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Haven’s expression was nearly rapt as she listened to him. “Which was?”
“That I never make the Ravens into the kind of club my father’s Diablos were.” He finished his first slice and wiped his fingers on a napkin. “A lot of bikers are drawn to clubs not only because they want to share in the motorcycle lifestyle with others who know and appreciate it, but because they also want to live life on their own terms. Some clubs, like the Diablos, take that a step further and want to live life without the restraints and oversights of rules and laws and authority. Instead, they want to make the rules and be the authority, which often leads to territorial disputes and conflicts with other clubs or gangs or criminal organizations. They go on the offense to secure territory and have no problem using violence—in some places, your number of kills or prison terms is often a way of proving your loyalty and moving up in the organization.”
Haven nodded as she grabbed a second slice of pizza. “Okay,” she said.
“Doc didn’t want that for us, and having lived it in my father’s club, I agreed. We believe in live and let live. We’ll resort to violence in the interest of self-defense if we have to—we’re not going to let anyone push us around. But we specifically chose business interests for the club that would create the least likelihood for treading on anyone else’s toes.”
“The racing?” she asked, her tone still interested and not at all disapproving.
Dare nodded. “And the betting that takes place around it, yeah. That’s our primary asset. We also do some trucking escorts in the region—we’re hired to provide additional security for sensitive or high-value transports. Basically, we make sure things get where they’re going unmolested. I’m not going to sit here and tell you all this is on the up-and-up by the feds’ book, but we try to keep out of guns and drugs as much as possible, because that’s where the biggest contentions arise.” Given her background and her father’s criminal activities, Dare wasn’t sure how she’d react to a frank admission that they weren’t a hundred percent aboveboard.
“And how did protecting people come into it all?” She took another big bite of her pizza, her seeming acceptance of what he was sharing encouraging him to dig into another slice himself. He hadn’t realized that he’d care what she thought of him and the Ravens, but talking to her like this made him realize he did. It mattered to him for reasons that weren’t entirely clear and probably didn’t make a shitload of sense. But it mattered all the same.
“It really started with Bunny,” Dare said, his memories easily taking him back to when her first marriage unraveled in the most violent of ways, the law doing almost nothing to protect her.
Haven’s mouth dropped open, surprise shaping her pretty face.
Bunny’s history was pretty widely known by the club, so Dare wasn’t talking out of turn by telling Haven, and Bunny had been known to tell some of the women that landed here herself when it seemed like it could help. “Her first husband—Maverick’s father—had always had a controlling streak none of us liked, but Bunny seemed happy with him, and as long as she was, we didn’t make too much of it,” Dare said. “But then he lost his job and Bunny was bringing in most of their money working for me and Doc at the racetrack, which caused all kinds of problems, especially as his paranoia grew that she was running around on him with a Raven. She wasn’t, but of course that didn’t matter. There was no convincing him. When the abuse started, we closed ranks around her until he agreed to a divorce and a restraining order we were willing to enforce however necessary. That whole experience changed a lot of things for me and Doc and Maverick. Made it personal. Made it something we wanted to be able to do for others like her if we could.”
“It’s hard to imagine Bunny . . .” Haven shook her head. “She’s so amazing.”
The affection in her voice for his aunt reached inside his chest and squeezed. “She’s the best.” A long pause, and then, “What we were able to do to help Bunny also struck home with me for another reason.”
The pizza was suddenly a rock in his gut, but while the idea of telling Haven about his worst failure was about as appealing as going ass-over-ears on his bike, it was also kinda freeing, too. To be wholly known was not something Dare permitted often. But Haven had shared some of her deepest and darkest with him, and he felt like he needed to return the gesture. Anyway, she’d be gone soon. And if it changed the way she looked at him—for which he wouldn’t blame her—little would be lost. A major gut check belied the thought, but Dare ignored it like a motherfucker.
