Dare cleared out of Slider’s place before the guy came home from the towing company’s night shift. He didn’t want Slider to think there was any reason he couldn’t count on the women to take care of the boys on their own, nor did he want to explain to anyone why he felt the need to watch over them. Or, at least, over one of them.
Not having slept, the morning air rushing over his skin helped revive him, but what he really needed was a major infusion of caffeine and a belly full of sugar to jump-start his day. So he passed by the fast-food joints and the chichi coffeehouses on the strip leading into Frederick and made his way to his favorite local hole-in-the-wall—Dutch’s. Renowned for its breakfasts, it was only open for breakfast and lunch, mostly because Dutch said he was too old to stand on his feet through a dinner service, too.
Dare found a parking spot on one of Frederick’s quaint downtown streets and made his way to the corner shop. Dutch’s was a long, narrow place in the first floor of an old brick building. From the long Formica counter with its spinning stools to the big red-and-white booths to the jukebox on the wall, the interior was all old-time diner, though the restaurant had been there so long that it had probably seemed modern at some point.
“Dare Kenyon,” came a booming voice. Dutch Henderson was already settling a mug and pouring a cup of coffee at one of the stools. “I haven’t seen you in weeks.”
Dare shook the older man’s brown hand. Despite the fact that he tasted everything he made, Dutch was tall and thin, and the only thing that had changed on him in all the years Dare had known him was the color of his hair, from black to gray. “Been a crazy couple weeks, too,” Dare said. “How’s business?”
“Good, good. I’m just trying to keep up,” Dutch said. “Getting my hip replaced next month. Can’t put it off no more.”
“Damn, I’m sorry to hear that. But you’ll be good as new in no time,” Dare said, taking a sip of the strong, hot coffee. Fucking perfect.
“The usual?” Dutch asked. He knew pretty much everyone in town and remembered what they liked to order, too.
“You know it,” Dare said. While he waited for his food, he flipped through some e-mails and was pleasantly surprised to find a message from Marz detailing the vehicle registrations for Rhett Randall and all his men. Today was looking up already. He forwarded the info on to the club with a note to be on the lookout.
Then his gaze snagged on the dessert case. Dare slid off his stool and perused the small selection of sweets, thinking about all the things that Haven had made or talked about making. This was the kind of thing she needed to do with her life. Wherever they set her up, maybe he could look into finding her a place to open up a shop of her own.
“See something you want to try, hon?” one of the waitresses asked.
No was right on the tip of his tongue. “You know what, give me a chocolate chip and a peanut butter cookie,” he said, making his way back to his seat.
“Here you go,” the woman said, settling a plate in front of him.
Dare gave her a nod and picked up the peanut butter. Took a bite. It was decent. Before today, he might’ve thought it was good. Except Haven’s fucking cookies were better. Richer in flavor, moister, and hers had chips, too. Same with the chocolate chip cookie. These were okay, but given how Haven’s treats tasted, these could be better. Her talent made Dare proud of her, it really did.
It also cemented in Dare’s mind that she had to have a chance to do this thing she was so good at. And if he helped her get started at it, maybe she would remember him for something more than the shit she’d overheard him saying the other morning. It shouldn’t matter to him, but it did.
Because Haven mattered to him.
Dutch placed a plate of scrambled eggs, toast, bacon, and home fries in front of him. “Here you go.”
“Thanks, Dutch.” Dare dug into the grub, every bite making him feel a little more human. At some point, that night of no sleep was going to catch up to him, but for now, this would see him through.
“Green Valley opens back up this week, right?” Dutch asked, refilling coffee for a couple of customers farther down the counter.
“That’s right,” Dare said.
“Good. You know we missed it,” Dutch said. The Ravens’ races put money into other parts of Frederick—out-of-towners booked hotel rooms, ate in the restaurants, and did some sightseeing while they were here. The club hired locals to work the races, too—parking, concessions, and janitorial were all farmed out. Put all that together with the Ravens’ mission to protect, and it was easy to see why the club got on well with the town and had the support of the business community most of the time. Dare made it a point for the Raven Riders to get along whenever he possibly could. It was good for business all the way around, particularly given that some of their business was a few shades shy of legal.
“I know,” Dare said. “Hated to close down, but it was unavoidable. Shouldn’t happen again.” The three weeks most of the club had been in Baltimore had made holding the races impossible, and then it had taken them two more to get the schedule up and running again. Dare couldn’t think of a time in all his years when they’d had to close down for so long before. He sure as hell hoped they never had cause for it to happen again.
Dutch nodded as he put the coffeepot back on its warmer. “I was hoping to make it out, but I don’t do so good walking on uneven surfaces right now. Damn hip.”
“Tell you what. You come out, you call me and let me know,” Dare said as he pulled a card from his wallet and pushed it across the counter. “I’ll have someone meet you at your car with a golf cart and escort you up to the track. I’ll have VIP seating waiting for you and Shirley. On the house.”
The man’s face went almost comically surprised for a moment. “That’s a helluva offer,” Dutch said, pocketing the card. “I just might take you up on that.”
“I hope you do,” Dare said, giving the old man a smile. Dutch was good fucking people.
An older couple got up from the far end of the bar, and Dare happened to glance to his right in time to see the look of disapproval on the woman’s face as she eyed him—or, more likely, his colors—the patch and insignia on his cut. It didn’t bother Dare none. Not everyone understood what motorcycle clubs were about, and even a lot of people who thought they did had gotten a very particular view of them from television shows and cable news. And, anyway, even in a town as small as Frederick, you couldn’t expect everyone to like you, now could ya?
Dare cleaned his plate and threw a twenty down on the counter. “I’m heading out, Dutch. Hope to see you Friday night.”
From where he stood clearing dishes at the end of the bar, Dutch waved. “Me too. Ride safe.”
Dare smiled, because Dutch had offered that same farewell as long as Dare had known the man. “Always do.” He stepped out into the morning feeling more ready to face the day. Which was good, because the days immediately before a race were always a blur of activity and unexpected fires that needed to be put out. Jagger handled the lion’s share of it, but Dare helped however he could and whenever he was needed.
After all, race night running like clockwork equaled money pouring in, and after taking a month off, the club needed Friday night to run like a well-oiled machine. And it was Dare’s job as president to make sure it was fucking so.
HAVEN WAS GLAD she was going to be here to experience one of the Raven Riders’ races. It would be just one more thing she would have to carry with her from this place that she’d come to love. And apparently one part of race day was food. Lots and lots of it. Food for the Ravens preparing for the race and working race day, food for their guests, food for the after-party. Which meant Haven was right in her element as she and Cora rolled up their sleeves and pitched in however Bunny needed them to.
She and Cora had seen Sam and Ben off on the school bus, and then Slider had come home and brought the women back to the clubhouse first thing this morning. The boys were ornery and funny and sweet beyond belief, and they’d all had a total ball hanging out. Back in Georgia, some of her father’s men had been in the habit of dropping their kids off for her to watch, so she’d spent a surprising amount of time around kids. And she’d loved it. She’d loved their innocence and their joy and their playfulness. Being around them felt hopeful, like anything was possible. And though the assumption that Haven was there to be used annoyed her, she didn’t mind watching the kids—because in addition to the fun distraction they provided, she knew she was keeping them from being left alone or put in positions kids shouldn’t be put in. Sam and Ben had reminded Haven how much she enjoyed kids—and made her actually contemplate having her own for the first time, now that she was free from that environment. So Slider’s boys would be another part of the big puzzle that made up the Ravens, which Haven already knew she was going to miss.
Gah. She was being a total sap. It wasn’t like she was ever meant to be a part of these people’s lives. She’d always just been passing through.
A client, Dare had called her. A client like every other.
Whatever. She threw herself into the work, glad for the distraction from how fast the days seemed to be flying by. And from the fact that she hadn’t seen Dare more than in passing in almost three days.
By the time dinner rolled around, Haven was achy from standing on her feet all day, but she’d also had a ton of fun hanging in the kitchen with Bunny and Cora, a few Raven wives who stopped by to help or drop off dishes and platters, and the occasional Raven who dared to try to sneak a bite and risked the smack of Bunny’s wooden spoon. That lady was tough. And awesome. The kind of woman Haven wanted to be. Which was why Haven loved her.
Haven loved . . . so much about the Ravens.
The three of them took their dinners in the kitchen to keep an eye on the variety of dishes they had going—the trays of lasagna Bunny was baking, the cinnamon roll dough Haven was preparing, the meatballs simmering in the giant Crock-Pot. Cora had prepared huge vegetable and fruit platters, and followed Haven’s quickly dashed-off recipes for several types of cookie dough, also waiting to be baked. The big kitchen was like an assembly line, and they still had a lot to do.
A bunch of guys brought dirty dishes into the kitchen, signaling that dinner out in the mess hall had come to an end. Done with her own meal, Haven went out into the mess hall to help clean up. Dare sat at the head of one of the tables, head thrown back in laughter, Maverick, Phoenix, and Jagger next to him laughing just as hard.
God, Dare was freaking hot.
Really fucking hot. Say it. Tell me how hot it is.
The memory of his words licked over her skin and made her suck in a breath.
And then Dare’s gaze landed on Haven, hot and direct, and she felt it like he’d reached across the room and touched her. And, God, how she wished he had. Because, yeah. With his darkly handsome face, that mess of brown hair she knew was so soft, and that harsh mouth that gave her so much pleasure, Dare Kenyon was really fucking hot. Even if his words had crushed her heart.
Ducking her head, Haven grabbed as much as she could off the table and retreated into the kitchen. The thing was, unlike weeks ago when being in his presence scared her, now she craved it, even knowing nothing would come of it—that he wouldn’t let anything come of it. Not anymore.
She went back out for another load, and Cora followed, just in time to hear Phoenix shout into his cell phone, “Who the fuck is this?” He wasn’t playing.
The room went deadly quiet, the words freezing the maybe ten remaining Ravens in place as every eye focused on the head of the table.
Phoenix mouthed something to Dare, then said into the phone, “What are you talking—”
Dare’s expression was rank anger and outrage, and it knotted Haven’s stomach for reasons she didn’t understand. “Give me the phone,” Dare bit out. He pressed a button and held the phone out in his hand. “This is Dare Kenyon, Raven Riders’ president. Who the fuck is this?”
“Ah, Dare,” came a man’s voice through the speaker. “This is Dominic Hauer. We met on Monday. Turns out we have more business, just like I thought we would.” The menace in the man’s voice, the grim expressions on the Ravens’ faces—all of it had Haven’s heart racing and dread prickling across her skin.
“Our business is done,” Dare said, ice in his tone. She’d never heard his voice sound so . . . deadly.
“Turns out, not so much. You see, we now find ourselves in possession of something I think you’re going to be interested in.”
Dare made eye contact with Phoenix, who shrugged and shook his head. “Fine. I’ll bite. What would that be?” Next to him, Maverick, Caine, and Jagger sat forward, jaws clenched, muscles tense.
“Information that the Churchmen held two women in their possession worth fifty grand in cold hard reward to some redneck down in Georgia. Well, a hundred thou now. And we’ve recently made acquaintance with this fine gentleman.”
Haven slapped her hand over her mouth to smother her gasp as Dare’s gaze collided with hers. Oh, God. Ohgodohgod. Her father . . . her father was nearby. And willing to pay . . . a hundred thousand dollars to get her back?
“And I care about this why?” Dare asked, the nonchalance and disinterest so convincing in his voice.
“Because you have them.”
The words hung there, and Haven almost went wobbly on her feet. Except hands caught her, supported her. Cora on one side and Bunny on the other. When the older lady had come out from the kitchen, Haven didn’t know.
“Hang in there,” Bunny whispered into her ear.
“I don’t traffic in women. That shit was all the Church Gang,” Dare said. Tension and anticipation filled the room so thick you could’ve cut it with a knife. And Haven . . . guilt and embarrassment consumed her. That she’d brought this danger to them. That she’d ever withheld the information about the reward.
“Yes, and what you do is take in women in trouble. Like the two rescued out of the Churchmen’s storage facility. Took me a little digging to find out that fact, but once I did, I no longer really needed to know who you were working with at that gun deal. Whoever it was, we know they also raided the storage facility. And you make the most sense for where those women went. Sound interesting yet?”
Dare heaved a breath and his face went serious, shuttered, emotionless, even the anger bled out of his expression. He was all do-or-die business. Eyes narrowed, jaw clenched, it was the most intimidating Haven had ever seen him look. She took a little comfort from it, because if anyone could handle this, Dare could.
Please, I can’t go back.
“And if I am interested?” Dare asked.
A small chuckle came through the line. “Then you’ll need to decide how interested you are. Because you’ve got forty-eight hours to beat the reward, or I send the redneck your way and collect the hundred K from him. Makes no difference to me. Though I suspect it does to you.”
“And how do I know he and his crew aren’t already on their way here?” Dare met Maverick’s gaze, and the other man gave him a tight nod. Haven was quite possibly going to lose the dinner she’d just eaten.
“Because I’m telling you they’re not. The deal on Monday went smooth and we did what we said we would. I’d hope that would buy me a little good faith.”
“That would be easier if you weren’t blackmailing me for six figures,” Dare bit out.
“This isn’t blackmail. This is business. We need cash. We have two sources to get it. Which one is entirely up to you,” Dominic said.
Dare didn’t flinch. “Fine. Make it seventy-two hours. I can’t pull that kind of cash together in forty-eight.”
Haven wrapped an arm around her stomach. Dare was going to have to pay a hundred thousand dollars for her freedom? On top of everything else he’d done and was doing to set up their new lives? The room spun around her.
“You’ll need to make that extra day worth my while,” Dominic said. “We’re not the only one chasing down these skirts. Time is not on your side.”
“Done. I’ll have it by twelve noon on Saturday. You can name the drop spot,” Dare said.
“That’s a plan I can live with. Talk to you Friday with the details. Dare.” The phone went dead.
Dare threw Phoenix’s cell to the table in a clatter. He shoved up out of his chair, the legs screeching against the floor, and braced his hands on the table. And then he rose to his full height and scanned his gaze over the Ravens.
“Threat level is officially critical. Maverick, get everyone in and assign guard duty at all the usual locations. Everyone needs to ride hot.” Nods all around the room. “Jagger, head down to the sheriff’s office and share the intel on Randall, his crew, and their vehicle information. Tell them we’ve got protectees in imminent danger. Martin owes us for what went down with his niece, so I don’t see any issue getting them on board.”
As Jagger nodded, Haven was torn between terror and solace at Dare’s calm, calculating command of the situation.
“Caine,” Dare continued, “we need that documentation and the relocation arrangements in place by Friday.” Friday? She’d have to leave on Friday?
“Shit, Dare,” the guy said, stone-cold rage in his voice. “Monday was already pushing it.”
“Do or pay whatever the fuck you have to.” Dare raised an eyebrow.
“I hear you,” Caine said with a nod.
“Want me to call in the Brothers’ help for Friday?” Phoenix asked, though who he was referring to, Haven didn’t know. What she did know was how much trouble they were going to. For her.
“Was thinking the same thing,” Jagger said. “We need to be prepared for anything. More boots on the ground will help.”
Dare nodded. “Good thinking. Do it.”
Haven hung on every word, just trying to wrap her head around everything that was happening. Dare hadn’t looked at her once, and all she could think was what an utter pain in the ass she’d become for him . . . and for all of the Ravens. “I don’t want anything to happen to you,” she forced herself to say. “To any of you. I’ll just go tonight. If you could loan me bus money, I’ll just go wherever the next bus heading far away takes me.”
Dare finally looked at her, his gaze so hot she was surprised it didn’t scorch her clothes. “The plan stays the same, just accelerated. Don’t you worry about a thing.”
Nods all around the room, which was when Haven noticed that every man there was looking at her with a fierce protectiveness in his eyes. She didn’t see an ounce of irritation directed her way, and it made her heart feel too big for her chest. Finally, she gave a small nod.
“Church will meet at nine o’clock tomorrow morning,” Dare said, looking at Maverick. “Spread the word.”
“Will do,” Maverick said.
“Good, then get to it.” Dare’s words sent the room into a flurry of motion. Jagger and Phoenix asked Dare questions, while Maverick gathered a group of guys in the corner, their heads bent together as he spoke. Caine stalked out of the room, his cell pressed to his ear. Haven thought she might be having an out-of-body experience, because though she was in the room, she felt apart from it, like she was floating somewhere and watching the whole thing from afar.
“Hey. Hey, Haven,” came a voice from beside her.
She blinked and turned to find Bunny staring at her, a look of motherly concern on her face. “Don’t you worry, hon. These guys have your back. Don’t doubt it for a second.”
“Yeah,” Cora said. “If anyone can handle your dad, it’s the Ravens.” Though Cora’s expression was quite possibly the most worried Haven ever remembered seeing.
“It’s too much,” Haven whispered, shaking her head. “This is all too much to expect anyone to do.”
“Not for one of our own,” Bunny said. “That’s what this place is all about.”
The words nearly broke Haven’s heart. “But I’m not,” she said with a small shrug. “I’m not one of you. I’m leaving.”
Bunny pressed her lips together in a tight line. “Well, it makes no difference. Dare’s gonna handle this no matter what.”
As if her words drew him across the room, Dare appeared beside Bunny. He grasped Haven’s hand. “She’s right. Come with me,” he said.
His skin against hers felt so perfect that Haven would’ve followed him anywhere, so she didn’t ask a question or offer the slightest resistance as he pulled her through the kitchen and out onto the back porch illuminated by the very last light of day.
The screen door had no more slammed shut than Haven found herself pressed up against the wall. Dare was all over her. His hands in her hair, his hips pinning hers, his mouth coming down on hers hard. Given the things he’d said, maybe she should’ve pushed him away. But she couldn’t. She didn’t want to. In that moment, the threat against her freedom and her very life made everything else unimportant.
Claiming, devouring, penetrating, there was something so soothing in the roughness of his kiss. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t think, she couldn’t move, and she didn’t care at all. Because she felt like she hadn’t had a deep breath since the last time their lips had met, and, once again, Dare had known exactly what she needed. As much as the deep demands of his kisses left her head spinning, they also made her feel stronger, more able to handle this new blow. So as her arms wrapped around his neck, she surrendered everything he wanted—and maybe some things he didn’t. Because she’d never been more certain that she’d fallen in love with Dare Kenyon than she was right at that very moment.
“Christ, Haven,” he rasped around the edge of a kiss. He was rock hard against her stomach. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
“What for?” she asked, breathless and more turned on than she’d ever been in her life.
He shook his head. “Everything. Just fucking everything.” He grasped the sides of her face in his big hands and rested his forehead against hers. His eyes absolutely blazed at her. “I will keep you safe. I will give you the life you deserve. I promise.”
“I know,” she said. She didn’t doubt him. Not at all. If it was within his power, she knew he would.
“You do?” he asked.
“Of course,” she said. “I believe in you, Dare. No matter what.”
He stroked his hands down her hair, smoothing his palms over her neck and shoulders. Like he couldn’t stop touching her. Like he had to touch her. As much as she needed to touch him.
“I’ve got shit I need to jump on, but I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
She wasn’t. Not really. “I really could go tonight,” she said. “I hate that anyone here could get hurt, or that you’d be on the hook for so much. For me.”
He cupped her face in his hand, and his thumb dragged across her cheekbone once, twice. “We got this.”
“Okay,” she said on a long exhale.
“Okay?” He arched a brow, exuding so much confidence that all she could do was agree.
“Yeah.”
He kissed her again, a long, drawn-out meeting of lips and tongue that left her wanting more. Always more, with him. “Then I’ll find you later.”