Ride Hard (Raven Riders 1)

Finally, he released her with a soft kiss and disposed of the condom, and then he helped her on with her jeans.

“Are you okay?” she asked, taking in the more-pronounced circles under his eyes.

“Sure. Why?” he asked, his voice even grittier than usual.

“You look tired, is all,” she said with a shrug. “What are you doing now?”

“Not sure.” He leaned down to look right in her eyes and stroked his fingers through the side of her hair, tucking it behind her ear. It made her chest balloon with emotion. She adored how he always got so close to her, like he couldn’t stand the distance between them any more than she could. Like he craved being all over her. Like he couldn’t breathe when they weren’t touching.

Because that was how she felt.

“Lay down with me for a little while?” Something told her he needed it as much as she did.

Dare took her hand in his and pulled her from leaning against the counter. “That sounds like heaven.”

CHAPTER 27

Fists and knees in the afternoon breeze, Dare and Maverick rode the circuit of guards they’d put into place. Dare’s thoughts raced as he and Mav checked on positioning, brainstormed contingency plans, and made sure their guys were ready for anything.

They were.

Still, dark anticipation hung over Thursday like a motherfucker, and the only thing that got Dare through was the five hours of peace he’d found in Haven’s arms. Her soft, affectionate touch had given his tired body solace. The tightness with which she’d held him had quieted his mind like nothing else. The trust she’d placed in him after he’d messed up so badly humbled him and just leveled him to the ground.

But when he’d woken up, he’d still had only one thought in mind—he couldn’t keep her.

He couldn’t subject her to a constant run of danger and conflict. The Ravens’ protective mission made enemies out of the abusers they guarded their clients against. The longtime tensions with gangs in Baltimore over lucrative sports-betting territory clearly hadn’t died with the Churchmen, and being involved in betting meant being involved in debt collection, too. And that could be a dirty fucking business. Sporadic scuffles with other MCs wanting to build their reps or expand their territory cropped up here and there. And even their trucking escort business occasionally earned them enemies out of those who coveted—or tried to steal—the cargoes they protected.

That was his life. He’d chosen to live with those risks. She hadn’t. More important, she’d lived with danger and risk enough these past eight years. That was really all he needed to know.

Despite the fact that she gave him things no other person ever had. And made him feel things he didn’t think he’d had in him. His head might’ve been settled on the right path forward for her, but his heart felt like it was caught in the middle of something he didn’t understand. Frankly, maybe it was better if it stayed that way.

Coward.

Maybe.

But the last time he’d loved someone—unabashedly, unreservedly loved someone—he’d lost them. More than that, it’d been his fault. And every time he’d gotten too close to untangling the bullshit in his heart these past days, the pain of that loss jolted through him in reminder. So it was better this way. Better to ensure she was safe than chance her life so he might know love. If fighting the fall made him a fucking coward, so be it.

He’d left her still sleeping, a kiss on her hair his silent good-bye.

Dare heaved a deep breath as he and Maverick sped along a country road heading back toward the compound. The warm breeze rushed over his skin, but the ride didn’t bring him the solace it normally did.

Thankfully, the day had been too damn busy to let him sit and spin on things that shouldn’t matter, like whether he should’ve left a note to say good-bye, like whether she’d found the same comfort in him that he had in her, like whether she was wishing she could stay.

Sonofabitch.

He had more immediate things to think about anyway. Dare couldn’t stop running through the events of the day in his mind, looking for things he’d forgotten, searching for other things he could yet do. This morning, Church had gone smooth as glass despite the buzz of adrenaline in the air. Everyone was on the same page where handling the Randall threat was concerned. Everyone was ready to do what they had to do—including to the Iron Cross, when that day came.

Jagger delivered the good news that the sheriff’s office was on board, which was a relief given that the Ravens walked a very fine line in their relationship with them—sometimes helping them out under the table with things the law couldn’t, and asking for a little looking the other way in return where the Ravens’ business practices were concerned. And, after apparently applying some pressure where it counted, Caine had delivered the even better news that the paperwork would be ready before race time on Friday evening—later than they wanted, but still in time to put Dare’s plan into place.