Chapter 5 Haven
Haven
Warden introduces himself naturally, but Hammer clings to his name like it’s a secret. Their names are telling, and I shiver each time I meet another one of them.
“Crimson Road made their move,” Ripper says calmly, though his tense fingers reveal underlying stress. “Judge knows but won’t act yet. I need to visit Meadow Falls, but I don’t want to go alone.”
“Judge told you to stay here.” Hammer doesn’t bat an eye as his arms cross heftily over his chest. “Specifically, you.”
Ripper tilts his head back to let out a laugh. “Exactly! But you two? You guys are free to do whatever you please.”
Warden scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Pretty sure he doesn’t need to tell us each to keep our asses out of trouble. It’s common sense. Then again, you do have some screws missing.”
That confirms my suspicions about Ripper. I expect anger from his insult, but he has a sly smile like when he caught me snooping. His eyes are empty behind the smile, hiding his thoughts. Talk about scary.
His hand leaves my arm, fingers softly stroking my hair, making me more unsettled. “They’ve kidnapped her sibling, you guys. They’re likely torturing them now while she’s here. Do you think they’ll leave anything if she doesn’t return with what they want?”
My heart suddenly hurts, and my eyes water. Could it be poor timing, or just what Ripper wants? His hand drifts to my jaw, cradling it softly as he lifts my face like it’s on display.
Hammer’s nose flares as Warden’s eyes narrow at me.
“Wait, she’s with them?” Warden scoffs. “What the fuck? What is this, a grand tour of our home? You want to show her Stack’s room while you’re at it?”
Ripper sighs, his annoyance seeping through. His thumb strokes my cheek absentmindedly, like he doesn’t realize what he’s doing. It’s not unpleasant. “She’s not a threat. All she wants back is her sibling. Ain’t that right?”
I’m being used right now, I can feel it deep in my bones. Hammer breathes heavier in silence, and I don’t know what he’s thinking. Even if it offends me to be under Ripper’s thumb, I follow along with Paulie as the topic.
As sore as my eyes are from spilling them, I nod and feel the wet streaks fall down my cheeks. Meeting Ripper’s gaze to see if I’m doing what he wants, I’m surprised by his scowl. Before I can figure out what I’ve misunderstood, he’s looking at Warden.
“You two work best in a pair. Come on, you can’t let your best friend go out and get himself killed, can you? Come help us.” Ripper’s back to smiling, using that sweet tone.
“Hammer isn’t fucking—”
“Sure. I’ll go.” Hammer interrupts him after an uncomfortable ten seconds. “For the girl.”
Ripper makes this approving sound as he releases me from his hold. Looking pleased with himself, he swipes at the streaks on my cheeks before pulling away entirely. “Lovely. So, Warden.”
“You’re going to get us killed.” His nose wrinkles as he looks at the other man. “You’re serious? You want to die for a spy?”
Hammer scoffs. “Speak for yourself. I don’t plan on dying.”
Warden throws his hands out of frustration. “Dude.”
Between them going back and forth as they make up their mind, I look toward Ripper. He’s silent, too. Like he knows when he has to speak and when not to, he lets them convince themselves.
Ripper is smart, but terrifying. He wouldn’t be a second-in-command if he weren’t.
“Judge can’t know we had a hand in it.” Warden moves his glare toward us. “No matter what.”
Ripper laughs like he’s told a joke. “I won’t breathe a word. Maybe I can end this. If so, everything returns to normal—our hacker back, and this woman out of our hair.”
Is it me, or had his voice shifted with that last part? Somehow, it doesn’t feel like the truth is leaving his lips.
While Warden shoves his fingers through his hair as if he’s losing years of his life to stress, Hammer mentions going back to their game and starting a new one, as if this discussion is just another conversation for him.
Ripper presses his hand back to the middle of my back, leading me back to the clubhouse.
Like he’s satisfied with himself, he doesn’t bother lingering for any celebration drinks for his success.
Instead, he leads me back to the same room, his room.
Letting out a yawn behind me, I feel the same tiredness in my soul.
What I would do for a good night’s sleep right about now.
He releases me once the door is shut. Stretching like a cat, he moves over to shut the window I escaped from.
“Are you willing to tell me what that was about?” Sitting against the bed, I try not to think about the blankets already being well-used by the man standing only a couple of feet away.
Another sigh falls past his lips. “I can’t help you alone, so I got some help. That’s all.”
“You got in their heads.” Pointing out the obvious, my eyes follow his movement. “That’s not very nice, you know?”
“I’m not nice.” Turning toward me, his head tilts. “I did what was needed to help you.”
I don’t like the concept of people being used for someone’s benefit. I tell him that, too.
Ripper grunts, shrugging a shoulder. “Well, we have the help we need to get your brother back. You should be pleased.”
He’s right, I know he is. There’s still this pressure against my chest that’s bothering me.
“Who are they?” Tucking my knees to my chin, my eyes follow his movement. He’s always moving, like he can’t stay still for long.
“Warden’s always skeptical; he likes to play things safe.
Good with a gun, and he’s devoted to his cause, and his best friend, lucky for us.
For Hammer, he’d take a bullet. I need that kind of devotion.
He’s not the type to let fear stop him.” He shrugs off his leather jacket and hangs it up.
“Hammer reminds me of myself, really. He’s the type to follow through no matter what, especially when it’s something he cares about.
Or, in this case, strikes a chord. Stubborn to the core, maybe a little unstable at times. ”
My brow lifts. “A chord?”
Nodding, his smile softens. “We share a love for our family—sisters in particular. He was just a prospect when he lost his. It was like looking in a mirror, I tell you. I’ve never seen a man lose everything in a matter of seconds. The guy has a soft spot for people’s siblings.”
A lump forms in my throat as he goes on. Does that mean Ripper lost a sister, too? Could that have something to do with why he’s helping me? “What happened?”
Shuffling through his duffel bag, he grabs some clothes and drops them next to me. “Not sure you want the answer to that. It’s nightmare fuel.”
He’s being serious, but curiosity killed the cat.
“We call him Hammer for a reason. I actually pity the bastard who did it. Hammer didn’t want a gun, too quick of a punishment. A knife wouldn’t work, either. The guy would bleed out too quickly. So, he grabbed a hammer.”
Covering my mouth to hide my gasp, the hairs on my arms stand up as my imagination betrays me, revealing a picture that makes my stomach clench up.
Ripper notices, and his mouth pinches together. “Let’s just say he got patched in after that. Judge said he had what it takes for his role, and that’s that.”
“Judge?” Another new name.
“Our version of Blaze.” He dumbs it down for me, but I get it. He’s the leader, the one who calls the shots. I hope he’s less cruel than the other man.
Like he can read my thoughts, he grabs the hem of his shirt and tugs it off in one easy motion. “He’s a good man. Sure, he’s done some questionable things, but he’s always put the club first. Even if that bit is currently biting me in the ass.”
While he’s grumbling, I’m staring at his chest. It’s not the sharp cut of his toned body that makes my heart flutter. It’s the history written there in raised, pale flesh.
He has scars, many, like he’s rushed into danger repeatedly. A puckered wound on his hip is from a bullet; others near his collarbone are jagged. They form a map of violence and survival. I study their paths, curious how many were just lines and how many threatened his life.
Who is this man?
“Keep looking at me like that, and you’ll give me the wrong impression here.” His mouth curves into a smirk, a practiced, lazy thing as he catches my stare.
“They look like they hurt,” I say without thinking, my own body aching. I watch as his smirk transforms into a frown, his eyes shuttering closed.
“They don’t.” Two words that are meant to be a final, solid door slammed between us. But they only sound like a lie, brittle and thin.
“Ripper…” Speaking his name ever so softly, it’s my pity that pisses him off. I can see it in the sudden tension of his jaw, the way his shoulders stiffen. He doesn’t like people caring about him.
The vulnerability in his eyes is there for only a heartbeat—a hidden peek of the man beneath—and I see him desperately trying to patch it. A feeling he clearly despises. Then, it disappears, hidden behind a wall of perfected charm. The mask fits so seamlessly that it’s unsettling.
He moves suddenly, grabbing my wrist. His grip isn’t cruel but solid. He presses my palm on his warm, hard chest over his frantic heartbeat. I feel scars beneath my fingertips.
“Women usually love this part,” he says, his voice dropping into a low, honeyed purr that doesn’t reach his eyes. His smile only seems to grow when I snatch my hand back. “They can’t get enough. But here you are, staring at the flaws. Can’t you enjoy the view?”
I frown at his smile, at the empty, beautiful shell he’s presenting.
“Stop it,” I tell him, my voice firmer than I feel. “Stop doing that. Stop talking sweet and acting fake.”
His nostrils flare, the only sign that my words have hit their mark. The false smile vanishes, replaced by a flat, dangerous line. The air in the room crackles, growing thick and hard to breathe.
“Can you handle me when I’m not acting, Haven?” he asks, the question a soft, menacing whisper.
Before I can form an answer, he moves. In a blur of motion, he’s suddenly here, his body a solid weight that flattens me against the mattress. The breath leaves my lungs in a soft whoosh. He crawls over me, caging me in, his arms braced on either side of my head.
The scent of him fills my senses. My heart hammers against my ribs in a panic that’s only slight because something deeper, something impossible, is rising to meet it.
This man is dangerous in all ways possible. Yet, I need to push, to see what I’m dealing with here.
I lift my chin, meeting his stormy gaze head-on. My lip wobbles as my breathing trembles. “I’m not scared of you.”
He leans down until his lips are barely an inch from my ear. His breath is hot and shaky, like he’s not aware of just how worked up he is. The low rumble that leaves him in the form of his chuckle stills my heart as he accepts my lie as a truth to continue this.
“You should be.”