it is. All in favor of this plan?”
Every hand around the table rose.
Dare nodded, his gut knowing sending Haven and Cora away was for the best for everyone involved, but his heart regretting the decision more than he wanted to admit. “Let’s get it done, then.”
Having been quiet for most of the meeting, Doc sat forward in his chair, a serious, contemplative expression on his aging face. “This right here is why we do what we do,” he said, meeting each of the men’s eyes. “Because there are people who imprison their kids, treat them as if they’re no more than assets in a business deal, and put rewards out on their heads that make them vulnerable to every kind of low-life scum. You make me proud of what we do here, of each and every one of you.”
Doc’s gaze met and held Dare’s, and he knew that the older man was thinking in part of his own son, Dare’s father. Doc hadn’t said anything about it in years, but Dare knew it weighed on his grandfather that Butch Kenyon had become so corrupt, so morally bankrupt, so selfish and arrogant and downright fucking evil. Doc felt responsible for the way his son had turned out, and, alongside the shit Bunny had gone through in her first marriage to Maverick’s father, it had long ago cemented his grandfather’s commitment to their protective mission.
Dare’s, too.
The meeting broke up after that, although most of the guys hung around to brainstorm or put plans into place or just shoot the shit.
Two bangs on the door, and then it flew open. Blake stood in the breach, turning Dare’s already dark mood black. Prospects didn’t belong in Church. Ever. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m sorry,” Blake said. “But we’ve got a situation.” The guy’s serious gaze cut to Maverick. “Alexa’s here. It’s bad.”
Oh, shit. Alexa Harmon, the only woman Maverick had ever been serious about. Who chose another man over him.
His easygoing demeanor immediately gone, Maverick bolted across the room. “Where is she?”
Dare and a few others followed Blake and Maverick as they rushed through the clubhouse to the kitchen, where they found a bruised, bloodied, and very shaken-up Alexa sitting at the kitchen table. Haven crouched down next to her, embracing the other woman in her arms.
“It’ll be okay now,” Haven said. “The Ravens will take care of you. I promise.”
If the picture of Haven offering a total stranger such compassion didn’t reach into Dare’s chest and fuck with his heart, her words certainly did. And they also made him feel like an even bigger pile of shit for doubting her trust back at the lake, because he’d seen how his doubt had cut her deep.
Alexa and Haven both looked up at the same time at the group of men pushing into the kitchen.
Oh, hell, Dare thought, scanning Alexa’s battered face. Maverick had been a teenager when his parents’ marriage imploded, which meant he’d been old enough to see Bunny’s face look like that more than once, so Dare knew what this must be doing to the guy.
“Jesus,” Maverick bit out, taking a knee in front of where Alexa sat. “What the hell happened?” he asked. He reached out as if to touch the cut on her lip but stopped just shy of doing so. Haven stood, giving Mav room to get right up into his woman’s space. Well, in his mind she was his, anyway. Alexa had always seemed to resist the chemistry clearly brewing between them, and the way that cut at his cousin had often left Dare feeling a flicker of resentment toward her, truth be told.
Alexa dipped her chin, bringing long brown waves down to shield her face. Dare turned to the men behind him and jerked his chin toward the door. Phoenix, Jagger, Doc, and Blake backed out of the room, leaving him, Mav, and the women. Whatever had happened here, Alexa didn’t need a big audience for it.
“I just overreacted,” Alexa finally said, her voice high and tight. She shook her head and wiped her fingers under her eyes. “I shouldn’t have come.”
Dare frowned, his attention divided between trying to make sense of what Alexa was saying and watching Haven move about the room—wetting some paper towels, grabbing a bag of peas from the freezer, filling a glass of water, and spilling a couple of pain pills into her hand from the cabinet over the sink, which had developed over the years to the one-stop shop for all their medicinal needs.
“Look here,” Maverick said, gently tipping Alexa’s chin up with a nudge of his fingers. In addition to the split on the right side of her lips, she had a bruising cut on her right cheekbone and eyebrow, too. “Coming here was exactly what you should’ve done.”
A quick shake of her head as panic filled Alexa’s hazel eyes. “No, I’m sorry,” she said, pushing up from the table. Almost immediately, she lost her balance and nearly fell against Maverick, who caught her in his arms. “Please,” Alexa said, desperation lacing through her voice. “Let me go.”
Haven rushed across the room and placed a hand on Maverick’s shoulder. He initially braced as he looked up at Haven, but then his gaze went to the things she carried in her hands. “No one’s keeping you here, Alexa. Don’t worry,” Haven said. “But let’s get you feeling a little better before you go anywhere, okay? Let’s start there.” She put the towels, frozen peas, water, and pills down on the table in front of Alexa.
Maverick heaved to his feet on a troubled sigh, backing up just enough to let Haven tend to Alexa but staying close enough to be there for her, too. Should she let him?
“Okay,” Alexa said, giving Haven a small, tentative smile. “Okay.” Alexa swallowed the ibuprofen and tilted her head back to allow Haven to clean up her face.
“I’m sorry if I’m making it hurt worse,” Haven said, leaning over to gently swipe at Alexa’s bleeding injuries. Watching her work was when Dare realized she’d changed clothes, and the damp waves of her hair revealed she’d showered, too. Which of course made Dare think about why she’d needed to shower in the middle of the day. For fuck’s sake.
“You’re not hurting me,” Alexa said, wincing as Haven dabbed at her cheekbone. “And thank you.”
Haven smiled, a smile so compassionate and sincere that Dare would’ve given just about anything to see something so beautiful and honest directed at him.
Even more than that, Dare was absolutely floored—and not a little awed—at how good Haven Randall was in a crisis. Gone was the shy, introverted woman she usually was. Instead, she was taking charge, doing what needed to be done, and putting Alexa at ease the way no one else could. The only other person they had around to play that role was Bunny, but she wasn’t always there and was old enough that they couldn’t just expect her to be at their beck and call at all hours of the day and night.
“You have the prettiest hair I’ve ever seen,” Alexa said. Dare couldn’t disagree. Which was why the compliment dropped a rock of guilt and regret into his gut. Since he was going to tell her she had to change it and all . . .
Haven’s cheeks flushed pink on another smile. “Thank you,” she said, and then she looked up at Dare. “Any chance you have something like butterfly stitches around here?”
“Yeah,” Maverick said, already moving toward the medicine cabinet. How had Haven become so competent at providing first aid? And why did it always seem like those who had lost the most or had the least were always among the most generous, the most giving, the first to put themselves out for others?
Haven’s default in this situation had clearly been to do what needed to be done, and that resonated so fundamentally with Dare that it had his chest feeling tight with need, with want, with appreciation. For her.
“Here you go,” Maverick said, eyeballing Haven’s every move where Alexa was concerned.
Nodding, Haven accepted the little packages into her hands and set about applying a few of the adhesive strips to Alexa’s cheek and eyebrow. “Okay,” Haven said. “I think that’s as much as I can do. You should probably go to the ER to get—”
“No doctors,” Alexa said on a rushed exhale, her eyes going wide with what looked like fear.
What the hell had happened to her?
Haven gave her hand a squeeze, and then passed her the bag of peas. “No doctors, then,” Haven said. “Don’t worry. Okay?”
Alexa nodded and shivered as she gingerly pressed the cold package to her face.
Finally, there was nothing to do but to ask again. “Why don’t you tell us what happened, Alexa?” Dare asked. “We want to help however we can.”
Maverick glanced at him, a look of appreciation clear on his face.
Alexa’s gaze darted between the three of them, and you could almost see the wheels turning in her head. Earlier she’d said she shouldn’t have come, so clearly she was second-guessing herself or talking herself out of thinking the situation was as serious as it was. They saw that so often—how women in abusive relationships internalized the criticism and twisted worldviews of their abusers, how they explained away abuse or blamed themselves. Dare really hoped that wasn’t what was happening here, because that would mean Alexa was in trouble. And that realization would torment the fuck out of Maverick, especially if she wouldn’t let him help.
Pulling a chair in front of her, Maverick took a seat and grasped her hand. “Al, talk to me.”
The look they exchanged suddenly felt loaded, intimate, and Dare wasn’t the only one who thought so, judging by the way Haven shifted her feet and ducked her chin.
“Hey Haven,” he said in a quiet voice. “Why don’t we give them a minute?”
A quick nod, and then Haven was following him toward the doorway to the mess hall. “I’m not going far if you need me,” she said, looking between Alexa and Maverick. They both nodded.
“Thanks, Haven,” Alexa said.
Dare hadn’t suggested they leave to get Haven alone, but the minute they stepped into the mess hall—and in front of the observing eyes of his brothers and grandfather—he wanted her all to himself. More than that, he needed to let her know what they’d discussed in Church, before she heard it from somebody else.
“What’s the deal?” Jagger asked, jutting his chin toward the kitchen. Maverick’s unreturned interest in Alexa wasn’t exactly a secret around the club.
“Don’t know all the details yet,” Dare said, clasping his brother on the shoulder. “But see that nobody bothers them in there, will ya?” Phoenix and Jagger nodded. “I’ll be in my office.” He turned to Haven. “Come with me.”
“Okay,” she said in a quiet voice.
A rock parked itself in Dare’s gut as he led the way to the back of the clubhouse. He wasn’t looking forward to this conversation, not one damn bit. But it wouldn’t be fair to her to put it off, either.
Rock, meeting fucking hard place. For both of them.
He pushed into his office and gestured to the chair in front of his desk. “Close the door and have a seat, Haven. We need to talk.”