by Laura Kaye
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.”
CHAPTER 14
Haven closed the door and leaned back against it, too keyed up to sit, too anxious to be still. Between the adrenaline coursing through her while helping Alexa and the dread weighing her down from knowing the Ravens had essentially been discussing her fate, Haven felt a little like she might come out of her skin.
Arms folded over her chest, she stared at Dare, her gaze running over the hard angles of his face, the way his club cut emphasized the breadth and bulk of his shoulders, how the old denim of his jeans hugged his thighs.
“Haven,” he said.
Her gaze cut to his. And, oh, man, she was so busted, wasn�
��t she?
“You gonna sit?” he asked, lowering himself into the ancient black leather office chair.
She shook her head. “I’d rather stand,” she said. Nervously, she glanced around the room. Files, papers, and odd dog-on-motorcycle knickknacks cluttered his desk, while bike-related signs and posters filled the walls. The window over his shoulder looked out onto the clubhouse’s back porch and let in the warm breeze and the birdcalls she enjoyed so much when she sat outside.
Just another thing she would miss.
“Okay,” he said, rising again and coming around to the near side of the desk. He rested his butt against its edge and crossed his arms over his chest, his position mirroring hers. “So, the club’s come up with a plan to keep you safe.”
Obviously, that was a good thing, except then why did it make her stomach drop to the floor? “Which is?” she asked, meeting Dare’s serious gaze.
“For the long term, we think it probably makes sense to relocate you and Cora and set the both of you up with brand-new, foolproof identities. That includes everything—birth certificates, Social Security numbers, driver’s licenses, and the like.”
Haven’s brain raced at all the implications—living somewhere new, having a new name, stepping into a whole new life. Given the likelihood that her father would never stop looking for her, it made sense. But it also settled a dull ache in the center of her chest. Because it meant she’d never really be able to stop watching and waiting and worrying that he might only be a half step behind her.
Changing her name also meant losing her only real connection to her mother, who Haven knew had picked it because her father told her that every time he told her how stupid it was. Because her mother had left while Haven had still been in diapers, Haven had no firsthand memories of the woman. But even though it had hurt for a long time that her mother had abandoned her, Haven also couldn’t help but feel some small sympathy for a woman who had maybe hoped her baby would provide a safe haven in an otherwise bad life. Apparently, it hadn’t worked.
Blinking out of her thoughts, Haven said, “Um, maybe I should go get Cora for this.” What would her reaction to all this be? Haven already felt bad that her problems came with such enormous consequences for the best friend she ever had.
Dare reached out a hand as if to stop her, even though she hadn’t actually moved. “I’ll talk to her, too. But there’s more I need to tell you.”
“Okay,” she said, head spinning. And then something occurred to her that made her totally nauseous. “Dare, I don’t have any way to pay for something like that. Like, I literally have nothing.” A shiver of panic raced over her skin, and the words rushed out of her. “I don’t even know how I—”
“No,” he said. Dare was in front of her in an instant, his hands gently grasping her by the arms. Heat shot from his touch into her face, her breasts, her belly. “I know that, Haven, and this is on us, not you.”
She blinked, overwhelmed by his words, his closeness, the longing she felt for him. “Why?”
Shadows passed behind his eyes, shadows that Haven didn’t understand. “It’s what we do.”
“But why?” she asked again. Without knowing, it was so much harder to believe that he and the Ravens would do so much for someone they knew so little and owed even less.
Dare released her and stepped back, and there was that distance again. Physical and emotional. He crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. “It’s just what we do,” he said. “I told you that from the very start.”
He was right. Haven remembered the conversation they’d had in the lounge the night she’d first met Dare. Intellectually, she knew that had only taken place a week before, but for some reason it felt like she’d lived a whole lifetime since first meeting Dare Kenyon.
“Okay,” she said. “What else do you need to tell me then?” She wasn’t sure how anything else could possibly be as big as pretending to be someone you weren’t—for the rest of your life. But something about the way Dare wasn’t quite meeting her eyes made her instincts jangle. Whatever it was might not be as big as all that, but it was still big enough.
“While you’re still here, you can’t go out in public. At least, not without having a few of us with you.”
That news made her nausea even worse. She’d gotten free of her father’s house, only to . . . what? Be imprisoned elsewhere? Be imprisoned by her past? Be imprisoned by fear, forever?
“It’s not what you think,” Dare said, his brow furrowing as he peered down at her. “It’s just for your safety.”
“Sure,” she said, trying to fend off the irrational feelings of defeat and resignation threatening to swamp her. It was all for her own good, after all. Right?
“And one more thing,” he said. “Just to be on the safe side, we think . . . well . . . you gotta change the hair. The length makes you stand out, and it’s identifiable from a distance. It might be overkill, but we have to assume the worst—that your father knows you’re in the greater Baltimore area and that you were taken by the team operating out of Hard Ink. It wouldn’t take too much digging for someone with the right skills and motivation to tease that trail in this direction, and we’ve got a race open to the public next weekend, so . . .”
Her hair? She had to change her hair? Tears pricked at the backs of her eyes, and she ducked her chin to her chest. After everything else he’d said, her reaction to the idea of cutting her hair was probably ridiculous. It was a little thing in the greater scheme of things. And it would grow back, of course. But then why did it make her stomach hurt and her shoulders sag?
It’s for your own good, it’s for your own good.
She repeated the mantra in her mind and shook her head. “Okay,” she said. “How should I, uh, go about that?”
“Oh, uh,” he said, looking uncomfortable. “I’ll take you somewhere. Or something. Let me figure that out.”
A fast nod and lots of blinking. When she was sure her voice wasn’t going to crack, she said, “Thank you, for all of this. It’s pretty amazing that you’d help complete strangers.” Although, she didn’t feel like a stranger to Dare. Not even a little, and that made that hollow space inside her chest ache even more. “And I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you about the reward sooner. I just . . . it wasn’t . . .” She shook her head again. “Just, I’m sorry.”
Dare stepped closer and bent down so he could look at her eye to eye. “I get why you did what you did. Okay? I’m not pissed about that. Not anymore,” he said.
His closeness stole her breath, and suddenly Haven found herself trembling for reasons that had nothing to do with how overwhelmed she felt. As her gaze scanned over his darkly handsome face, she licked her lips, hungry for a taste of him. Hungry for everything, with him. And that feeling beckoned words she didn’t mean to say out loud.
“Will I get to see you . . . after?” Heat flooded into her cheeks at everything the question potentially revealed. But she probably didn’t have time to play games or be subtle or wait to see how things worked out, did she?
His eyes narrowed. “After you’re relocated?”
She nodded.
“No,” he said, neither his eyes nor his expression revealing anything about how that made him feel. “It would be sorta like the witness protection program. New name. New home. No contact with anyone or anywhere from your old life.”
“Oh, of course,” she said, her tone sounding a heck of a lot more normal than she felt. Because she would be giving up not only the one place she’d ever felt safe but the one man who had ever made her feel safe, too. And, of course, safe was only just one of the things Dare made Haven feel. And maybe not even the most important—which was saying something for someone who’d lived the way she had for so very long. “And when would we leave?”
“Could take as much as two weeks to get everything ready,” he said on a sigh. “Or it could be sooner. But I’ll keep you posted.”
Two weeks. Two weeks. She wanted to be happy about that. She wanted to feel
like, oh yay, in two weeks I can finally have the life I’ve always wanted. Except she didn’t feel that way at all. Instead, it felt like the clock was ticking down all around her, marking the minutes and seconds until she’d have to give up some of the best things she’d ever found.
“Two weeks,” she said out loud. “Well, that sounds, uh, great.” The last thing she wanted was for him to think she wasn’t grateful, because she was. “Anything else?” she asked, suddenly wanting to flee, to be out from underneath the intensity of his too-observant gaze.
“No, but Haven—”
Two knocks against the door.
Haven startled at the sound coming from right behind her. She jumped out of the way as the door opened.
Maverick poked his head in. “Oh, sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Haven said. “We were all done. I think. Right?” She looked to Dare.
He frowned. “Yeah, about done.”
“Well, then, can I talk to you?” Maverick asked, looking to Dare.
“I’ll go,” Haven said, not even waiting for Dare to respond. She pulled the door open further and then slipped by Maverick. He seemed nice, which made her feel bad for him and Alexa, because it seemed like there was something between them. “Is Alexa okay?” she asked.
Maverick peered over his shoulder at her. With his blond hair and blue eyes, he was a cute guy, more traditionally handsome than Dare, she supposed. “She will be,” he said. “Thank you for what you did for her.”
“Of course,” Haven said, nodding and needing to get away from the way Dare was staring at her over the other man’s shoulder. “It was nothing.”
“No, Haven,” Maverick said, turning all the way toward her. “You taking care of someone I care about will never be nothing.”
“Okay,” she said, unsure how else to respond. “I really hope things work out for her.” With a nod, Haven turned and rushed down the hall, hoping against hope that things worked out for herself, too.
