Hammer: M.C. Biker Romance (Great Wolves Motorcycle Club Book 13) Read online

  Right before the end of lunch service, there was a lone man seated in my section. My heart stopped when I saw him. I had recently spent plenty of time with bikers, and this guy was a biker if there ever was one. He had a jacket that read Hammer. It wasn’t a Devil’s Hawk patch that I could see. It was some other club.

  Why the heck did he have to sit in my section? My shift was technically over. I decided I was not going to be waiting on this man, Hammer. I had my fill of bikers, and who the hell knows, maybe they all knew each other. I was getting out of there before I was stuck waiting on him. I didn’t want to press my luck that I was on some biker radar.

  “Hey Carrie, I’m wondering if you want to wait on that guy that just sat in my section? He’s the only one left, and I need to punch out to get some things for my new place.”

  Carrie, the waitress in charge of this shift, looked out to the table.

  “Heck yeah, I’ll take him. Jesus, he’s hot as fuck.”

  “Oh? I didn’t notice.” I had noticed he was tanned, had close-cropped dark hair, and a razor-sharp jaw. But that hardness could spell disaster for me. I was done with bikers and their bad boy bullshit. I’d sadly found it wasn’t what it was cracked up to be.

  Carrie went over to the hot biker, and I slid out of the restaurant. I told myself that all the bikers in the world weren’t on the lookout for me and that I was probably just being paranoid. I ran out to my car. I hadn’t been lying. I did have stuff to get for my new place.

  I drove to the store and stocked up on a few microwave meals and a few items for the apartment.

  There were no prying eyes, no suspicious weirdos, no frat boys. Just me and my grocery cart and my need to buy a new bath mat. I finished my shopping and had calmed my suspicious mind down a notch as I pushed my cart out to the car. I saw him when it was already too late to run away.

  “Get the heck away from my car.”

  This Hammer dude was leaning on my car. Like it was no big deal. Like he had a right to be there.

  “Listen, I just want to talk to you, Daniella.” He put both of his hands in the air like I had a gun to his head or something. Shit, he knew my name. My worries weren’t crazy; they were right on. I hadn’t worried enough. I hadn’t run far enough.

  “Obviously Rex sent you. Get the heck away from my car.” I was losing it. I looked around. Would anyone hear me if I screamed? I knew I couldn’t count on it.

  “Look, you’re in danger. Rex wants you safe. You’ve heard too much, and he’s worried.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Yes, he just wants you back with his M.C., so he can protect you. He sent me to make sure you’re okay.”

  Rex had made me sit there outside his office at the club, outside his room, just outside his life, and I had heard a lot. I did know things that I would never tell, that I knew were suicide for me to share.

  “You can tell Rex that I’m safe and that I’m quiet.” I gave this Hammer character a pointed look. I wanted him to go, away, I wanted him to tell Rex I was cool.

  “You can tell him that,” he said and took a step toward me. Shit.

  “I can’t really, I have a new job, and I need the job, and honestly, I am safe here, no worries.” I didn’t know how to play this. I needed time. I needed to get away from this man.

  “Miss – Daniella, I have a job too, and it’s to bring you back to Flat Rock.”

  The man was serious, scary, and cold as ice. My smiling assurances were doing jack and squat to get me out of this situation. I decided to improvise.

  “Wow, okay, well, I have milk in here, and ice cream. And I can’t afford for it to go bad. Can we finish this conversation at my place? I mean, if I’m in trouble, I want to know from where. And I can’t just leave this second. So, would that work, we head to my place?" I knew damn well the trouble was leaning on my car right now. I wanted to be as far away from him and the Devil’s Hawks as possible. I needed to bolt. So, I lied my ass off.

  “Sure. That’s fine.”

  “Okay, then maybe follow me, and we’ll figure out what’s next after I get this stuff unpacked.” I smiled. I tried to look grateful. I wanted him to think I was being honest and not totally spooked.

  “Sure, let me help you. My name’s Hammer.”

  “Yeah, I can see that.” I smiled, what I hoped was my most cheerful smile. My mind raced. He helped load my groceries into my trunk. Where Rex was lanky and all sinew, this guy had muscle on muscle. If he wanted to snap me in two, he wouldn’t break a sweat doing it. Which was a fact that made me sweat. I needed to get far away. Fast.

  “Meet you at my place.” I smiled at him again. I had to turn on whatever charm I had to make him think I trusted him.

  I got in my car, and he got on his bike behind me. I had no experience with losing someone who was following me. None. Except what I watched on tv or movies. But that was exactly what had to happen. I had to get away, and the only safety I had was in my car with him locked out of it.

  I drove through Petoskey on Bay View Road. It ran along Little Traverse Bay. I didn’t know where my best option for getting rid of Hammer would be, but I bet I had to do it while there was traffic and places to turn. On the open highway, I’d be a sitting duck. Maybe? It was all guesswork and improvising on my part. How did they do it in the movies?

  A yellow light provided the first option. I went through it a too little fast. It turned red, but Hammer’s bike skirted through the red and avoided any traffic coming his way. Where were the cops when you needed them?

  I noticed him following me a little more closely now. He was getting the idea, probably, that I was trying to lose him. And I was running out of Petoskey. I started driving faster. How the heck does a person disappear in traffic? I turned down a smaller street. And, sure enough, he was still back there, two cars back, but behind me. Well, two cars. That was something. Maybe I could make it three cars. Get another turn ahead of him and keep pushing my luck?

  I was at a stop sign. It was now or never. If I turned fast, and then turned again, he’d at least lose visual contact, and I could figure out a plan once there was distance between us. Everything of value – which meant my money – was safe in my purse. I had nothing I really needed at the apartment. If it was important, it was at Granddad’s or in storage. I could run again without looking back. This time I’d drive out of state. Whatever I’d think of a plan after I got rid of Hammer.

  I made a right turn. I sped up. He wasn’t behind me. This was good. Okay, okay, what next? I made another right turn, fast. Too fast. I guess I hit the curb, and from there I lost control of my car. I slammed on the breaks, but it was too late. I hit a tree, and my body went lurching forward. My head hit something. I hadn’t taken the time to put on my seatbelt. Why didn’t I have my seatbelt on?

  I must have hit my head hard enough to… what was it? When you hurt your head?

  Everything got foggy, the last few minutes. I was running from something? I had my hands on the wheel, and for a moment I didn’t know what to do.

  There was a tap on the window of my car. It was that biker, Hammer. He’d helped me with my groceries. That was nice, he was trying to help me now. Was he my friend? Was he why I was running?

  “Open your door, you need to unlock it.” He was trying to get me out of the car. I couldn’t figure out why.

  “Listen to me, Daniella. Your airbag didn’t go off. It might now. And that will hurt. You need to unlock. I’ll help you out.”

  Hammer was handsome, beautifully so. I registered that. And he looked worried. I fumbled for the door lock and popped it.

  Hammer opened the door and put his hand out to me. My hand was so small compared to his, I noticed.

  “Slowly,” he said, and I swiveled my legs out on to the pavement. As I did, a huge popping noise scared the crap out of me. In the same motion, Hammer pulled me forward and into his arms. I looked back to see the airbag had exploded, just like he’d warned it would.

  “Shit,” I said.


  “You’re okay? You know your name? Your address?”

  “Daniella Moore. I just got an apartment Bay Terrace Courtyard, number 39. It’s super small but the rents do-able,” I told him.

  “Okay, that’s good, really good. We need to call a tow truck.”

  “Not the police though, okay? I mean, I don’t have insurance right now and...” I started to panic about that. What was this going to cost? Would I be arrested?

  “Okay, no. No cops. You didn’t hurt anything but yourself and your car. I’ll just call a tow. But you need to see a doctor, go to the E.R.”

  “NO.” I may be a little fuzzy, but I also knew a trip to the E.R. could be thousands of dollars. I couldn’t afford that any more than I could afford the car insurance or repairs. I felt the sting of tears in my eyes. This was a disaster. I needed to run from him, this, uh, what’s his name? Oh, yeah, Hammer. But he was helping me. Why was he helping me?

  “Okay, look, I’ll take you home, Bay Terrace Courtyard.” He got on a cell phone. I heard him quickly call for a tow. And then he called somewhere else.

  I put my head in my hands. I realized there was blood on my face. Oh God, was I covered in blood? I walked to his bike and looked in the mirror. And was a little relieved. There was a small cut over my eyebrow. It was no big deal. I was fine. I needed to pull myself together.

  “Okay, so twenty-four hours or so? Yeah, name, address, all that, seems fine. Will do.”

  “Who was that?” I asked Hammer.

  “Dial-A-Nurse. Just checking on whether you need to go to a hospital.”

  “No, I said, this is fine. I’m fine.”

  “Okay, I’m going to help you on my bike. You hold on to me. I’ll go slow, and we’ll get you back to Bay Terrace Courtyard.”

  “Thanks. Oh, my purse! And the ice cream? And the bath mat and…” The items I’d purchased with my scant savings were ticking off in my head. This was good. I remembered some stuff.

  “Okay, hold on.” The big scary biker went to my car, got my purse, and the three bags I’d gotten at the store.

  “You’re going to have to let go of the ice cream, that’s already melting. But I’ll put the rest of your stuff on the back here.” He showed me how he’d crammed my stuff into the side compartment of his gigantic bike.

  “Okay, I really did want ice cream though.” What the hell was I rambling on about?

  He got on, and I leaned in and put my head on the back of his shoulder.

  “I said hold on, can you hold on?”

  “Yep. I may have just wrapped my car around a tree, but I’ve got mad sit here and do-nothing skills!” I was joking around with this man. I had been running from him, I knew that for sure now. Yes. Why was I running? It was all a little jumbled up in my head. Once I got back to my place, I’d sort it out. All I knew was he was being nice to me now. He was helping me. I needed help.

  My head throbbed a little, and it hurt to think too hard about what had me driving like a maniac and crashing my car. Had it been a few minutes ago? An hour ago?

  I needed rest. And time to sort out what the heck was happening. Hammer drove slowly. I held on. I had to trust him to get me home. I had no other choice.

  Nine

  HAMMER

  She’d tried to ditch me. I didn’t blame her. I was a scary biker, and she was running from a scary biker. I had planned to catch up with her and haul her ass back to Flat Rock immediately.

  I watched her weave through traffic trying to lose me. She’d lured me into her little world with that sexy smile, and I’d gone along with her plan to bolt. Fuck me, man.

  And then she crashed. I didn’t see the crash, but I pulled up on it a second or two later. My heart was in my throat. I ran to her. She was bleeding. Fuck. I’d seen a lot of banged up faces in my life. Seeing the blood trickle down her pretty face made me sick to my stomach. What the fuck was my problem? I snapped out of it and got her out of the car.

  She was listening to my instructions and doing what I was telling her to do. She was confused. That was clear. But I think she was okay, I wasn’t going to take her word for it though. The Dial-A-Nurse lady told me what to do. I’d done my share of field first aid. I knew what to do. Why was this any different?

  I got it though. The money, she didn’t have any. Though if she was Rex’s old lady, or whatever the hell, she ought to have some coin. She was clearly on the run from him, as much as away from me. She wasn’t going to want to go back any more than I wanted to take her right now.

  I arranged to have her car towed. The front end looked pretty crunched up to me. I felt bad for her. If she couldn’t afford insurance or going to the doctor, she was going to be SOL on vehicle repair. I had to stop worrying about her issues. I just had to get her back to Flat Rock. That was it.

  But there was no way I was going to drive four hours with a woman who probably had a concussion on the back of my bike. Plus, it was getting late. We were close to sunset. I was fucked in every way possible right now.

  Except I knew where she lived now. And I had her on my bike. I also, for now, had her trust. I was responsible for her crashing her car, and I felt bad about it. I would get her home and make sure she was okay. Then, tomorrow, I’d get her back to Flat Rock and be done with this shit.

  I felt her lightly press against me. She was soft. She smelled good too, like lavender or some sort of fresh flower. It wasn’t perfume. It was something fresh about her. I had the feeling that I wanted to drive longer with her back there. I had to shake that shit off, fast. This woman wasn’t mine. I was here to do a job and get it over with.

  We got to her place. It was a shitty row of one-story apartments. I figured the rent had to be minuscule. She didn’t fit in this space. I helped her off the bike, and she bobbled a bit. I offered my arm to steady her, and she took it. Then she smiled up to me. Goddammit.

  She needed me, she needed help, and her smile was like a fucking jolt inside my chest. She found her keys quickly, and I got her inside. It was tiny, but it was neat. I felt like I was way too big for the space. There wasn’t anything in here that let me know who she was, except she’d cleaned it, that was clear. She’d made it neat. I wondered how long she’d planned to be here.

  I got her shit from my bike and brought it in while she sat on the couch. I put her stuff on the cheap table tucked away in the efficiency kitchen.

  “Oh, that’s, ow.” I heard her say to herself, rather than to me. I walked over to her, sitting on the ugly couch that clearly came with the place, just like the table. I was wrong about the place: there was something that made it hers. She’d draped a crocheted blanket over the back of the ugly couch. I remembered seeing a similar one at her Granddad’s.

  “What’s wrong?” I bent down to get a closer look at the cut on her forehead.

  “Nothing, just this. No biggie.”

  “You got anything, first aid kit?”

  “No, I uh, just moved so no.” I had a first aid kit in my bike.

  “Wait.” I ran out and grabbed the small kit I kept. It was a remnant of my life as a marine. I was prepared for a lot of shit because I’d been through a lot of shit.

  “Come here.” I spread my stuff out on her table. She stood up and bobbled again. I was going to have to watch her closely. Maybe she’d hit her head harder than I first thought.

  “Whoa sister, take it slow.”

  “I’m fine.” I put a hand out again for her, but she ignored it. I pulled out a chair at her table, and she did sit down.

  “Let me.” I opened an antiseptic swab.

  “This is going to sting.”

  “I said I’m fine.” Some of her distrust of me returned. Which fucking made sense. I was sent here to essentially kidnap her back to the fucking Devil’s Hawks.

  “I’m going to clean it, and we’ll put a bandage on it.”

  “Um, I can put a bandage on myself.”

  “Yeah. Except you don’t have bandages. Now close your eyes.” She clenched her jaw but then complied
with me. I carefully dabbed the blood away. I knew it stung, but she didn’t flinch.

  “This isn’t too bad. Won’t leave a mark on your pretty face.”

  “An overly dramatic amount of blood,” she said, and her breath was on my cheek when she spoke. I did not want to be noticing this. I did not want to notice how soft her skin was as I touched her face. She was vulnerable, and I didn’t want to take advantage of that. Any more than I already was by getting inside her apartment.

  “Cuts on the face always bleed.”

  “Oh, really. You’re a doctor now?”

  “No, a marine though. This is not the first boo-boo I’ve seen.” She laughed at that. Shit. I got a little thrill at that, at making her laugh. This close to her, I could see she didn’t have a speck of makeup on. And she still looked like a million bucks. I also noticed sexy little freckles on the bridge of her nose. Fuck fuck fuck.

  “A marine, so you’re a good guy then, eh?”

  “I suppose, depends on who you ask.”

  She opened her eyes, and her face was maybe two inches from mine. I looked at her. I couldn’t help it. She returned my stare.

  “I’m asking you,” she said. I didn’t have an answer for her. This girl was too trusting. Maybe a shitty judge of character? She’d let Rex Lynch into her life and now me into her apartment. If she were my daughter or sister or girlfriend, I’d be yelling at her for it.

  “Head back to your couch. Rest is the best thing for you, but I’ll be waking you up every so often, to be sure you aren’t dead.” I put up my best hard-ass expression. I needed to remember what I was here for. Why I had agreed to do this. I needed to harden myself against whatever her story was.

  “You’re staying here?” She moved back in the chair, away from me. Her body went from trusting to tense. It made me feel like shit. I wanted her to trust me. I shouldn’t care. I should force her on to my bike and get the fuck back down state. But she was weak and needed help right now. I’d get her back to the Hawks tomorrow. That would have to be soon enough. Hell, I had time; they had no idea I’d find her so quickly.