Chapter 16 Raven
I stare into my closet like it’s going to solve my problem magically.
It doesn’t.
Rows of clothes hang there—work blouses, slacks, a few dresses I never wear, and the safe, forgettable outfits that let me blend into the background.
None of them feels right for tonight. The Demon Dawgs clubhouse isn’t hosting a cocktail party…
but it’s also not somewhere I can show up looking like I just clocked out of the office.
My fingers trail over hangers as my pulse ticks a little too fast.
Why am I this nervous?
It’s just a party.
Except it’s not. It’s their world. Carver’s world.
I bite my lip and push past the sensible options, reaching for my favorite pair of jeans. The ones that hug my hips just right and make my butt look—okay, objectively—amazing. Confidence in denim. I step into them and glance at myself in the mirror, already feeling a tiny bit steadier.
“Okay,” I murmur. “Better.”
Next, I dig out a soft green tank top, the color bringing out my eyes in a way even I can’t ignore. It’s simple, but it fits me well—feminine without trying too hard. I pull on a lightweight, waist-length cotton jacket to finish it off, giving myself one last once-over.
Not bad. Hot, but not like I’m trying too hard. Sexy without being slutty. Yeah. This will work.
My gaze shifts to the small collection of self-defense items on my dresser.
The taser. The knife. The pepper spray.
For a second, I hesitate.
But this is the clubhouse. Carver will be there. The others, too. It’s probably the safest place I could be.
Still…
I grab the pepper spray and slip it into my pocket.
Just in case.
My reflection stares back at me—nervous, yes—but also determined.
“Okay,” I whisper again, grabbing my keys. “Let’s do this.”
I’ve never been to the clubhouse, but I find it easily.
Walls stretching out on either side of the open gate are a reminder that only those invited are allowed inside.
The security reminds me of Crossroads. This shouldn’t be a surprise.
I know the Demon Dawgs were the ones who designed the shelter's security, too. They put even more effort into protecting those seeking safety behind the gates. Women and children who have escaped abusive homes found that safety behind the towering walls of Crossroads. Caitlin’s gift to San Diego.
She built Crossroads using money left to her by her grandmother.
I’ve been there several times, often accompanying Athena when she visits the site.
The place is amazing. Even though walls surround it, Caitlin and the other Old Ladies transformed the inside into a paradise.
Axel, whom I met the previous day, stands guard at the gate. He waves me through. Before I can put my car into park, my door opens. Carver stands there with a grin on his face.
“You made it!” he says, offering me his hand.
I take it and let him pull me out of my car.
“I did,” I grin back.
“Let’s go inside, and I’ll get you something to drink. You can meet the rest of the guys. Athena is on her way with Ranch. He has a new ranch manager who had a few questions.”
“I heard his old ranch manager was working against him,” I say, remembering what Athena told me after I left the hospital. It seems that when Tony was attacking me, Ranch’s former ranch manager was attacking Athena. Luckily, we both survived.
“Yeah. Byte and Smoke vetted her. I haven’t met her yet, but Ranch was impressed and pleased when she took the job.”
“She?”
“What’s the matter? Can’t believe a woman can be a ranch manager?” Carver asks with a smirk.
I chuckle. “No, I’m of the mindset that women can do anything. Although I admit I’m surprised a biker hired a woman to do what many would consider a man’s job. It’s not like you have any female bikers.”
“Ah, that’s where you're wrong. We may not have a female biker here, but we have two in our Vegas Chapter. We also have Izzy. You know she’s prospecting, right?”
I nod. “I know, and she’s really hoping to make the cut. I shouldn’t have said what I said.”
He shrugs. “Don’t worry about it. You’re mostly right.
Puma may have patched in Chill and Viper, but he’s the only President who has.
So far. It’s a change from the norm. I haven’t met Ranch’s new manager, but I know she’s impressed Ranch, which isn’t easy to do.
Now, what do you want to drink? Wine? Beer? Something stronger?”
“I’ll take a beer,” I say.
While Carver heads for the bar, I glance around the room.
I see Caitlin and Kingsley across the room and wave.
They both beam at me and wave back. I see some of the other Old Ladies and a few women that I don’t recognize.
Most of the Old Ladies are dressed similarly to me.
They’re in jeans and t-shirts. They gather in small groups, leaning back against their men who hold them close.
A few other women are wandering around solo.
I realize they’re Kutte Bunnies when they sidle up to the single guys to run hands down their chests.
Someone with green hair walks out of the kitchen to place a plate of food on the table. I recognize Jinx. She turns and spots me. She offers a quick nod before disappearing back into the kitchen.
“Here you go,” Carver says, rejoining me as he hands me a bottle of beer. I’m pleased to see that the beer he gave me is one of my favorites—a craft beer from a local brewery.
“What did you guys do after I left you yesterday?” I ask Carver.
Carver’s smile widens. “Oh, I can’t wait to tell you the story.”
Carver’s hand closes around mine before I can overthink anything, and just like that, I’m being pulled through the noise and movement of the clubhouse.
“C’mon,” he says, glancing back at me with a half-smile. “Let’s get something to eat, and I’ll fill you in.”
He leads me straight to a long table, and I actually stop short.
“Wow.”
The table is packed—no, overflowing—with food. Jinx didn’t just set something out. She went all out. Different sections stretch along its length, each offering something unique. Mexican, Italian, Indian, Chinese, American… It’s like a world tour on folding tables.
“You weren’t kidding,” I say.
Carver smirks. “Told you.”
I grab a plate, trying not to look as overwhelmed as I feel. Everything smells incredible, and my stomach chooses that moment to remind me I barely ate today.
I start simple. Two tacos—because there’s no way I’m passing those up—then I move to the Chinese section and grab three egg rolls.
I hesitate at the next section before scooping up some hummus and a couple pieces of pita bread.
By the time I reach the end, I add a helping of potato salad for good measure.
Balanced…ish.
Carver, on the other hand, is not even pretending to hold back. He piles his plate high with a little of everything, like he’s preparing for battle instead of dinner.
“You planning to share with the table?” I ask dryly.
“Nah,” he says. “All mine.”
I laugh as he nods toward an empty table. “Let’s sit.”
He leads me to a table tucked slightly away from the crowd. The noise fades just enough as we sit, plates full, knees brushing under the table.
And suddenly, this feels a lot less like a party…
…and a lot more like something else entirely.
I take a deep breath to center myself before focusing on Carver.
“So, what happened yesterday? Did you confront the kids?”
“Yeah.” He nods. “Tracked them out to Lake Chullas Park.”
I set my food down, suddenly not as hungry. “What were they doing out there?”
“Living,” he says simply.
That one word hits harder than anything else.
Carver drags a hand over the back of his neck before continuing. “They created a small campground in a clearing. They had sleeping bags and a fire going while they ate the fast food they brought on the way out of town. It wasn’t just the two from the swap meet.”
My chest tightens. “How many of them?”
“Four. Two boys, two girls.” His voice softens just a fraction. “Young, Raven. Youngest can’t be more than eight.”
“Eight?” The word comes out sharper than I intend. I shake my head. “That’s… that’s not okay.”
“No,” he agrees. “It’s not.”
I lean forward, lowering my voice even though no one’s paying us any attention. “Did you talk to them?”
“Dante did.” Carver’s jaw shifts slightly, like he’s replaying it. “Kid in charge—sixteen, maybe—he did most of the talking. Said they ran after their dad died.”
“And their mom?” I ask, already bracing.
Carver’s expression darkens. “I don’t know what happened to their mom. They have a stepmom, and she’s not someone they were safe with.”
I swallow, my appetite completely gone now. “So they’ve just been… surviving out there? Stealing from you because they have no other choice?”
“Looks that way.”
I sit back slowly, processing it. The noise of the clubhouse fades into the background again, replaced by the image in my head—four kids in the woods, trying to build a life out of scraps.
“They’re not criminals,” I say quietly.
Carver studies me. “Didn’t say they were.”
“But they’re going to get treated like they are if someone else finds them,” I press. “Or worse.”
“Yeah,” he says, voice low.
I meet his eyes. “So what happens now?”
“We’re working on it.”