Dex’s insides filled with ice when glass broke, and a large stone fell inside, making a hole in the other window. Cora ran farther into the house, dragging a panicked Baby over the floor, and forgetting all about Dex’s predicament.
Two men in balaclavas jumped into the room like shadows from hell, while another was still shoving the glass out of the other window to make room for himself.
“My gun! Hammer! Where’s my gun?” Dex yelled, because not only was he afraid for his own life, but also couldn’t help Hammer while cuffed to the fucking sofa. What was he supposed to do? Throw popcorn at the home invaders? Eventhatwas out of his reach.
He had a terrible flashback to Ryker’s house, when Hammer refused to give him a weapon, because he didn’t feel Dex could be trusted. Now, Dex was sinking into the leather sofa with a sense that Hammer’s feelings on the matter had not changed in the slightest.
As Hammer wrestled a bald guy with tattoos on his head, another approached him from the back with a knife in hand. Helpless like a puppy with its paw stuck in a trap, Dex threw the pillow at the guy.
“Behind you!”
Hammer reached back, grabbed the hand holding the weapon, and made a rapid twist with his body, which sent the blade into the other goon’s neck.
Blood drizzled to the floor, but two more armed men had crawled in. Dex made a helpless plea as his skin itched with the sense of upcoming pain.
“Hammer, I’m stuck!”
Gray eyes met his, and as the first man dropped to the floor Hammer shoved his shoulder into the other goon’s chest, trapping him against the wall. The wall hook with Hammer’s holster was just out of reach, so Hammer dashed for it. The goon attempted to follow his motion, hitting Hammer’s shoulder, but Dex’s hero spun away with the harness in hand. Stumbling a few steps, he could have pulled out the gun, but instead, he tossed the holster Dex’s way, as if they were playing a high-stakes game of Frisbee.
Time slowed down. Even shouts came to Dex dulled, as if he’d risen beyond reality and was no longer bound by the laws of physics. His body stretched, and as he reached toward the spinning boomerang of steel and leather, he grabbed it by the grip of Hammer’s gun and flicked open the strap, holding it in place with a single move of his thumb. The holster dropped in time for Dex to face a giant with a baseball bat. Brown eyes widened in the slit of the balaclava, and the man roared, about to smash Dex’s head with the bat, but then Dex pulled the trigger, and a bullet from the pistol tore through the bastard’s forehead. He dropped dead on top of Dex.
The body was heavy as it convulsed, leaking warm blood on Dex’s neck, but a switch in his brain had been turned on, and the discomfort could not take away the newfound focus. He used the dead man’s shoulder to steady his arm and aimed at a stranger, who picked up a chair and spun it in the air, about to hit Hammer with it.
Three enemies were left standing, and the gun held at least five bullets. Easy-peasy.
Dex shot at the chair goon’s head, as if it were one of the endless cans Dex had practiced on at the junkyard. He moved his arm sideways without missing a beat, as if this were a game ofCounter-Strike. The first guy barely hit the floor by the time Dex shot again, putting down a wiry dude, who emerged from the kitchen with a firearm of his own. The scent of gunpowder was like cocaine, sharpening Dex’s senses as his focus grew ever steadier, slowing down time. The dead man’s final bullet hit the still-warm body resting on top of Dex, but he felt no fear and aimed straight at the goon Hammer had just thrown to the floor. He was about to bust his brains too, but Hammer jumped up and descended on the bastard’s head with both feet clad in steel-studded boots, and rendered the pistol obsolete.
High on the rush of danger, Dex looked around for anyone trying to sneak up on them, but all the bodies within sight were dead, creating pools of blood that made Dex wish he didn’t need to blink as the beauty of red against natural wood seeped into his memory bank.
Carnage. It was absolute fucking carnage, and Hammer stood in the middle of it all like a modern-day god of war. Dex swallowed, taken out of his stupor by the sight of a knife sticking out of Hammer’s back.
“Y-your shoulder...”.
Hammer scowled and glanced back before grabbing the handle and pulling the blade out with a hiss. Dex stiffened, worried he might see blood pouring out of him as if he were a fountain, but there was only a trickle—not enough to threaten this breathing, killing machine. Still, despite his life not being in danger anymore, Hammer remained a bit pale.
“Bastards,” he growled before sinking to his knee and squeezing out a roar. He shut up once the blade was embedded in the head of the guy who’d stabbed him.
Dex was so fucked up. Even now, with a man lying dead on top of him, he felt a tingle in his balls at the sight of Hammer meting out violence. The way he bared his teeth, scanning the blood-soaked floor made Dex reimagine him as a hungry wolf who hadn’t yet gotten his fill of fresh meat.
“Is-is that all of them?” Dex choked out, still squeezing the gun, but Hammer said nothing as his cold eyes zeroed in on him. Rising to his feet, he exhaled with a loud grunt and wiped a bloodstained hand on his cheek, stumbling toward Dex like a man stuck on a single thought.
“I can keep my mouth shut, you know I can, since I work with Frank,” Dex said as his stomach squeezed with fear. He was a witness now, and therefore—a potential liability. “Come on, I saved your life here,” he added, but never let go of the gun, because it was still loaded, and he’d defend himself if need be, no matter how much it would hurt to shatter that handsome jaw with bullets.
He couldn’t take his eyes off Hammer. The fresh blood stained his face like war markings on some barbarian warrior—a warning sign Dex should heed instead of being drawn in by the danger.
“I know,” Hammer growled and grabbed the dead weight on top of Dex by the T-shirt. With a single tug, he got the body off, leaving Dex naked and vulnerable, with only his reflexes and the gun to keep him alive. Hammer reached out his hand, wordlessly asking for that last failsafe against violence.
And like the horny idiot he was, Dex passed him the pistol even though heshould haveused it as leverage for freedom. So it was stupid of him to trust Hammer, but maybe the dice would fall in his favor, and he’d get the same in return?
He was unable to speak or breathe when the corpse slid to the floor and Hammer took him in from above in the fog of tension that surrounded them on all sides.
“You good?” Hammer asked in a dull voice, tense as a puma about to go for a man’s throat, but when Dex nodded, Hammer dropped the pistol to the floor and climbed between Dex’s legs, roughly shoving them apart.
Dex nodded, and not even a drop of fear was left in him when the steel cold gaze met his and kindled a different type of fire.
Chapter 10 – Hammer
Hammercouldn’trememberthelast time his arousal felt this tangible. He could taste it on his tongue. It drummed in his ears. It expanded in his chest, taking over every bit of flesh in his extremities until his skull heated up, stewing his thoughts in testosterone and adrenaline.