Ride Hard (Raven Riders #1)(86)

Cora yawned again and her eyes watered. “Ugh, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Haven said. “We got a lot done today. We made a good team. The two of us and Bunny.”

“We did,” Cora said. “Okay. But if you need me, wake me up. Any time. Promise?”

“I promise.”

Holding out her arms, Cora said, “Come here.”

Haven returned the hug. “I’m sorry I’m so moody.”

“Oh my God, Haven,” Cora said, pulling away. “You’re entitled to be freaking pissed at this whole situation. You don’t have to apologize to me. I’m pissed for you.”

Tears pricked at the backs of Haven’s eyes, and she blinked quickly to hold them back. “Thank you.”

Cora nodded. “See you in the morning.”

“Yeah.”

Alone in the kitchen, Haven threw herself back into her work with more banging and slamming than was strictly necessary. Cookies. This is so unfair. Cinnamon rolls. I hate my father so much. Muffins. I can’t believe this is happening. A couple of pans of brownies. I am so freaking angry I could scream.

When she was done, she stared at the rolling pin for a long time, imagining the damage she could do with it if she ever got within swinging range of her father. Sick and twisted? Maybe. She didn’t feel bad about it, though.

Finally, Haven loaded the dishwasher and washed what wouldn’t fit until her fingers pruned. She was just loading a bunch of cooled cookies into a big plastic container when the door to the kitchen swung open behind her.

She turned on a gasp. “Dare. Hey,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t sound as startled as she felt.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he said. Tall, dark, and brooding, he was rough sex on legs, even if he seemed to have darker-than-usual circles under his eyes.

She blew out a breath, irritated at her fear. “It’s okay.” Although it didn’t feel okay. None of this did. And she was so . . . freaking . . . pissed.

“No, it’s not,” Dare said, advancing on her like a lion on its prey. “None of this is okay.” He got right up in her space, crowding her against the sink.

She stared at him a long moment, her insides nearly shaking with rage, and then she let the truth fly. “Okay, you’re right. None of this is okay.” She shook her head, trying to rein herself in. “What are you still doing up?”

He searched her face. “Could ask you the same thing.”

Haven shrugged. “I can’t sleep on a good day, let alone when I feel like this.”

“Like what?” he asked.

She crossed her arms. “Scared. Pissed. No, so freaking mad it feels like I might explode apart.”

“Haven—”

She pushed around him, restless and needing space. “I mean, shit, why does everyone in my life find me so hard to want and to love?” she asked, the question spilling out of her as she started pacing. “My mother just walked away when I was a baby and left me in what she knew was a bad situation, or she wouldn’t have run away herself. And my father never looked at me as anything more than a nuisance or a possession, something he could use or sell to the highest bidder.” The words represented her ancient, most fundamental hurts, and saying them was like purging a sickness from deep, deep inside.

Dare grasped her arm. “Haven, what your parents did has nothing to do with you being lovable—”

“Oh, really?” she said, yanking her arm free and spinning on him. “And this coming from the man who said it would be better for everyone when I’m gone, who said he wasn’t serious about me and I wasn’t anything special.” She glared at him, the anger she’d been trying to beat back all night welling up inside her and finding a target.

Dare froze for a moment, and then his shoulders sagged. “Shit,” he said, raking his hand through his hair. “I’m an *.”

Strange laughter bubbled out of Haven. “Uh, yeah. A confusing *, at that. Kissing me one minute, pushing me away the next. Cuddling me one minute, telling your closest friends I’m nothing to you the next.” In some distant part of her mind, Haven tried to tell herself to stop. Did she really want to spend her last hours fighting with him? When she had so few left? But now that her anger had escaped, she couldn’t stuff it back down.

“Haven,” he said, stepping closer.

“No,” she yelled, moving back against the opposite counter. She pointed at him, a silent command for him to stay put.

He did. “You’re right. I’m an * for all of that. And for lying to the guys about you.”

“Lying,” she repeated, weighing the word on her tongue. She scoffed.

Dare nodded, the circles under his eyes darker, his face a shade paler. Tired. “It’s true. I didn’t mean what I said to them. And I hated that you overheard me say it.”

Shaking her head, Haven resisted the words. Believing them would just open her up again. Open her up for more hurt.

“I didn’t mean it,” he said again. He took a small step closer.

She threw her hands out in exasperation. “Then why did you say it? And why did you let the words stand until now if you didn’t mean them? Why would you let me believe them?” Giving voice to the questions that had been weighing on her drained away some of her anger.