“You left something at Ryker’s place,” Lion spoke with a face carved in stone and presented the notebook that must have fallen out of Hammer’s pocket.
He groaned, but while he expected to hear his brothers laugh at his literary endeavors, the scowling lips and frowns on the faces around him communicated only suspicion and contempt.
“You read your old lady’s diary too?” Hammer asked and reached for the little notebook, but as he stepped closer to Lion, his arms were pulled back so fast and hard he barely bit back a grunt of discomfort.
His head spun.
“The fuck?”
Ryker stepped forward, his pretty face bruised, which he’d surely play to his advantage when pulling sexual partners for days to come. “Cut the shit. This is a detailed plan of murdering my brother. Your club prez.”
Hammer raised his chin and stared at the motherfucker, taking note of the tiniest smirk on his square, handsome face.
The bastard was turning this against him after Hammer had spared him and chosen to give him a chance by keeping his CP ‘accident’ secret. That fucking snake. Of course he’d strike instead of risking that Hammer might report him after all.
He sucked in air and glanced at his brothers in search of support, but they either looked away or watched him with wary expressions.
Had they all fallen for this insanity? After knowing him for over a decade?
Seemed like even his friends considered him a threat when the charming rogue who could do no wrong pointed his finger.
“That’s not what this is, and I would have told you that if you asked like a man instead of setting up this trap,” Hammer said and spat at the ground, but his insides twisted with unease.
Lion shook his head. “The club needs time to decide what to do, and you will get your say, but we can’t risk you going through with… whateverthisis.”
Was the big bad boss unnerved by some gory fantasies? This was ridiculous.
But also dangerous, because cornered animals fought for their lives, and Ryker had a lot to fear. And if Hammer revealed what he’d seen at his placenow, everyone would assume he was just lashing out at someone who’d found out about his scheme.
He’d missed his chance to strike first. That was what being nice and understanding got you. He'd love to write a short story about Ryker with the fucker's blood.
“I have nothing to hide and can show you what this is if you let m—” He stalled when his hands were cuffed.
He could have fought off whoever was holding him, but there was no way he’d run from over a dozen men with guns. What he needed was a chance, and it would not be offered to him if he didn’tbehave.
He knew where he’d be spending the night. Frank had a neat setup for discreetly holding people until further notice at a hidden location in the junkyard, and was always happy to accommodate the MC’s needs.
Lion wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Dealing with the late coke shipment needs to be our priority. We’ll discuss this plan of yours once that’s sorted. You know Frank, he won’t starve you.”
Frank wasn’t much older than Hammer, but he had thevibeof someone from an earlier generation, always so responsible when it came to imprisoning people and burying them under heaps of trash.
“He will be safe here,” Frank said, stretching his massive chest as his dark eyes settled on Hammer.
Hammer himself wasn’t so sure of that. If Ryker charmed everyone like the ladies he got to suck his dick, Hammer might find himself cooling in the ground of Frank’s garden by Sunday. He was dangerous—that could not be denied—but not to his own people, like the fucking thing with Ryker had proven. And now, the error in his judgment might cost him everything.
Maybe even his life, if Lion decided he could not risk letting Hammer live with a grudge.
Another of Frank’s minions, Shane, opened a door to a nearby car with a smirk that was a permanent feature on his face. Very tall, green-eyed, and with a sharp jawline, he looked like a model and was almost too eye-catching to effectively fly under the radar, but nobody messed with him due to the reputation he’d brought from prison. He couldn’t have been rehabilitated much if he kept working with Frank.
Hammer didn’t fight when led into the car, but he didn’t miss the way Lion kept himself at a distance, as if he feared Hammer might break free and eat his face like a rabid chimpanzee. Ryker would be talking his ear off for the next few days, while Hammer remained unable to defend himself, nor go to Ryker’s place to steal his computer as evidence. He was no hacker, but someone skilled with tech could surely snoop out deleted files as long as Hammer got the machine itself.
The car door shut in his face.
Shane sat in the driver’s seat, while Frank squeezed his massive form into the passenger’s side and pulled his thick black braid to the front so it wouldn’t be trapped behind him. Hammer was broad-shouldered, tall, he didn’t fit into all beds, and had to watch his head in doorways. He trained for strength and agility, ready for anything the biker life could bring his way. But Frank was the kind of guy who could drag a car behind him by a rope held between the teeth, like the Maori demigod he apparently was despite living in a junkyard. Even when relaxed, he exuded confidence in his dormant power. Hammer could imagine himself taking on Shane with the element of surprise, but with his hands cuffed back and Frank present, there was no way out. Only a fool would have lost his temper in a situation this impossible, so he leaned back and stayed quiet.
The club all mounted their bikes and followed the car in a grim procession, taking away every hope he might have had for a quick escape between the mounds of trash.
“Can I order the food I want or will you just give me instant ramen?” Hammer asked Frank.