Hammer (Reapers Rejects MC Book 18) Read online

Page 3


  Chapter Four

  Healing doesn’t mean the damage never existed. It means the damage no longer controls our lives

  ~Unknown

  Shiloh

  Ashley had the baby yesterday after a grueling thirty hours of labor. I can’t imagine the pain she went through to get their new baby girl, but Blackjack’s called the club and promised everyone as soon as they’re both cleared to come home, he’ll bring them in. He didn’t share the baby’s name yet, but he did tell us it was a girl. He acted like none of us knew, but Ashley can’t keep a secret to herself to save her life.

  Jordyn and Nova have already been running around, preparing for their newest cousin to come home. They bought streamers, a baby girl sign, and a few other cute things. I’m sure they’ll be baking later tonight. If one of Roxy’s youngest girls doesn’t go to some sort of culinary school, I’m going to be shocked. Jordyn and Nova are always wanting to help out with the club barbeques, whether it’s baking or preparing some sides. They’re lovely girls and we’re blessed to have them.

  Stiletto comes in through the front door and scans her eyes across the clubhouse, but once her eyes land on me, she heads over in my direction. I know she was on gate duty this morning, ‘cause when I got back from running to get some groceries, she had to buzz me past the gates. It was her and Ripper posted there.

  “Hey, you busy, or do you have a sec?” She questions me with a concerned look plastered across her deep red-mahogany eyes. She’s typically the type who says it straight, but not today. Today she’s giving me the feeling something’s going on.

  I swallow hard and nod, motioning for her to follow me into the room where we have couches lining the walls and a massive flat screen tv. “Everything okay?” I don’t waste time asking her my question. Obviously, something is going on. Thoughts run through my mind at what it could be, but I’m more worrisome something’s gone haywire with the club. Dracus, Hammer, Razor, and Tex all went on a run this morning to a nearby town and I know they’re supposed to be back any time now. As much as I tried not to, my eyes were locked on the clock today, counting down the time until he came back in through the clubhouse doors. I’ve made a decision when it comes to the two of us. I’m letting the past stay in the past, and I’m going to give this another go between us. I don’t know if it’ll amount to anything, or even if he wants to try this with me, but I know I can’t hold myself back.

  Stiletto clears her throat and brushes her hand through her thick red hair, “Look, I don’t know how to say this, but there’s some lady at the gate. She’s claiming she’s your mother and she needs to talk to you this instant. She’s being a drama queen out there, but no way was Ripper or myself going to let her through.”

  My mother? It can’t be her, can it? “What did she look like?”

  “Eh, blonde, maybe mid-fifties? She has bright blue eyes and she’s super skinny. Wearing a big rock on that finger of hers and has a diamond cross around her neck.” Well, the description she’s given is accurate enough for me to want to see if it’s really her or not.

  “Did she say what she wants?” I haven’t spoken to my mother in a while. Our relationship hasn’t been the same in years, and I haven’t put effort into it in ages. She’s made it clear she didn’t like the way I was living my life, and I made it apparent to her how I didn’t want to live the same life she was living, how the spotlight isn’t something I ever wanted, nor something I was signing up for.

  “Look, I didn’t ask, but the lady has lost her damn mind with the fit she’s throwing. I tuned most of it out, but she said somethin’ about your stepdad.” My eyes go wide at what Stiletto’s said, and now I want to know. I crave it more than anything.

  Instantly, I need to know if he’s hurt, if he’s in the hospital, if he’s on his deathbed. I pray he is. A man like him deserves nothing less than a gruesome, slow death.

  “Thanks for letting me know,” I tell Stiletto, walking past her and out of the room. I head through the club and exit the clubhouse. Pulling my keys out to the new custom ATV I just bought, I throw a leg around her, start her up and drive up to the gate. A rumbling sound comes from behind me, so I glance in my mirror and see Stiletto is on her way back to her post too.

  Sure enough, as I get closer to the gate, it’s obvious to me this woman is indeed my mother. I pull my ATV up under the small carport area where the bikers usually park if they’re posted here. Ripper’s bike is here, and Stiletto pulls in beside me. I dismount my ATV and head over to the gate, looking through the chain-link fence. “What’re you doing here?”

  “Shiloh, goodness, I’ve been trying to get in contact with you for weeks. Do you know the lengths I’ve gone to find you? Ugh, well, of course, you do. I’m here now, aren’t I?” Just like always, she doesn’t give me a second to reply.

  “Can you answer the question, please?” I ask of her.

  Stiletto comes up beside me and Ripper crosses his arms over his chest, looking between my mother and me.

  “We need you to come back home. The state needs to see we’re all a big, happy, blended family. Your—”

  “No. I told you I wouldn’t ever do this again.” My stepfather is in politics, and he always spoke about running for Governor, so I guess he’s finally pulling the trigger. Now that she’s here, right in front of me, I remember a while back she did manage to call me. I was drunk when I answered the phone and she briefly mentioned this to me, but I must not have thought anything of it. Hell, I probably thought it wasn’t going to happen. Fuck, and here we are.

  She blinks rapidly at me like I’ve just struck her across the face. “Don’t be selfish, Shiloh. I’m asking you nicely to please come home and help us on the trail. This has been his dream and even if we have you for a few appearances, it’ll help us on our road to the polls.”

  I take a step toward the fence and glare at her. “I’m not the one being selfish here. If it’s anyone, it’s you.”

  “Oh, that’s rich. You’ve only ever—”

  “Look, lady, I don’t know who you think you’re talking to, but Shiloh is the most selfless person I’ve ever met. She goes out of her way to accommodate people,” Stiletto sticks her nose in our business, but I don’t mind. Honestly, I needed some backup because my mother’s like a rabid dog. Once she has a bite, she just won’t let go. Makes sense why she’s in politics, huh?

  “I don’t know who you are, but you don’t have any right speaking to me in this manner. My daughter and I handle things our own way, so I’d appreciate it if you can mind your own business.” My mother plasters on the fakest smile and looks right at me, opening her mouth and throwing me more bullshit about how I need to go home and it’s not right I’m not supporting the family.

  I don’t even notice Stiletto go through the door in the gate and come up behind my mother until it’s too late. She’s grabbed her by the back of the hair and tosses her down on the ground. “You really wanna talk to me like that lady? Well, fine, but you’re sure as fuck going to get an ass beating with it too.” Stiletto hisses through clenched teeth as she grabs the back of my mother’s hair again and slams her face into the dirt.

  My mother screams, but I don’t even move. If I freak out, it’s only going to make the situation worse. She begins to kick Stiletto and gets a good hit in her mid-section, managing to crawl away a few feet. “I’m going to sue and I’ll own this entire place! I’ll get you put in prison and I’ll take everything precious from whoever owns this property. I’ve just been assaulted!” she screams, as loud as can be.

  Stiletto immediately halts, realizing what she’s done has put the club in major jeopardy.

  My mother looks right at me. “Unless you give me something I want.”

  We stare at each other for a few moments before I clear my throat. “One appearance, and that’s it. I go to one appearance and you forget you ever came here.” I hated my life as a kid in that house, but my life now is with the Reapers Rejects MC and I’m not going to have my bitch of a mother and he
r money-hungry lawyer be a threat to them. When you’re family, you do whatever you can to protect everyone else in it, even if it’s likely going to bring up every trauma of your childhood you buried deep down inside.

  Chapter Five

  Reset, refocus, readjust, restart—as many times as you need to, but never give up

  ~ Unknown

  Hammer

  Dracus, Tex, and I went out on a run early this morning into a neighboring town. We even brought Razor, who Zane is trying to determine if he’s a good match for Amara as the VP down in Mexico. He’s fluent in Spanish, which I’m sure is a plus, and he’s got history in the club life. He was a Nomad for many years but decided it was time to settle down. I don’t know too much about the guy, considerin’ he’s the silent type, but that’s cool. I’m not one of the brothers in the club who needs to know everythin’ about everyone. I respect the fact people want to keep some things private.

  We’ve already been back at the club and it’s just Razor and me out now. Ashley had her baby girl, Rory, yesterday and Blackjack is hoping they’ll be able to come home tomorrow or the following day. Fuck, it’s crazy we have another baby around. Natalie, Grim’s ol’ lady, has been in the hospital for a while now. They’re trying to keep her baby in the oven and she’s on constant bedrest. I can’t remember the technical term for what Natalie has, but I do know she has to be on it, or the baby could die. Grim stopped by the other day for a few hours to check in on his kids. Well, they’re Natalie’s kids from her previous marriage, but they’re as much his now. He loves the damn kids like they’re his blood. Grim’s a good, stand-up guy. Grim ended up telling us when he stopped by that they could schedule a c-section since their baby is viable, but Natalie didn’t want to do that. She wants their baby to keep growing as much as possible, and I can’t blame her there. The woman probably feels like the only safe place for the little one is in her belly. Shit, they’ve been through so much already.

  Now we’re on a run in town checking in with a new supplier for Tart. Ashley is pretty much the woman in charge of the bakery, and she made sure Blackjack knew the list of things that still needed to be done. We just left a baked good supplier who will provide the bakery with flour, almond flour, coconut flour, sugar, extracts, icings, and pretty much everything they need to run the damn place. They didn’t want to give Ashley the same deal they gave the previous owners, but I talked them into it considering she’s keeping things on their menu that were original to their café. Plus, she’s doubled the order every week, so if you ask me, they should be honoring the twenty percent loyalty discount, and now they will be.

  Razor still has his cut on stating he’s part of the Raiders of Valhalla and a Nomad. “You talk to your Prez yet about patching into our club?” I ask him.

  As far as I know, we’ve been allies with the Raiders of Valhalla MC since they founded their club. Patching over into the Reapers Rejects shouldn’t be too much of an issue.

  Razor shrugs his shoulders, “Not yet. I haven’t spoken to Runes about anything official. He does know the conversations I’ve had and for the consistency I want in my life. Turns out they’re setting up a satellite home base in Tallahassee. Our VP’s ex-ol’ lady just died, and he’s gotta take care of the kids and shit. Hell, if I knew we ever would’ve settled down like he’s startin’ to do now . . . I would’ve made a bigger play at gettin’ the VP spot. Fenrir is a good one, but I’ve been doin’ this a lot longer than he has.”

  I lean against my bike and take in the bright sun on this late April day. I think the snow’s finally behind us, and I, for one, can’t wait for it to get warmer. I’m itchin’ to get some time in upstate and have a few days of complete isolation in a cabin, swimmin’ in the water, relaxin’ as much as I can.

  In the midst of my daydream, I spot a familiar face across the street. One that causes me to forget Razor and I were even talkin’ in the first place. I watch the scrawny blond fucker walk up the street and turn the corner, instantly causin’ me to follow him. Now, I haven’t seen him around in ages, but every time I do see him, it means trouble is nearby. His previous employer was the General, and the man has been dead for a while, which means someone else is trying to move into this territory.

  Footsteps are hot and heavy behind me, meanin’ Razor’s followin’ my lead. I turn the corner and spot him smirkin’ like a bastard by a dumpster with someone else across from him. He pulls somethin’ from the back pocket of his jeans and I spot the plastic reflecting in the sun.

  Oh, hell no.

  I run like the wind and tackle the guy, and from the side of my view, Razor’s running past me to grab whoever the other guy was. I grab him by his collar and turn him around, and Donnie, the slimy fuck smirks. “Shit, I thought you missed me.”

  “Cut your shit out. Where’d you get that shit?” I snarl, grabbin’ the packet of clearish blue glass from his hand. I check for a seal, looking for some sort of identifier, and what I see blows my mind.

  “What sort of joke is this?”

  “It’s not a joke. I’m working for the same man.” Donnie snickers, licking his lips as he laughs.

  There’s no way. “He’s dead. How’re you working for him if he’s fuckin’ dead?” I question him. Grabbing him by the collar, I shove him up against the brick wall and push his shoulder blades further into the stone.

  “Who do you think I’m working for?” Donnie continues laughing, obviously amused by this.

  “Hammer, want me to let her go?” I glance over at Razor’s question and see the person across from Donnie is a girl. A teenager? She looks oddly familiar, but I don’t know how. I can’t place her, but something about her makes me want to know more.

  “What’s your name?” I ask the girl.

  She looks to Razor and then to me before her eyes lock on my cut. “Oakleigh.”

  “Alright, Oakleigh. How old are you?” She’s got purple braids and her skin is a light mocha color with the darkest chocolate eyes. How the hell do I know this woman? Why does she look so damn familiar?

  She swallows hard. “Eighteen.” She has tattoos on her left arm, so of course, she’d be legal.

  I look at Donnie, “Don’t you fuckin’ move, or I’ll break your fuckin’ knees,” I seethe, then walk over to her. As I get closer, she reminds me of my sister in a way. She has the same facial structure, and her eyes are the same. It must be some sort of coincidence.

  Razor looks behind me and I know Donnie’s moved. “Stay there, Donnie, and don’t think I’m playin’. I’m itchin’ for some trouble, and you’re askin’ for it.”

  “Come on, man,” Donnie whines.

  I hold the bag out in front of the girl, “Oakleigh, why’s a pretty girl like you tryin’ to get some of this? It’ll ruin your life.”

  Her expression is completely stoic, “My life can’t get any worse,” she shakes her head, looking down at the ground.

  “It can, trust me, especially if you start on this. There’s no turnin’ back from it. Now, why do you need this stuff?”

  She swallows and looks right into my eyes, “Right now? Probably ‘cause I ran into my biological father in the middle of the street.”

  I blink at her, confused beyond reason, and quickly realize she’s talking about me.

  She’s fucking talking about me.

  Chapter Six

  She was a forgiver. Her heart was so large, she didn’t know how to give up on the good in people

  ~ Unknown

  Shiloh

  Smirnoff screwdrivers are the only thing getting me through this day. I told her I’d come back home, and now I’m stuck doing it. Why the fuck did I offer to go? That’s right because she cornered me. Stiletto had to go and knock the shit out of her, and of course, my mother dearest threatened to sue. She would. She’s the type.

  I brush my hand through my hair and grab onto the neck of the bottle, taking another swig of the sweet yet tangy liquid. I could get drunk off a whole six-pack of these. Hell, I don’t even know how many I’v
e had at this point. Two? Three? After a while, they all start to blend together.

  “You doin’ alright, darlin’?” I turn and look to my left, where Razor, a Nomad for the Raiders of Valhalla MC, is sitting. He’s been here for a little bit now, and word on the street is Zane’s looking at him as the most qualified to be Amara’s VP down in Mexico. He’s been a Nomad for years and wants to settle down, or so they say.

  I nod, giving him a sweet smile. “I’m perfectly fine, but thank you.”

  I’ve been in this club for many years now, but the way Razor’s looking at me doesn’t make me feel like he wants a quick fuck. No, he’s the type who’s genuinely asking if I’m okay like he actually gives a damn. “Good, just been seein’ you throw a few of those back. I’ve seen a lot of women get in situations they never wanted to after a little bit too much,” he mutters, speaking a bit lower.

  I cock a brow and let out a chuckle. “What, are you my guardian angel?”

  He raises both of his brows and smiles smugly at me. “I damn well will be if any one of these guys sits back and watches you get plastered, then expects to fuck ya. That type of shit don’t happen on my watch. It’s not right,” Razor says with the utmost seriousness.

  For some reason, I want to grab onto his hand when I say this, but I don’t. Instead, I look straight into those deep chocolate brown eyes and tell him exactly what I think. “The world needs more men like you, more guardian angels.”

  “Well, I don’t think the world needs more of me, sweetheart. I appreciate you sayin’ so, though.” Razor looks back down at his beer and takes a swig, then places the bottle back on the bar. I don’t know much about him other than what I’ve heard whispers about through the club, but he seems like a really nice guy. It’s almost a shame he’ll be going down to Mexico.

 

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