Chapter 16 – Hammer
Bytheendofthis day, once the sun descended to hide beyond mounds of rusty cars and washing machines, the Executioner’s foes would be exposed to the elements, their naked bodies crooked and bleeding as their own body weight pulled them farther down sharpened stakes, making them their own worst enemies.But writhing and wriggling would only cause them more pain.
The rough texture of the rope rubbed Hammer’s throat all the way to the base of his jaw. It pressed down on the soft flesh beneath just enough to cause discomfort without keeping him from breathing. His back was flat against a thick metal beam that could have been an element in the frame of a building in its heyday. His arms were bent back around the rusty torture device, his hands cuffed so tightly he could feel an unpleasant tingling in his fingers.
Rain had passed over the junkyard, leaving his hair and clothes soaked, and now he stood still, with wind further cooling his icy skin while rainbows climbed the sky.
The clouds were a wild tangle of layers in all shades of gray, passing over him like puffs of cotton, their ripped edges as tattered as the feelings buzzing inside him.
He’d kissed Dex, and the moment it happened, those junkyard fuckers must have knocked him out. Had Dex known they were coming? Had the date been a trap, and the suggestion to stay in town longer—a way to keep him from returning to Cora’s ranch too early? But if that was the case, why wasn’t Dex with them? Was he too ashamed of looking Hammer in the eye after pushing him under the bus?
Only Shane and Jag were present in the van when Hammer had come to, so he presumed Dex had stayed behind to take his stuff from Cora’s.
His stomach became heavy, as if someone made him swallow balls of lead, to keep him in place.
He didn’t have the photos.
Mouth dry, he stared at the piles of rusty cars surrounding the shipping container prison behind him. Shane made it very clear that Lion and the others were coming to get him soon, and unless he had proof of Ryker’s misdeeds, they wouldn’t bother taking him away from this massive body disposal facility. Golden Boy Ryker had more than enough time to pour poison in everyone’s ears. So they’d say their peace, pretend to listen, and leave his body for the acid. The cold, hard ground. The trash compactor.
Another gust of wind froze his damp clothes to Antarctic levels of cold, making him shudder, but the instinctual attempt to fold his body in order to conserve heat ended when the rope choked him.
Fucking great.
A part of him wanted to loudly point out that his club wanted him alive, not frozen to death, but what was the point of it when the swarm of Demon Brethren MC was already on the way.
His life might have been a short one, but at least he’d had some fun in the end.
Despite the rain, Jag sat next to him like a guard dog. To be fair, he was wearing his junkyard warrior gear, which included a hooded leather jacket that made him look like a dystopian assassin, so he wasn’t getting nearly as wet as Hammer.
Shane, on the other hand, sat cross-legged in the van parked nearby. He appeared relaxed as he played with the smoke from his cigarette, but Hammer wasn’t fooled. This guy had spent ten years in prison and now worked for Frank. If push came to shove, he wouldn’t hesitate to use the gun at his side.
Hammer wasn’t sure if it was boredom, or if something changed in him more permanently, but after two weeks with Dex, he no longer perceived other men with indifference. And this new eye told him that Shane was a handsome guy, in a rugged kind of way. Not that Hammer had any warm feelings for him after the way Shane had manhandled him earlier. But he’d been tied to this metal for over an hour (or an eternity), so he had to kill timesomehow.
For example playing a game of Fuck, Marry, Kill in his head.
Excluding Dex, who he’d obviously fuck, he rolled the three other gay men he knew in his head. He’d fuck Shane, for obvious reasons, and he’d kill Frank, because the guy was the least his type. That would leave him to marry Jag, who, according to Dex, was soft-hearted and might prove easy to handle in the long term.
At the end of the day, though, the game was a thought exercise that made him realize his taste in men was specific, and none of these guys fit the bill. Shane was the closest match, though unless he had a secret submissive side—which was doubtful, since his boyfriend was a serene-looking, artsy waif—he might be too much of a hassle even for a quick hook-up.
Dex had been the one to flip the dusty switch in Hammer’s brain, which he might have buried many years ago, to keep himself safe in juvie. Yet all the slavish declarations, all his smiles, and everything they’d shared during their short yet intense time together meant nothing when it came to the people with whom Dex’s real loyalties lay.
Hammer had been too out of it to remember the exact moment he had been taken, but Frank wouldn’t have hurt his nephew, and that meant Dex was probably sulking at home, his back turned away from Hammer, as if the strange connection they’d forged had been meaningless. If that was true, Dex was more of a psycho than Hammer.
Maybe it madehimthe pathetic kid crushing on another guy in this story?
Shuddering from the cold, Hammer bit his lip as rain started tapping on his head again, each drop like a finger pointing out his naivete. What if he’d underestimated Dex’s intelligence all along? The kid had proved how well he understood human nature during the conflict at the axe-throwing range, so maybe the whole calf-eyed dummy thing was an act?
It wasn’t impossible, yet he didn’t want to believe it. It was far more probable that Dex had simply caved under pressure and left Hammer to rot.
“Wanna smoke in case it’s your last?” Shane asked as he threw his old cig to the wet ground.
“He doesn’t deserve the privilege!” Jag snapped, squinting at Hammer. He’d been the one to arrange the convoluted torture setup with the noose. Of course.
“Such a good Samaritan,” Hammer mumbled, before glancing at Shane. “Yeah, I want one.”
Without missing a beat, Shane put a fresh cigarette in his mouth and lit it, then approached Hammer with it. But when Hammer attempted to lean in, Shane stalled, keeping the filter out of reach.
“Bet you had lots of fun with our Dex.”