She looked like a fucking princess ready for a wedding. Raven had also gathered her hair down one shoulder, and if not for the small splashes of ink he saw on the inside of her arms, she looked so fucking beautiful, innocent.
Not the hard-assed biker chick he’d come to know.
Carlos was at a loss for words.
“It’s stupid, isn’t it?” Raven asked.
“Actually, it’s not. You look … wow.”
Raven frowned. “What is it?”
“You look different. Beautiful, so beautiful.”
Her hands clenched and loosened as she nibbled on her lip. “Is it appropriate for a birthday party? I don’t want to embarrass Abriana or Ugly.”
Carlos was about to ask her why she cared, but he knew. They were her family. This wasn’t some club party. This was for a little girl, and Raven was putting in the effort. She wanted to make that young girl’s day, even though the chance of Bella truly remembering that day was slim, perhaps even nonexistent.
“There is no chance of you embarrassing anyone. Trust me. You look the part of a princess. I’m sure the whole club will be astounded by … it.”
Raven chuckled. “Good. That’s good. It’s actually quite comfortable.”
“Do you wear costumes a lot?”
“Nope.” She turned her back and made her way into the changing room.
Carlos found a chair and lowered himself into it. He didn’t know how this woman was single. How none of the club had snatched her up. Did they not see what a fucking gem, a queen they had with them?
“Will you be taking a date to the party?” Carlos asked.
Raven stepped out of the changing room. He’d never known a woman to be ready quite so fast.
“What?”
“To the party. Have you got a date in mind?”
“None,” Raven said. “I don’t date.”
“Ever?”
“No, not ever. I don’t date.” She made her way to the counter.
As she went to reach into her pocket to pay, Carlos handed over his card. “My treat, remember?”
“Carlos, I didn’t buy anything. The clothes you wanted me to try on were awful. They were not me. I can pay for my costume.”
“Already done,” he said, smiling.
She sighed and thanked the young man behind the counter.
They left the store, stopped off at the places where he was picking up clothes to take home, and then they headed for the car.
After opening up his trunk, he placed the boxes inside and then took Raven’s dress, which had a covering to keep it safe. He made sure it wasn’t ruined. When the time came, she was going to make a beautiful bride.
He would have to convince her to marry him. To leave the club behind, but he had no doubt he’d get what he wanted. Carlos always got what he wanted.
He closed the trunk and turned to Raven. As he opened his mouth, someone shot the window of his car.
The glass exploded, and Raven grabbed him as he reached for her. Together, they pulled each other down.
They had spent a lot of time at the mall, and most of the cars were gone.
Another bullet rang out. Raven reached into her boot and pulled out a gun. It was small, and he saw it was a revolver. Carlos reached into his jacket, took out his Glock, and removed the safety.
“That direction,” Raven said, pointing a finger past her shoulder.
At the sound of running footsteps, Raven took off. No hesitation.
“Raven!” He growled her name, chasing after her.
Why couldn’t she do as she was told and behave? He was hot on her heels, catching up with her, but the guy was already in the back of a car. They had no choice but to take cover as shots were directed at them.
Carlos managed to get Raven down on the ground with himself on top of her, keeping her protected. She had to be insane. There was no other explanation for it. She didn’t seem to give a shit about her life, and that just pissed him off.
“What the hell are you doing?” Raven asked.
“Protecting you!”
“I don’t need fucking protection. You’re the one who needs protection!” She tried to shove him off. To stop fighting with her, he moved off her, holding out a hand for her to take.
Raven, so fucking tough and stubborn, shoved his hand away. “Do you have any idea what will happen to the club if you die on our turf?” She shoved a hand in his chest. “It will mean a war with your fucking people. Don’t be so damn careless. Next time, you stay behind.”
“You’re not risking your life for me,” he said.
“Damn it, Carlos, my life means shit, you got that? I’m not important. You are.” She shook her head.
He didn’t like that, and he grabbed her arm. “You are important.”
“No, Carlos, I’m not. At best, I’m a patched-in club member, but I don’t hold any titles other than being the only bitch member. You are the Boss. The fucking leader of the bastard Santiago mafia. You matter, and I don’t. It’s my job to protect you seeing as you’ve been so fucking careless.”