Ride Hard (Raven Riders 1)

He tilted his head to the side, his eyes locked on hers. “Just what?”

Haven swallowed around the knot of fear in her throat. “I just usually expect the worst. That way . . . it doesn’t . . .” She shrugged and rubbed her hands over her suddenly cold arms. “. . . it doesn’t hurt as much when it happens.” Her heart played like a bass drum against her breastbone.

Dare’s expression didn’t change. He didn’t move, didn’t speak, didn’t blink. It gave Haven the impression that he’d just donned a mask, or closed the blinds over the windows of his true reaction. Finally, he gave a single tight nod. “I imagine you have a good reason for feeling that way. Just try to remember that those who’ve seen the most ugliness are also most able to recognize beauty. It comes down to trusting yourself as much as other people.”

Tears pricked against the backs of Haven’s eyes. She’d never heard someone say something so powerful, so challenging, so . . . scary in her life. Not scary because it threatened her, but because of its promise. That beauty existed. That she could see it. That she could choose to see it.

And it all started with her.

It was almost hopeful. But embracing hope was one of the scariest things of all.

She couldn’t believe she was having a conversation like this, but now she was dying to know. “But how do you—”

“Oh, my God, Haven! You came down!” Cora bounded into the big lounge.

Haven spun, hand over her pounding heart. “Crap, you scared me,” she said.

Cora laughed. “Sorry. I was just excited. Actually, I was headed to the kitchen to grab you some food,” she said.

“That’s why I came down,” Haven said. She peered at Dare, and her manners suddenly kicked in. “Oh, have you met Dare? He’s the club president.”

Smiling, Cora nodded. “At dinner. I think I’ve met just about everybody now.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Haven said, giving her friend a smile. Where Haven would rather do just about anything other than meet new people, Cora thrived on it. Even back when Haven still attended school, Cora had always been the one to pull her into new things and introduce her to new people.

“So, let’s go get you something to eat,” Cora said, taking her hand and tugging her toward a door next to the grouping of Ravens photographs. “See ya later, Dare.”

“Yeah,” he said.

Haven looked back over her shoulder toward him, wanting to say something, to offer something. But Cora pulled her into the dining room, where two big long tables sat in front of a large stone fireplace. Over the mantel, the Ravens’ logo hung, carved into a giant slab of wood—a black raven sitting on the handle of a knife that was buried in the eye socket of a skull. Holy creepiness. Over the tables, American and black Prisoner of War/Missing in Action flags hung straight down from the rough-hewn exposed beams that ran across the ceiling. In the two weeks since they’d arrived there, Haven had most visited this part of the clubhouse, so all this was familiar to her.

Chattering as she led them into the kitchen, Cora finally dropped her arm and turned to her. “So everybody’s really nice. You’re going to like them. I promise.”

“Okay,” Haven said, tugging the fridge door open. She’d helped work in the kitchen more than once while they’d been there, so it was probably the one place outside her room where she actually felt comfortable making herself at home. She found lunch meat and cheese for a sandwich. “You can go back to the party, you know. I don’t mind.”

A chair scraped the tile floor. “I don’t mind, either,” Cora said, sitting at the small table along the kitchen’s back wall. Like the rest of the clubhouse, the room itself was older, and its architectural details felt like they’d been inspired by a cabin—lots of wood paneling, exposed beams, and giant fireplaces, but the space had been retrofitted with a modern kitchen equipped to cook for a big group.

Haven set everything she needed on the table and put together a turkey and cheese sandwich with mustard and lettuce.

As she worked, Cora snatched a slice of American and nibbled at it. “So, what were you and Dare talking about? Seemed intense.”

“He was just telling me about the club,” Haven said. Although Cora was right, it had been way more intense than that. At least, it had felt that way to Haven. She took a bite of her dinner.

Cora nodded and waggled her eyebrows, a mischievous expression coming over her face. “He’s hot in a tall, dark, and scary kinda way.”

Haven almost choked on the food. She gulped at a glass of water until she forced the bite down. “You are so bad.”