Ride Hard (Raven Riders #1)(9)
“We have a run on Friday,” Phoenix said, his voice flat and so unlike his normal smart-ass self. “I’ll do some quiet asking while we’re out.”
Dare nodded. “Sounds good.”
With his wavy mess of dark brown hair, his ability to play the hell out of any guitar, and his habit of humming under his breath, Jagger had come by his handle honestly. The guy took a swig of his beer. “I think I’m gonna need two weeks to get the races running again. We’d cleared the calendar when we didn’t know how long the shit in Baltimore would take. That work for you?” Hosting stock-car and dirt-bike racing at the racetrack they owned was their main business, along with more occasional demolition derbies and less formally organized quarter-mile drag racing at a strip constructed on their property for that specific purpose. Three-hundred-plus acres gave them all kinds of room to move.
“Sounds good. Let’s make sure Ike’s in the loop so he can open betting again.” As his day job, Ike Young was a tattoo artist at Hard Ink Tattoo in Baltimore, not to mention the guy who did most of the club’s official ink when he was here, but he was also the Ravens’ longtime betting officer and their point man in the city for racing bets and debt collection. Ike made the Ravens lots of coin. Dare did a quick sweep of the room but didn’t see Ike around.
“Will do,” Jagger said, his fingers moving with the chord changes in the rock song that was playing. The guy was brilliant. He could equally pick up an unfamiliar instrument or take apart an engine and perfect either within a day. Two at most.
Dare put in another hour of face time at the party and didn’t feel bad for cutting out as people passed out, couples paired off, and the whole shindig started to wind down. Sometimes he felt like the years he’d spent alone and drifting had transformed him into an incurable loner. Because there were moments when he could stand in a roomful of people and feel totally alone, and other times when being social took more effort than he had to give and he absolutely craved his solitude. Like now.
On the way back to his office, Dare heard voices coming from the small room Ike used for his studio. Dare knocked.
A pause, and then, “Come in.”
Dare opened the door to find Ike sitting on his stool, a tattoo machine in his hand and the tattoo on his bald head visible. Jessica Jakes sat in the chair next to Ike, the red skin on her neck revealing where Ike had been working moments before. Dare didn’t know much about Jess besides that she worked at Hard Ink with Ike. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt,” Dare said, before looking to Jessica. “How are you, Jess?”
The woman had jet black hair with thick red strands and pretty much as many tats as Ike. “Good now that everything’s over in Baltimore. Glad you all are back and we can all get back to normal.”
Dare nodded. “Hope so.” No doubt Ike and Jess were anxious in their own way about what would happen now. The tattoo shop’s building had been heavily damaged in a firefight—the same attack that had claimed the lives of Harvey and Creed.
“We were just finishing,” Ike said. “Need me?” A big mountain of a guy, Ike had found his way to the Ravens a decade before, and he and Dare had bonded over a f*ckton of unfortunate shit they had in common. Evil fathers. Lost loved ones. Long years drifting on their own. The usual.
“Jagger’s looking for you. Find him about the race schedule tonight if you can,” Dare said.
“As soon as I finish up with Jess I’ll get on it.” Ike gave the petite woman a look, and her answering smile suddenly clued Dare in. They were together. Well, damn. In all the years Dare and Ike had known each other, neither of them had gotten serious about a woman. But good for Ike. Given everything the guy had been through, he deserved it.
“That works,” Dare said. With a nod, he stepped out of Ike’s studio and closed the door.
Back in his own office, Dare shut himself in, turned on the desk lamp, and dropped his ass into his chair. For a long time, he sat in the dim golden light, staring at the two remembrance patches on the desk. Slowly, he became aware of a soft sound—music? Or humming, maybe? He shifted toward the window that looked out over the clubhouse’s big back porch. The darkness kept him from seeing much, but the sound—definitely a woman humming—was coming from someone out there for sure.
He stretched further, far enough to see the moonlight reflect off of long blond hair.
Haven. Sitting with her head lying on folded arms on the porch railing. Her face was totally in shadows, but her humming continued on. Soft. Sweet. Peaceful.
Dare clicked off the desk lamp and settled back into his chair, arms crossed, feet up. In the darkness, Haven’s song seemed a little louder, more distinct. As tired as he was and as calming as her singing was, Dare was surprised he didn’t nod off sooner. Instead, he hung there, right on the edge of sleep. The image of Haven standing in the doorway of the rec room played against the inside of his eyelids.
He hoped their talk had put her more at ease. She and Cora had nothing to their names as far as Dare knew, and, though he hadn’t yet learned all their details, it seemed pretty clear they were runaways from something or someone. Until he got the backstory on them, he wouldn’t know fully how to help them. So they were probably here to stay for at least a little while.
I just usually expect the worst. That way it doesn’t hurt as much when it happens.
Her words from earlier came back to him in the quiet. In some ways—and certainly in that sentiment—she reminded him so much of himself. Or, at least, of the person he’d been back before he’d found his grandfather and a home at the clubhouse. The Raven Riders MC had already existed back then, headed up by Doc and a small group of his friends. But it wasn’t until Dare arrived that the organization started to grow and take in new blood. First Dare. Then Maverick. Then Bandit. Then Caine. And many others, too.