Ride Rough (Raven Riders 2)

Dare chuffed out a laugh and clinked. “I’ll drink to that.”

The hot bite of the whiskey felt good against the back of Maverick’s throat. A couple more of these and maybe he could convince himself he didn’t care about Alexa Harmon anymore. About the fact that her slick scumbag of a fiancé had hurt her. About the fact that she’d so easily dismissed Maverick earlier. About the fact that his fucking blood had been on fire in her presence. Just like old times.

Exactly. Just like old times, she’d made her choice today. And it wasn’t him. Not that he’d expected anything else.

“I’d like you to call a special meeting of Church as fast as you can get it pulled together,” Dare said, yanking Maverick from his thoughts. Church referred to the club’s monthly membership meetings, though recent crises had them meeting more often than usual. “After the shooting at the track, we need to talk damage control where the races are concerned. And we need a plan to deal with the Iron Cross once and for all.”

Maverick nodded. “Yeah, we do. A plan that involves burning their fucking world to the ground.” Stock-car racing and betting were their biggest businesses, and part of the attack on the club last Friday night had happened at the Green Valley Race Track that they operated on the edge of the Ravens’ huge tract of land. The Iron Cross was an up-and-coming gang in nearby Baltimore that was trying to take over the city in the wake of the recent destruction of what had been Baltimore’s most powerful gang. And it was more than a little likely that they’d had a hand in helping Haven’s father and his men attack the Ravens. That shit couldn’t go unaddressed, despite the fact that the Iron Cross denied being involved.

What the fuck else were they going to say?

“I hear you, Maverick. I only regret that I was laid up in the damn hospital and couldn’t act sooner. We’re not letting this go. Trust me.” Dare’s gaze was ice cold.

“Not your fault, D,” Maverick said.

The expression on his cousin’s face said he didn’t agree.

Maverick cleared his throat. “Since we’re on the same page, I’ll put in a call to Nick Rixey in the morning to see what else he and his men might’ve gathered on the Iron Cross’s involvement.” Nick was the leader of a team of former Army Special Ops guys who were opening a security services firm in the city. The Ravens and Nick’s men had worked together on several occasions now and had become tight allies.

“Good. Do that,” Dare said, throwing back a gulp of whiskey. “Because whether the Iron Cross actually told Haven’s father where she was or not, they tried to blackmail us to keep her whereabouts quiet, and in doing so they risked her life. You threaten one of us, you threaten all of us. That’s all I need to know.”

Maverick nodded, the other man’s words reflecting so much about who the Ravens were and what they stood for—family, brotherhood, loyalty. They didn’t usually go on the offensive, but they sure as hell defended their own. On top of that, Dare had a protective streak a mile wide, one he’d come by painfully when his father had killed his mother and brother twenty-plus years before. Add to that what Mav’s own father had done to Bunny, and it explained why the club was in the business of standing up for people who couldn’t do it for themselves. But Maverick had never seen Dare as fiercely protective as he was of Haven Randall. Then again, Maverick had never seen Dare in a serious relationship before, either.

And Maverick was happy for him. He really was. The guy deserved a little slice of happiness, and after everything she’d been through, so did Haven.

Which had Maverick thinking about Alexa again, and about the fact that she deserved happiness, too. Despite her comfortable circumstances now, Alexa had grown up poor and with a mother who had issues—issues that had gotten worse when Tyler died five years ago. And Maverick felt at least some responsibility for that since Tyler had picked up his love of motorcycles from Maverick. Hell, Tyler had become a prospective member of the club at Maverick’s encouragement.

On some level, Mav couldn’t help but wonder if Alexa blamed him for Tyler’s death. Maverick had always wondered if that hadn’t been part of her reason for dumping his ass. He wouldn’t blame her if she did feel that way, because even if he hadn’t been responsible for Tyler’s death, Maverick had sure as hell played a role in setting that particular chain of events into motion. A rock dropped into his gut as the old guilt dug its claws into his skin.

He was damn near an expert at failing those he cared about, wasn’t he?