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Normally, riding cured a lot of what ailed Dare. Love of riding was the one good thing his father had given him, the one—and only—way Dare didn’t mind resembling his old man. But today he felt like his bike was delivering him to the gallows.
Goddamnit.
Somehow he had to get his temper under control before he talked to her. He was pissed, and rightfully so, he thought. But that didn’t give him the right to scare Haven, and it was the last thing he wanted to do anyway.
He took the long, long, way-the-hell-out-of-the-way route to the compound.
The chop shop was hopping, but otherwise, the lot was pretty empty, which meant his other board members weren’t here yet. Just as well. It would give him time to talk to Haven and come up with the start of a plan to present to the others.
Inside the clubhouse, Dare was glad he didn’t run into anyone as he crossed the lounge and beelined up to Haven’s room. He gave her door a few hard thumps, and then repeated them against Cora’s door when Haven didn’t answer. Neither of them were there.
Where the hell were they? Dare spun on his heel and made for the stairs again when a thought crossed his mind.
Haven’s notebook.
He hadn’t read it last night because he hadn’t wanted to violate her privacy on top of all the other ways he’d failed her. But all bets were off now that Dare had confirmed that she was withholding important information—important not just for protecting her and Cora but for keeping his brothers and everyone he cared about safe, too.
Dare unlocked her door and slipped inside. The notebook lay on the pillow of the unmade bed. With none of the hesitation of the night before, he picked it up and opened it.
And hoped the news didn’t get any worse from there.
CHAPTER 11
Dare’s eyes scanned down the page. A list of some sort. He flipped through to the end of it, not yet making sense of what it was for. At the top, Haven had written:
To-Dos/To-Haves
Live Dangerously!
The second line made him frown. Living dangerously got people hurt, or worse. Just like what could’ve happened if Haven had been with the wrong kind of man last night when she passed out. Just like could still happen if they didn’t find effective ways to mitigate the risk this reward posed for all of them.
His eyes ran down the first few items, and then the first title of the list made more sense. This was a to-do list for Haven’s life. A bucket list. The thought set off an uncomfortable pressure in his chest. Her father had clearly denied her so much. So Dare had to give her credit for having dreams and goals. It had taken him a while after he’d come to his grandfather’s to feel safe, secure, and stable enough to start making any plans for the future. But here was Haven, a few weeks out from years of virtual captivity and already figuring out what kind of life she wanted to lead.
vKiss a guy
Kiss a lot of guys! (v ? )
vHave fun at a party for once
vWear makeup
vDrink
Dare frowned as he took in that section of to-do items, most of which were checked off—and had probably been checked off last night, with him. Multiple reactions warred through him. She’d told him she’d never drank before, so did that mean all the things on this list were first-time experiences for her? And, if so, did that mean he was the first guy she ever kissed? And who the hell else had she kissed?
“Christ,” he bit out, sitting heavily on the edge of the bed. For the first time, a thread of guilt curled into his gut, because there wasn’t anything here that would help with this reward situation, which meant now Dare was just snooping.
But her words had snared him, and he couldn’t make himself stop reading. Some of the things she wanted to do were so . . . basic that Dare found himself shaking his head in disgust at her father. What kind of life did you have to have experienced to want to put making a mess and not caring on a life to-do list?
He turned the page, and his eyes couldn’t take in the words fast enough.
Ride a motorcycle
Learn to drive a motorcycle
Get a driver’s license again
vHave an orgasm with a man
Have sex. All kinds of sex. Everywhere.
“Holy shit,” he said, scrubbing his hand over his face and feeling even guiltier for continuing to read. But how was he supposed to walk away from the apparent knowledge that the orgasm he’d given her last night had been her first—with a man? Which of course suggested she’d had others that she’d given herself, and the mental image that plastered all over the inside of his brain had him rock hard in an instant. Especially when followed up by list items that had him questioning if she was a virgin and wondering if last night was her first sexual experience. Ever.
