Chapter 23 Carver
Raven stands in the middle of the living room like the weight of the world just dropped onto her shoulders. Her hands tremble at her sides, her face pale beneath the soft yellow light overhead.
“Raven,” I say quietly.
She shakes her head before I can get closer. “I didn’t think about them.” Her voice cracks hard enough to slice through my chest. “God, Carver… what if there were others? What if Tony’s friends—”
I close the distance before she can spiral any further and pull her into my arms.
She folds against me instantly, fingers clutching the front of my shirt like she needs something solid to hold onto. I wrap her tight against my chest and brush my hand slowly down her hair. Once. Twice. Trying to soothe her.
“You couldn’t have known,” I whisper against the top of her head.
“But I should’ve—”
“No.” I tighten my hold when her voice breaks again. “You don’t get to carry blame for monsters being monsters.”
She goes still, but I can feel the guilt rolling through her in waves. It’s in the way she breathes too fast. In the way her fingers twist in my shirt.
“If there are other women,” I murmur, smoothing her hair back again, “we’ll figure out what happened to them.”
Her face presses harder into my chest.
“And if they’re alive, we’ll bring them home.” My voice turns colder, harder. “If not, then we make damn sure those assholes pay for what was done to them.”
For a moment neither of us speaks. The room is quiet except for the low hum of the refrigerator and the distant sound of Shield pacing near the kitchen.
Raven finally exhales shakily. “I hate this.”
“I know.”
“I hate that people like Tony exist.”
My jaw tightens automatically at the sound of his name. “Yeah. Me too.”
I tip her chin up gently until her eyes meet mine. They’re glossy with tears she’s trying hard not to let fall.
“Do you have everything? We need to get back to the clubhouse.”
She nods once, exhausted more than convinced.
“I think I have everything; let me go double-check.”
I watch her disappear down the hallway before turning toward Shield.
He already has his phone out.
“Calling Dante,” he says. “We need Church first thing in the morning.”
I nod once. “Yeah. We’re done sitting on this.”
Shield’s expression darkens. “We need a plan for Tony and every bastard tied to him.”
“We’ll have one.”
He lifts the phone toward his ear, then pauses. “You should call Axel and Simon.”
I frown. “Why?”
“To watch the house.” His gaze cuts toward the hallway Raven disappeared down. “If Tony’s friends kidnapped those women, they probably took them to the house. Chances are that they’ve already disposed of them. However, I still want eyes on that house. Just in case.”
He’s right. I hate that he’s right, but I learned a long time ago that paranoia keeps people alive.
“I’ll call them now.”
Shield nods and starts talking the second Dante answers.
I pull my phone from my pocket, but my eyes drift once more toward the bedroom.
Raven comes out of the bedroom with a black duffel bag slung over her shoulder. The strap keeps slipping, but she barely seems to notice. Her face still looks drained, her eyes shadowed from everything we uncovered tonight.
The second I see the bag, I step forward and take it from her without a word.
“You don’t have to carry that,” I mutter.
Her fingers brush mine as she lets go. “Thanks.”
Babe lifts his phone to tell me he’s calling Axel and Simon for me. He’s freeing me up so I can focus on Raven.
Shield is still on the phone with Dante when I glance toward him. He lifts two fingers in acknowledgment, already deep in whatever strategy discussion they’ve started. He steps outside with Min and Babe right behind him—the three head for the stairs.
“We’ll see you back there,” he says.
I nod once, then reach for the deadbolt.
The apartment suddenly feels too exposed. Too vulnerable. Like danger already seeped into the walls while we weren’t looking. I wait for Raven to step out first before pulling the door shut behind us. I test the knob after locking it to make sure it catches.
The stairwell smells faintly like cigarette smoke and old concrete as we head downstairs. Raven stays close beside me.
Outside, the night air hits cold against my skin.
I unlock Raven’s car and toss the duffel carefully into the back seat before shutting the door. My gaze sweeps automatically across the parking lot, checking shadows, parked vehicles, and movement.
Old habits.
“You ready?” I ask quietly.
Raven nods.
I kiss her softly before she slides behind the wheel. “We’ll surround you, so you don’t have to worry about anyone getting close.”
I hop on my bike and follow her.
By the time we make it back to the clubhouse, Raven looks exhausted down to her bones.
The tension she carried out of her apartment hasn’t eased during the ride over. If anything, it’s settled deeper beneath her skin. She stays close beside me as we walk through the clubhouse.
Normally the noise feels familiar, but tonight it feels far away.
I rest my hand against Raven’s lower back and guide her toward the stairs. “Come on.”
She follows without protest.
The hallway upstairs is dim, lit only by the wall sconces spaced between doors. When we reach my room, I push the door open and step aside to let her enter first.
“You can take one of the guest rooms if you want,” I tell her quietly. “Probably more comfortable than dealing with my snoring.”
That earns the faintest huff of laughter from her, but it disappears fast.
She turns toward me, fingers twisting together nervously. “Can I stay with you instead?”
Something in my chest tightens.
“You sure?”
Raven nods slowly. “I just…” Her voice softens. “I don’t want to be alone tonight.”
“Yeah, sweetheart.” I close the door behind us. “You can stay with me.”
Her shoulders loosen a fraction at the answer.
My room isn’t complicated. Big king-sized bed against the far wall.
Dark dresser beneath the mounted television.
Two nightstands cluttered with random shit—loose bills, spare knife, charger cables, old books I never finish reading.
It’s functional more than impressive, but Raven’s gaze moves around it like she’s trying to absorb the safety of the space.
“You want me to draw you a bath?” I ask. “Might help you relax.”
Raven hesitates before nodding. “That actually sounds really nice.”
“You got it.”
I head into the bathroom and turn the water on hot. Steam immediately starts curling upward as the tub fills. I adjust the temperature before glancing back toward the bedroom.
“Get comfortable,” I tell her. “I’ll be right back.”
She gives me a tired nod.
I step into the hallway, pulling the door mostly shut behind me, and nearly run straight into Caitlin carrying folded towels.
“Well,” she says with a knowing look, “you two look like you’ve had a hell of a night.”
“You could say that.”
Concern replaces the teasing in her expression. “How’s Raven doing?”
I drag a hand down my beard. “Not great. I’m drawing her a bath and grabbing her a glass of wine.”
Caitlin’s eyes soften immediately. “Actually, hold on. I’ve got something that might help.”
Before I can ask what she means, she disappears into her and Scar’s room.
I head downstairs toward the bar, grab a bottle of red from behind the counter, and a glass. The clubhouse is quieter than usual tonight, but I still catch snippets of conversation about Tony Martin as I pass through.
Everybody’s waiting for tomorrow’s Church. The tenor of the room can only be described as pissed off.
Good.
When I head back upstairs, Caitlin is leaning against the wall outside my room, holding a small purple sphere.
She lifts it with a grin. “Lavender bath bomb. Trust me.”
I take it from her. “You’re a lifesaver.”
“I know.” Her smile softens. “Take care of her, Carver.”
Something about the way she says it lands hard in my chest.
“Planning on it.”
I slip back into the bedroom and find Raven standing near the bathroom doorway wearing one of my black robes. The sleeves swallow her hands, and the sight of her shifts something inside me. This feels so domestic. That word should terrify, but instead it makes me happy.
Her hair falls loosely around her shoulders, and for the first time tonight, some of the strain has eased from her face.
“The bath’s ready,” I tell her quietly.
She smiles faintly. “Thank you.”
I walk into the bathroom and drop the lavender bath bomb into the steaming water. It fizzes instantly, releasing the soft scent of lavender into the air. Then I pour the wine and carefully place the glass on the edge of the tub.
“There you go.”
Raven steps closer, her fingers brushing lightly against my wrist. “You’re really good at this.”
“At baths?”
“At taking care of people.”
I don’t know what to say to that.
So instead, I brush my knuckles gently against her cheek before stepping back toward the door.
“Soak,” I murmur. “Try not to think for a while.”
She nods, watching me with those dark, exhausted eyes.
I leave her to the quiet and sit down on the edge of my bed.
The room smells faintly like lavender now.
And sitting here, knowing Raven’s safe only a few feet away, I realize something that should probably scare the hell out of me. Taking care of her feels right. I want her here so I can protect her. Knowing she’s safe with me makes me realize how much I’ve wanted this. How much I’ve wanted her.