Ride Hard (Raven Riders #1)(64)
“Man, I’m hard just thinking about all that,” he said. And, truth be told, a little sad thinking about it, too. Because he’d lived alone so long he could hardly imagine what it would be like to live in a house that was actually alive. Hell, even the house he grew up in was weighed down by fear and tension more than lit up with anything that approximated life.
“Is that so?” She pressed her ass more firmly against his crotch. “Oh, yes, I see.”
Dare chuckled at her playfulness, loving to see it, given where she’d been a few weeks before.
Looking over her shoulder, she smiled. “If just talking about what I could make causes all this, maybe we should see what happens if I actually made you a meal here sometime.”
The idea did funny things to Dare’s chest. Suddenly, he could see Haven there in his kitchen. Wearing one of his big T-shirts over a pair of panties and nothing else as she cooked breakfast. Pulling a big tray of cookies out of the oven, and making the whole house smell like f*cking heaven. He could see them there together. Eating. Living. Loving. “Yeah,” Dare said, getting caught up in his head. “We should definitely see about that.”
Her smile sagged a little. “Maybe a farewell dinner before I go. Or something. To say thank you.”
The cold, hard reality of her words pulled him out of his pointless thoughts. “Yeah.” He stepped away from her and grabbed a beer from the fridge. And was glad when the delivery guy showed up a few minutes earlier than expected.
He paid the guy and turned toward the table to find Haven grabbing plates from a cabinet, as if she’d done it a hundred times before. And it lured more of those thoughts into his head. What was wrong with him? She had to leave. It was safest for her. Safest for his people, too. That’s where his head should be.
“That smells good,” she said, sliding into a seat at the table.
Dare set the box down and flipped open the lid. “It does. Dig in.” He waited for her to grab a slice before he took two for himself.
For a long moment, they ate in silence, and then Haven said, “Can I ask you a question?”
“Always,” he said. Part of him was curious to learn what she wanted to know. Most of the time they’d spent talking over the past few weeks had been about her background and situation, and Dare half wondered what a sheltered twenty-two-year-old and he could have in common to talk about—part of him hoped it wasn’t much. Although he’d already been surprised more than once about the experiences they’d shared—their abusive, megalomaniac fathers, missing out on school and the typical teenage experience, running away from home and knowing they were being pursued. And finding shelter with the Ravens—he certainly couldn’t forget that.
She swallowed a bite and took a long sip of water. “Why did you join the Raven Riders?”
He almost laughed. The question seemed simple on its face but was actually the single thing she could’ve asked that would unravel lots of strands of his life. And there was almost no way to answer without either sharing the way he’d failed Mom and Kyle or omitting the way he’d failed the two most important people in his life—and hadn’t there already been enough lies and omissions between them?
“Well, it’s a bit of a long story,” he said, taking a bite. “The short version is that I ran away from my father’s house in Arizona when I was fifteen. After a few years of being homeless and floating around on my own, I worked up the courage to approach my grandfather. I hadn’t come here right away because my father had said for years that Doc was a mean, selfish bastard who wanted nothing to do with me or any of us. But life on the road alone wasn’t easy . . .” Which, given the things he’d done and sacrificed to survive, was a major f*cking understatement. But whatever. “. . . and I wasn’t sure I wanted to keep living at all if I had to keep living like that. So I figured, what the hell, it was worth the try. Doc knew who I was with one glance and took me in without even a question. I should’ve known my father had lied and come here sooner. But after escaping two bad situations, I just hadn’t wanted to risk a third until I got desperate. The Ravens already existed then, but they were small and the members were mostly older or aging out. I’d grown up around my father’s club, and I liked the loyalty and brotherhood, the family, that a good club could be. So Doc and I agreed that I could stay on and earn my keep rebuilding the club and running the compound. On one condition.”
Haven’s expression was nearly rapt as she listened to him. “Which was?”
“That I never make the Ravens into the kind of club my father’s Diablos were.” He finished his first slice and wiped his fingers on a napkin. “A lot of bikers are drawn to clubs not only because they want to share in the motorcycle lifestyle with others who know and appreciate it, but because they also want to live life on their own terms. Some clubs, like the Diablos, take that a step further and want to live life without the restraints and oversights of rules and laws and authority. Instead, they want to make the rules and be the authority, which often leads to territorial disputes and conflicts with other clubs or gangs or criminal organizations. They go on the offense to secure territory and have no problem using violence—in some places, your number of kills or prison terms is often a way of proving your loyalty and moving up in the organization.”
Haven nodded as she grabbed a second slice of pizza. “Okay,” she said.