Breaking Hammer (Inferno Motorcycle Club, #3)

“She - she’s dead,” he said, and I heard his voice crack. The sound triggered a rush of empathy and I swallowed the lump in my throat.

“I’m sorry.” I wished I could say more, that I could say I understood. But it was impossible to understand someone else’s pain, only your own. I could see it, though. He wore his loss like a coat, cloaking him in it like some kind of shroud. He carried it with him, the heaviness apparent.

He didn’t say anything, just looked at me. Finally he spoke. “It’s life,” he said.

“The loss of a great love can be unbearable," I said. "It eats away at your soul.”

"Who have you lost?" He asked the question softly, sadly.

"I -" I started. I had lost the two people in the world about whom I cared the most. I couldn't speak the words. But I didn’t have to explain anything since I was cut off when the door opened.

“Meia, did that fucking computer nerd come and -” Aston stopped short when he saw Hammer.

I stepped back, suddenly aware of how close I’d been standing to Hammer. “Aston. This is Joe - I’m sorry, I can’t remember your last name.”

“Holder,” Hammer said, his eyes narrowing when he looked at Aston.

“You? What the fuck is going on here?” Aston asked. I recognized the familiar flush on his cheeks, the dilated pupils. That was more and more common lately. I took a deep breath and reminded myself what all of this was for. Who all of this was for.

"Mr. Holder was leaving you his card.” I spoke the words slowly, through gritted teeth, already on edge.

"I'm the fucking computer nerd," Hammer said, his expression dark.

“And what were you doing?” Aston stepped forward, pulled me roughly by the wrist, his grip tight. “Spreading your legs for him?”

I tried to pull my arm from him but his grip was too tight.

And then Hammer intervened, positioning himself so that his body was wedged in between Aston and I. He didn't lay a hand on Aston or me, didn't need to. He just used the threat of his presence. "Get your fucking hands off her," Hammer said.

I smiled, the expression barely concealing my hatred of Aston. "Thank you for your help, Mr. Holder," I said. “If you would just leave us your business card, perhaps Aston could call you if he has any questions."

But Hammer didn't move, instead standing there protectively. I watched in disbelief as Aston stepped back from him. I'd never seen him concede to anyone before.

"Would you like to leave?" Hammer asked. I could see his eyes, imploring me to leave, to not stay with a man like Aston. He didn't understand the whole story.

I shook my head. "No," I said, my voice soft. "Now, please leave."

Hammer turned calmly. My heart raced as I wondered where Aston's private security was. I was surprised they weren't here already. I wanted Hammer out of here, before he got hurt. Before he made things worse for me.

"Get him the fuck out of here before I have him taken out of here in a body bag." Aston moved toward the bar, stumbling a little as he walked, pouring himself a drink. I wasn't sure if I was more nervous about what might happen to Hammer, or what was about to happen to me.

I followed Hammer to the door. He paused for a moment and looked at me with a mixture of pity and disappointment in his eyes. He thought I shouldn't be with Aston, that I was being abused. He thought I had traded myself for the trappings of luxury.

He had no idea.

"You should leave," he said, looking at me meaningfully.

"There's more to it than you think," I said. "You must not get involved."

I could see it, the inner turmoil inside him at my request to leave it alone. I could tell without knowing a thing about him that that wasn't the kind of man he was. He wasn’t the kind of man to stand by and watch someone get hurt.

"Wait," I said, my voice soft. I turned and glanced back into the penthouse. Aston had disappeared into the other room. I reached for my purse, and took out a pen and a slip of paper, writing on it before I handed it to him. "Here."

Hammer took it wordlessly, slid it into his bag. "If you need to get out of here…" His voice trailed off, his meaning implied clearly.

It was an invitation, one I could not take. I didn't know why I had given him my number, only that for some inexplicable reason, the thought of him leaving and me never seeing him again made me feel panicked inside.

I watched him walk away, my mind a whirl of activity. Then I closed the door gently, and turned back to the penthouse.

Later, when Aston had me face down on the bed, I thought the reality of my life was too difficult to accept.





I shook my head, trying to get her out of my thoughts after I left the penthouse. Meia. When that douchebag Aston had grabbed her, I had to keep myself from beating him to death. What someone like her was doing with someone like him was unfathomable.

Someone like her.