The cast of her eyes went bleak. “We had two Rotties, Roxy and Xena. He chained me to the dog run in the backyard with them for two days. He put my food in their food dishes, and though the dogs were never mean to me, I wasn’t able to compete with them for it, either. The second night, it stormed. One of the worst storms I’d ever seen in my life—or maybe it only seemed that way because I was out in it. I think the only thing that kept me from going crazy was that the dogs laid right with me all night. They were scared, too. I’m not sure who comforted who more.”
White-hot fury ripped through Dare’s veins. He’d chained her up like a fucking dog? Dare’s imagination unhelpfully provided a picture of what she must’ve looked like, lying on the ground soaking wet, a chain around her neck, dogs huddled up against her shivering body. The revenge fantasies instantly tearing through his mind were gruesomely satisfying. There was little Dare hated more than a cowardly bully who got off on torturing those weaker than him. And Rhett Randall was clearly that in spades. “Haven—”
“I’ve never liked storms since,” she said, as if she hadn’t heard him say her name.
Little fucking wonder. He scrubbed his hand over his lips, the gesture making him realize that his fury had him trembling, had him right on the edge of getting on his motorcycle and road tripping it down to Georgia to put an end to her bastard of a father once and for fucking all.
“Are you okay?” she asked, her eyes searching his.
“Am I okay?” he rasped. “Jesus, Haven—”
She ducked her chin as if he’d reprimanded her.
“No,” he said, forcing her to look at him again. “I will never be okay hearing about all the ways you’ve been wronged. I want to hear them, because I want to know you. I want that, Haven. But right now I would squeeze the life out of your father with my bare hands if I had the opportunity, and watching awareness bleed from his eyes would be one of the most satisfying moments of my life. I would revel in it.”
Her mouth dropped open, and he immediately worried that the violence of his words would scare her, would make her think that her father and he were cut from the same evil cloth. Fuck, Dare had often worried that was true about him and his own father—and it was clear that Butch Kenyon and Rhett Randall had a goddamned scary amount in common.
“You’re the only man I’ve ever known who wanted to stand up for me,” she said, tears making her eyes glassy for the first time. “The only man I’ve ever really known who didn’t want to hurt me.”
The words unleashed a chaos of thoughts inside his mind. He wanted to promise to always protect her. He wanted to rebuild her trust in men one day, one kiss, one touch at a time. And he was terrified that circumstances were about to keep him from being there to do any of it—and that she’d find somebody else instead. Because how could she not? Gorgeous, kind, brave, talented—any man would be privileged to have her.
“I would protect you with my life,” he bit out, surprised by the vehemence of the declaration, but meaning it deep down into his soul. When had her happiness and safety become so fundamentally important to him? How had that happened?
Haven blinked until she reined in the threatening tears. Slowly, tentatively, she cupped her palm around his hand where it still held her face. And then, with a deep breath and in a trembling voice, she said, “I appreciate that more than you’ll ever know, but I wonder . . . I wonder if there’s any way . . .”
The words hung there until Dare thought he’d lose his fucking mind. “What, Haven? Say it. You can say anything to me.”
Those fierce blue eyes looked straight into his, full of a need that reached inside his chest and squeezed. “I wonder if you’d have any interest in helping me live the life your protection has finally given me,” she rushed out.
“Meaning what?”
Heat poured into her cheek under his hand. “Well, you see, I’ve been making this list.”
CHAPTER 19
Haven could hardly believe she’d uttered the words, and a really big part of her wanted to take them back or tell him to forget she’d said anything. Oh, God, why did I say that? He’s going to think I’m ridiculous. He could have anyone, and probably does. He—
“A list,” he said, his tone odd, intense but also wary.
It was enough to make her lose whatever moment of crazy-reckless bravery she’d managed to call forth. “Never mind,” she said, pulling away and trying to step around him.
He caught her easily, his big, calloused hands grasping her arms.
“Please forget I said anything,” she said, panic rising up inside her and making her want to flee. She twisted out of his grasp and stepped to his side.
“Stop,” Dare said, catching her by the hips and pulling her in tight against him. His arms banded around her front—one around her belly and the other snug against the bottom of her breasts. Her breath caught in her throat, as much from the quickness of his movements as from their position. Clearly, Dare could overpower her if he wanted, but she knew in her heart he wouldn’t. Maybe it was reckless and na?ve, but she trusted him. “Haven,” he said, the word caressing her ear.
She shook her head, but she didn’t try to get away.
“Tell me about the list,” he said.