Page 101 of D!ckhead

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He didn’t move but already knew he’d be risking it all to save the man who’d ruined his plans.

Maybehewas the dumbass.

When an engine started at the other side of the house, even the vague idea of stealing one of the cars to follow Ryker drifted away. Hammer was tied to Dex with an invisible string and wouldn’t be able to pull the hook out of his heart until the kid was safe.

He used the noise made by the vehicle to cover his footsteps and move behind a bush farther to the side, but Viking spotted the movement, and he raised the grenade.

“Did you see that?” he asked his plaid-wearing buddy, who just shook his head.

“I’ll get more of those babies. Let’s cause some mayhem,” Lumberjack said and dashed inside the house. Looked like Ryker’s orders/requests didn’t matter to those guys all that much.

He might be charismatic enough to function as an impromptu leader, but now that he was gone, the goons were back to whatever messy hierarchy they lived by before his arrival.

Hammer rolled his shoulders, glancing around to work out the best route into the cabin, to hit those bastards from where they didn’t expect him, but a rapid movement drew his gaze back to Viking, who… tossed the grenade straight at his hideout.

Hammer froze.

What. The. Fuck.

His pulse slowed, as if his body were about to fall into a coma when he needed to fucking roll away and hide behind some rock or tree. But as the damn explosive rose descended toward him once it reached the peak of its trajectory, it was clear there was no sensible place to hunker down.

So he dashed from behind the bush, swung his sledgehammer, and hit the grenade as though it was a baseball.

Viking still held a shotgun and could have put Hammer down on the spot, but as the projectile floated back his way, he let out a choked noise and sped toward the open window.

But Hammer’s aim was impeccable. The moment Viking’s legs wiggled in the air as he scrambled in, the grenade hit his ass, dropped into the snow and exploded with a bang so loud the ground trembled under Hammer’s feet.

Several screams erupted inside, followed by an avalanche of snow falling from the tipping roof. A boot with the foot still inside twirled through the air and landed behind Hammer, spraying him with blood along the way. He took a deep breath and smudged it on his cheeks.

This was war.

He could only hope Dex was fine inside the house, because the wall where Viking had lost the lower part of his body had collapsed, taking a part of the roof with it. Hammer briefly lost his balance, as his ears erupted with a sharp ring, but there was no time for gathering thoughts. He attempted to run downhill, but the loose snow wouldn’t hold his weight and crumbled, taking him down in a fast slide.

He could hear shouting even through the noise in his ears, but once he spotted Viking’s fallen gun, that was the only thing he could see. He rushed for it and rose just in time to spot a broad-shouldered figure looming in the dust inside the house.

He shot, but the stranger must have seen him in time and ducked. Hammer pulled the trigger again, and again, but the click of the empty firearm left him burning with fury.

So much for the benefit of surprise.

Hammer ignored the annoying voice in his head telling him that Dex would be calling out to him if he were whole, because nothing good could come out of worrying at this point. He squeezed the handle of his weapon with newfound fury. If Dex had been injured by the explosion and lay somewhere unconscious instead of dead, the clock was ticking.

He squared his shoulders and approached the front door, swinging the sledgehammer at the lock. It was wrecked within two blows that vibrated all the way up his arms. The door swung open in silent invitation, but Hammer hid behind the thick wooden wall and glanced at the sloping roof that might fall on his head any minute.

Bullets tore through the air, chopping off pieces of the doorframe. None of this was safe. He should make his assault from yet another point, now that their attention was on the front door, but pure adrenaline had replaced his blood, and he dashed in like a human projectile as soon as the shooting stopped.

Movement drew his attention toward the fireplace, and he charged at the tall, slender silhouette, swinging his hammer so rapidly it propelled him forward and knocked into Jeff’s chest. Losing balance, the bastard roared and fell into the fire.

Instinct sent Hammer’s hand for a bottle standing on the wooden table next to him, and he threw it at Jeff just as he rolled onto the floor with a dull shriek. But when glass broke, spraying liquid all over his burning form, the booze that must have been inside the container fed the flames, transforming the goon into a living torch.

Screaming his lungs out, Jeff paid no attention to Hammer and ran out through the front door, no doubt dropping into the snow in hopes of survival. The scent of burning meat filled Hammer’s nostrils, distracting him for too long, and he only moved when someone cocked a gun a few feet away.

He dropped to the floor and tipped the table forward, causing a racket of falling cans and breaking glass. But his hand lingered on the edge of the wood that second too long, and pain tore through it like lightning before thunder. He'd been shot.

Blood drizzled into his palm, but the table would only save him for so long, and he couldn’t waste time checking the damage to his limb.

He shot up the moment the click of someone reloading reached his ears. The guy with the pot belly looked up, his eyes wide and as shiny as his sweaty face. He’d pay a hefty price for waking the bear from its slumber. Hammer swung the sledgehammer with full strength, and it collided with the bald head, cracking it like an egg. The force behind the blow sent the goon at the wall, but Hammer hauled his weapon at the bloodied head once more for good measure. The fucker’s head, and that of the hammer, plunged through the thin inner wall so rapidly a deer skull trophy with wide antlers fell to the floor at the impact.

But when Hammer tugged on the handle of his weapon to free it from the mess of bone, brains, and plaster, he found it stuck and screamed at the top of his lungs.


Tags: K.A. Merikan Romance