Oh, so this was psychological torture?
He could take that.
“Fuck you.”
Jag shook his head, and that made the hood slide farther down his forehead, making his face disappear as if he were a cultist in some convoluted horror plot. “You will pay for what you did. Seducing him like that. He deserves a good mate,” he said from under the stream of water cascading off his hood.
Shane shrugged, still keeping the cig out of reach, while teasing Hammer with its scent. “I don’t think it was hard to seduce him at all. What I don’t get is whatyourdeal is with him.”
Hammer snorted and spat at the cigarette, making sure the bastard knew it was no longer wanted. “None of your business. I’m dead anyway.”
Shane sighed like a movie villain and stomped the cigarette into the mud. “Why don’t you entertain us a little then? Maybe you should play nice, in case you do end up living and don’t want your business with Dex aired to your club.”
Jag snarled. “He will lie!”
Hammer frowned. “You’re threatening to out me?”
It had never been a danger he needed to consider, yet now his brief yet intense playtime with Dex was revealing itself as coming with a tsunami of unwanted baggage.
Shane spread his arms. “That’s the problem with secrets. Gossip happens, and Dex has a big mouth.”
That much was true, but while the kid usually spewed whatever came to his mind, he’d also kept Frank’s criminal operations secret, and unless he’d been lying, he’d never told anyone about his first kill at the junkyard.
“That’s not my problem,” Hammer said as Jag shot up, raising his hands into the air.
“Why are you the only one allowed to taunt him?Mygrudge is greater than yours!” he barked at Shane.
“No one’s stopping you from talking. But he’s technicallynotour prisoner. His club owns him.”
“Well, then…” Jag stood in front of Hammer, his face tense. “You… are a bad man, and you will suffer the consequences of what you did!”
Shane barely bit back a smirk.
Hammer moved his tingling fingers in an attempt to keep the blood flowing and shifted his shoulders to put more strain on his arms in order to relieve his wrists. “I didn’t do anything your friend didn’t want.”
Jag gave a roar of frustration and stomped off, shaking his spear, but Shane cocked his head. “I mean, I can see why he might be attracted to you. You’re not really my type, but I do see it, and Dex does go for looks first. He also has this pattern of getting obsessed with the worst nutjobs and then cheating on them when he gets bored. He once had an infatuation with a used car salesman, who was actually a stolen car salesman, and he told us the guy was justsogreat at business. The sly bastard then maxed out Dex’s credit card and disappeared.”
Shane was too smart of a man to mention such things as off-hand comments, which meant that he was trying to discourage Hammer from pursuing Dex, if he somehow survived the upcoming execution, but this kind of reverse psychology wouldn’t work on Hammer.
“Dex got over the guy pretty quick when we found him and beat the shit out of the fucker,” Shane continued, watching Hammer with hands down his pockets.
Oh, so this was a veiled threat as well. In case Hammer stuck around but then proceeded to… what? Break Dex’s heart? Ridiculous.
“He’s not a child and doesn’t need the three of you to coddle him,” Hammer said, remembering Dex sleeping with his head on Hammer’s outstretched arm, mouth wide open, as if he were inviting insects.
Jag turned around in a theatrical flurry, his leather coat sending drops of water at Hammer. He looked as if he wanted to say something, opening his mouth then closing it again, but in the end he hissed at Hammer as if he were one of Cora’s tigers. If this was what Dex had to deal with on a daily basis, no wonder he wanted out.
Then again, he’d also most likely sold out Hammer, so maybe these guys did know him better.
Jag’s face relaxed, and he turned away again. “They’re coming.”
Playtime was over, and Hammer’s body felt it before his mind could have caught up. The rain might have weakened to a shower, but the roar of motorcycle engines made Hammer feel as if every bit of his body had cause for aching already. He swallowed against the rope and stared at the path leading into this tucked-away part of the junkyard as the noise grew ever louder.
His teeth clattered from the cold, when Lion’s powerful chopper came into view, but as seconds ticked by, it became obvious that the prez hadn’t brought the whole club. Only two men trailed after him, and Hammer recognized their motorcycles as Buzzer’s and Wasp’s. The VP and the sergeant-at-arms were both here.
But Ryker wasn’t.
Something had happened during Hammer’s absence, and he could only hope that whatever it was would lead to his release, as faint as that hope was.