Ride Hard (Raven Riders #1)

by Laura Kaye

  “What’s this?” Dare asked, trying to make his eyes focus. Mav just waited, and finally Dare’s brain caught up. A Missouri driver’s license. Haven’s new license. Except of course that wouldn’t be her new name. His eyes scanned . . .

  Kyle Grace Jameson.

  Dare blinked. Kyle? She’d named herself Kyle?

  He squinted and realized he’d read it wrong. Kylie, not Kyle.

  Except having seen his brother’s name in her newly chosen name, he couldn’t unsee it. What were the chances the similarity in those names was a coincidence? His gut told him it was very little. His heart told him it was none at fucking all.

  Haven had been planning to name herself after his brother? He squeezed the card in his hand. “Kylie,” he whispered, emotion clogging his throat again.

  “Yeah,” Maverick said, placing the envelope on the tray. “Kylie.”

  The significance of that gesture sank into every fiber of Dare’s being. On a cellular level, he felt the generosity, the sweetness, the incredible beauty of what she planned to do and who she planned to be.

  Which was when he knew there was absolutely no way on God’s green earth he was letting her become Kylie. Not when she was already his Haven.

  Unless, of course, she wanted to go. Because after the horror show of Friday night and being forced to kill her own father, he wouldn’t blame her one bit if she was chomping at the bit to leave, to finally find a place where she might be safe.

  Dare wouldn’t make her stay, even though she’d be taking his heart with her if she went.

  HAVEN CAME AWAKE on a gasp, her gaze cutting immediately to Dare’s face. Dark circles marred the skin beneath his eyes and lines cut deep into his skin, but his eyes were open and looking at her, and it made him the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen.

  “You’re awake,” she said, sitting up. “Oh, God, you’re really awake.” She cupped his jaw in her hand, relief coursing through her.

  “And you’re still here,” he said, voice scratchy. He’d been intubated during his surgery, and one of the nurses had mentioned he’d probably have a sore throat.

  The words made Haven’s belly sink, and she drew her hand away. “Uh, yeah. Well, they wanted to wait for you to decide what to do.” From the moment Caine had returned with their paperwork and logistics, Haven had been nearly sick with dismay at the prospect of leaving.

  Dare frowned. “I’m sorry, Haven.” He pressed his lips into a grim line, and his eyes looked so bleak.

  “For what?”

  “For so much. For not protecting you. For not keeping my word. For putting you in the position of having to take a life.” He shook his head, and the grimace proved that it was more movement than he was up for.

  “In case you didn’t notice,” she said, fight stirring up in her belly, “I’m completely unharmed. You kept your promise. And killing my father was one of the most justified things I’ve ever done in my life. He killed people we cared about. He hurt Bunny. He was going to kill you and kidnap me. He was evil, pure and simple. So I’m not sorry. Not at all. And you shouldn’t be either.”

  Dare studied her like he was searching for the truth in her words. “You’re not upset?”

  Taking his hand in hers, she shook her head. “Not about any of that.”

  “About something else?” he asked.

  She dropped her gaze to the envelope on the tray next to him. “Caine got the paperwork.”

  “I know,” he said, holding up her driver’s license in his other hand. She hadn’t noticed he had it. “You named yourself after my brother.” He didn’t phrase it as a question.

  Heat filled her cheeks. “I wanted the name to mean something.”

  “My brother means something to you?” he asked, a strange expression she couldn’t read playing over his face.

  Discomfort rolled through her stomach. Did he disapprove? She dropped her chin and her gaze. “Yeah, because he means so much to you.”

  He squeezed her hand weakly. “Look at me.” She forced her eyes to meet his, and he stared at her a long, long moment. “What do you want?”

  Feeling like she was standing on the edge of the tallest cliff, Haven knew she had to jump. Her life depended on it. “I want to live. To really live—”

  Pain flickered over his face, making her swallow her words. “Then we’ll get you out of here as soon as we can. Because you deserve that, Haven.”

  Wait. What? “No,” she said, shaking her head. “I want to live, Dare. And you’re the one who showed me that I could. Who showed me how beautiful it could be—”

  “Killing your father was beautiful?” he bit out.

  “I’m free now. For real. And someone who made a life out of hurting others is gone. Maybe that’s not beautiful, but it’s good. And if that makes me a horrible person, then I’m okay with it.”

  “Should’ve been me,” he said, grit in his voice.

  “I don’t need you to protect me, Dare. I appreciate it, but I can survive on my own. I’ve done it all my life. But I don’t want to just survive. Not anymore. I want to live and experience all the beauty and power and chaos of life. And I want that . . . I want that with you.”

  Dare frowned, and then his eyes went wide. “Are you saying—”

  “I don’t want to go,” she said. “Unless you don’t want me to stay. Unless . . . unless I’m really not that special to you.” Giving voice to those words was one of the scariest things she’d ever done. But she had to know. Once and for all.

  She could barely breathe as she waited for him to reply.

  On a groan, he reached for her with his good arm, and she leaned in to let him cup the back of her neck and pull her closer. “Come here,” he whispered. She got as close as she could without putting any of her weight on him. His gaze went soft and unshuttered, and then words spilled from that harsh, beautiful mouth. “I love you,” he said. “I fucking love you so much that I don’t think I can exist without you. Not anymore. I don’t want you to go. Not at all. You’re the most special thing I’ve ever found. You’ve given me love and acceptance and peace and comfort and made me realize that I want things out of this life, too. Things I hadn’t realized and certainly hadn’t been pursuing. But the world I live in . . . fuck, this life isn’t—”

  Haven kissed him, happiness, relief, and overwhelming love making it impossible for her to speak. So she poured everything she felt into the way her lips caressed his, the way her hand stroked his hair. And then she looked down into his questioning eyes. “I love you, too,” she rasped. “You own my heart and you always will, because you taught me what love was and you showed me what life could be. You gave me wings, Dare, and they brought me right back to you. And they always will.”

  “You love me?” he asked, raw wonder in his voice.

  “Maybe from the very first time we spoke,” she said, happiness welling so big and warm inside her chest that she wasn’t sure how she could hold it all in.

  “Fuck,” he said, his face crumpling with emotion. He tried to cover it with his hand, and the show of emotion reached into her chest and squeezed her heart. “You saved me,” he said, his voice cracking a little.

  Haven smiled, completely overwhelmed by the perfection of the moment. “We saved each other.”

  Dare heaved a deep, shaky breath. “You’re pretty fucking awesome. You know that?” he asked.

  Her smile slipped into a grin. “I really am.”

  He gave a little coughing laugh and groaned at the same time. “Can’t . . . laugh,” he gasped.

  “I’m sorry.” She stroked his hair back off his face.

  “Don’t ever be sorry for making me happy, Haven. Because you do. Happier than I’ve ever been in my life. I didn’t realize how little I’d been living all these years until you came along. So, yeah, we saved each other. And I just can’t let you go. Not today. Not ever.”

  Which was exactly what Haven wanted to hear. “That’s all I need, Dare. You’re all I need. We’ll figure the rest out.”<
br />
  His fingers toyed clumsily with a long strand of her hair. “Yeah, we fucking will,” he said, strength filtering into his voice. “One day, one night, one ride at a time.”

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  The idea for the Raven Riders, a different kind of a motorcycle club with a protective mission at its heart, was inspired by a real-life organization—BACA, Bikers Against Child Abuse (www.bacaworld.org). BACA works with referring agencies to create a safer environment for abused children. Working with state and local officials, BACA members provide emotional support and a physical presence to help children feel safer and shield them and their families from retaliation or intimidation, often for the length of a police investigation and any court proceedings. I admire what they do so much I wanted to pay homage to the spirit of their mission in the Raven Riders.

  A book is always the result of a collaboration, which was definitely the case with this one. Thank you to Amanda Bergeron for believing in the Ravens and for offering such thoughtful and insightful editorial guidance on the book. It’s an amazing experience to have an editor really get your voice and vision and characters, all of which has made Amanda a great partner on all eight (!) of the books we’ve now done together. I appreciate that so much.

  Thanks also to my agent, Kevan Lyon, who is always such an incredible source of support and encouragement. And thanks to KP Simmon for her positivity, generous spirit, and all the fantastic work she does on all of my books. It’s an invaluable experience to work with such amazing women and have them on your side.

  Next I have to thank fellow authors Christi Barth, who read the book right behind me and offered great comments, and Lea Nolan, who helped me out of more than one plotting problem. Their support, friendship, cheerleading, and help mean the world.

  My next word of thanks goes to Liz Berry of the 1001 Dark Nights project for helping me kick off this series with my novella Hard As Steel. That opportunity gave me the chance to introduce readers to the Raven Riders world, and I appreciate her innovative, generous, and enthusiastic spirit so much. Thanks, Liz!

  As always, I couldn’t finish a single book without the amazing support and help from my family, so thank you to my husband and daughters! Much love to you! And thank you to the Heroes, my street team of awesome, who do so much for me—you guys rock!

  Finally, thanks to the readers who allow my characters into their hearts so they can tell their stories again and again. Your support is everything. Ride on, my friends. Ride on.

  ~LK

  Keep reading for an inside look

  at the next heart-poundingly sexy novel

  in Laura Kaye’s new Raven Riders series,

  RIDE ROUGH

  Coming Fall 2016 from Avon Books

  Maverick Rylan stared at the flower-draped casket and hoped this was the last funeral he and his brothers had to attend for a long damn time. This loss hit him and everyone in the Raven Riders Motorcycle Club particularly hard—because it had happened on their own turf. Inside their own clubhouse. And the victim—prospective member Jeb Fowler—had been too young and too good to get taken out in cold blood.

  The proof of Jeb’s goodness was sitting right beside Maverick. Bunny McKeon, Maverick’s mother, whose face still bore the bruises and scratches from where she’d been struck and her mouth duct taped. But she was alive because Jeb had taken the bullet intended for her when a group of lowlife criminals had broken into the clubhouse looking for something—or someone—that wasn’t theirs.

  Mav’s gaze slid over to his right, where the club’s president, Dare Kenyon, sat with his girlfriend, Haven Randall. Three days out of the hospital, Dare’s face was pale and dark circles ringed his eyes. He’d been shot twice in the same attack that had hurt Bunny and killed Jeb. An attack meant to force Haven back under her abusive father’s control by whatever means necessary. An attack that had ultimately failed, despite the losses the Ravens had sustained.

  It all could’ve been so much worse. Which was true even though Maverick felt like shit thinking that while sitting there in front of Jeb’s coffin. Especially since Jeb had sacrificed himself for Bunny.

  The service concluded and people around Maverick rose to their feet. The June air hung humid and gray. Almost oppressive. The weight of it was fitting. It was as if their collective grief had taken on a physical form.

  Maverick held out his hand to Bunny. With her white-blond hair and dark blue eyes, she was still as pretty as she’d ever been. And every bit as feisty. Well, usually.

  Accepting his help, she gave him a sad smile and rose. Her husband, Rodeo McKeon, steadied her from her other side.

  “Thanks, Maverick,” she said, stepping toward the casket. She pulled a long-stemmed red rose out of the arrangement and brought it to her nose. A moment later, she laid it on top of the lid by itself, her hand resting there for a moment.

  When she turned away, her lips trembled, and when she made eye contact with Maverick, her whole expression crumpled.

  Maverick pulled her into his arms, her tears like ice in his veins. “It’s gonna be okay, Mom,” he said, using a name for her he hadn’t used regularly in years. Everybody called his mother Bunny, and somewhere along the way it had stuck for him, too.

  From behind her, Rodeo rubbed her back. Mav met the older man’s gaze and saw reflected at him the same pain and regret Maverick felt. Normally, Bunny was the youngest sixty-something you’d ever meet, but the attack and Jeb’s death had left her fragile. And Maverick fucking hated it. Not because he thought her shakiness wasn’t warranted, but because it reminded him of another time: When Bunny’s first husband—Maverick’s father—had beaten her so badly she ended up in the hospital for days.

  That had been seventeen years ago, but not a day had gone by when Maverick hadn’t blamed himself for not realizing what was going on, not being there, not protecting her.

  Maverick’s gaze slid over Rodeo’s shoulder to the casket. I wish there was something I could do to repay you, Jeb. But you can believe I’ll never forget.

  “I’m okay,” Bunny said, wiping at her cheeks. She patted his chest. “Thanks, hon.”

  Rodeo gave Mav a nod that said he had her, and Maverick didn’t doubt it. Not only was Rodeo one of his brothers in the Raven Riders, he was also the best thing to ever happen to Bunny.

  “Are you coming to the clubhouse?” Maverick asked. Bunny hadn’t been back since the attack five days ago, which was totally unlike her. Normally, she spent part of every day there, often cooking one or more meals for whichever Raven happened to be around or drop by.

  “Yeah,” she said. “We’ll see you there.”

  “Okay,” he said. With a last look at Jeb’s casket, Maverick turned for the drive that wound through the rolling hills of the cemetery. Motorcycles formed an unbroken wall of steel and chrome almost forty deep. The whole club had turned out to pay their respects. As it should be when a brother took his last ride.

  As vice president, Maverick’s bike was at the front. Normally, he’d be riding second position behind Dare, but the gunshots to Dare’s side and arm meant he’d be driving only four-wheel vehicles for the immediate future. So Maverick was riding point. Still standing, he brought the bike to life on a low rumble. And then he waited for Road Captain Phoenix Creed’s command.

  Like the black bands they wore on their arms—made of thin strips torn from a couple of Jeb’s Harley T-shirts—they had traditions they honored when one of their own died.

  A few years younger than Maverick’s almost thirty-five, Phoenix normally wore a mischievous, good-humored expression. Not today. Not when they were burying one of Phoenix’s closest friends not a month after Phoenix had buried his cousin. Their road captain had taken a beating the past few weeks, and it showed in Phoenix’s unusual frown and his lack of joking around.

  When everyone else started their engines, Phoenix finally started his own. Then he turned his throttle and revved his engine until it roared.

  Every biker except one joined in.
<
br />   Roar, roar, roar, roar, roar.

  The five thunderous revs lodged a knot in Maverick’s throat. Because the Last Rev was meant to alert heaven that a biker was on his way home.

  And then all the bikes quieted to a low idle—except one. The one that had remained silent before now roared out. Ike Young, the Tail Gunner of the procession, revved his engine five times, as if Jeb was answering the club’s call and saying his good-byes. One last time.

  When the Last Rev ended, everyone mounted their bikes and the procession got underway.

  Quietly and slowly, they made their way home—back to the Raven’s compound on the outskirts of Frederick, Maryland. Maverick knew he had to at least make an appearance at the reception, though his gut had him wanting to go somewhere else—to the home of Alexa Harmon.

  The first and only woman he’d ever loved. A woman who’d chosen another man over him five years before. A woman who’d shown up at the Ravens’ clubhouse a week ago with a bruised and bloodied face, but ultimately wouldn’t tell him what had happened.

  Her brief reappearance into his life had triggered every one of his protective instincts.

  And as if Maverick hadn’t already been climbing out of his skin with worry over Alexa—whether she wanted him worrying about her or not—Bunny’s attack whipped up all the old guilt inside him and made him must know that Alexa was okay.

  Or, if need be, ensure that she would be okay. Whatever that took.

  Because he’d failed a woman he could’ve helped once, and that failure ate at him a little bit every day, like a slow dripping leak of acid deep inside his veins. Even all these years later.

  Then, Maverick had been young and naïve and weak. He hadn’t realized all the kinds of evil that lurked in the world. But that wasn’t him anymore. And he refused to ever make that same mistake again.

  ALEXA HARMON TORE out of her car and ran into the house, her high heels clicking against the concrete of the three-car garage and then the travertine tiles of the hallway and kitchen. She was late getting home from work, and that meant she was going to be hard-pressed to get dinner on the table on time.