Page 11 of Hammer

“That’s them,” I said, recognizing the fear and vigilance that radiated from the trio like heat waves off asphalt.

Saint nodded and started forward, then stopped.We watched as the mom and youngest went to the restrooms.So far, the oldest hadn’t spotted us, or he wasn’t letting on if he had.We hung back to wait and see what happened.

After the others returned, they talked amongst themselves for a moment.Then Saint decided we’d waited long enough and headed off in their direction again.I followed a step behind, keeping my movements deliberate, non-threatening.Too many years dealing with frightened women and children had taught me how easily a man my size could intimidate without meaning to.

The older boy spotted us immediately, his body tensing as he registered our cuts.His hand moved slightly to his waistband, and I noted the motion with approval.Kid was ready to defend his family, even if he didn’t actually have a weapon.

“Ms.Decker?”Saint called softly as we approached, keeping a respectful distance.“I’m Saint, Vice President of the Dixie Reapers.This is Hammer.Scratch sent us to meet you.”

The woman -- Amelia -- tightened her grip on her duffel bag, nodding slightly.“Yes, I’m Amelia Decker.These are my sons, Chase and Levi.”

Up close, I could see the toll that running had taken on her.Shadows hung beneath her eyes, and tension lined her mouth.Still pretty, though, in a worn-down kind of way.Brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, a few strands of silver catching the light.She couldn’t have been more than thirty-six, thirty-seven, but fear had aged her.

Over the loudspeaker, someone announced the next bus leaving the station and a group of people rushed by us.I gave them a quick glance, making sure none of them were a threat.A few feet away, someone dropped a bag, the loudbangmaking a few people jump, then laugh nervously.

I went back to observing the little family, once I knew they weren’t in danger from the people here.The older boy -- Chase -- stepped slightly forward, angling his body between us and his mother.“You got ID?”he demanded, his voice deeper than I expected.

Saint’s lips twitched, not quite a smile.“Smart question.”He reached slowly into his cut, pulling out his wallet to show his driver’s license.“Scratch said he gave your mother a phone.You call the number yet?”

“We were about to,” Amelia said, her voice soft but steady.

I studied Chase while they talked, recognizing the hardness in his eyes.Kid had seen things no teenager should have to see, done things no kid should have to do.Reminded me of Prospects who’d grown up too fast, the ones who came to us already battle-scarred by life.

“We’ve arranged a place for you to stay,” Saint was explaining.“Apartment above Jessie’s Diner on Main Street.It’s not fancy, but it’s clean, furnished, and the rent’s covered for the first three months.”

“Covered by who?”Chase asked sharply.

“The club,” Saint answered easily.“Consider it a loan if it makes you feel better.Your mother can start paying it back once she’s on her feet.”

I noticed the younger boy -- Levi -- watching us with calculated scrutiny.Unlike his brother’s confrontational stance, this kid’s observation was more analytical, measuring us against some internal scale.

Another announcement blasted through the place, making us pause our conversation.Otherwise, we’d have had to shout to be heard.“Bus 426 to Birmingham is now boarding!”

The announcement repeated twice.Once it was finished, the regular noise of the station filled the space again.

“I understand there’s a job waiting for me?”Amelia asked, her fingers nervously plucking at the strap of her bag.

Saint nodded.“Waitressing at the diner.Owner’s a friend of the club.Hours work with the boys’ school schedule, tips are decent.”

I shifted my weight, drawing Chase’s attention.His gaze locked onto me, assessing the threat.I met his gaze steadily, seeing the fear beneath the bravado.

“How do we know we can trust you?”he asked bluntly.

“You don’t,” I said, speaking for the first time.My voice came out rougher than intended, gravel over steel.“But we ain’t him.”

Chase’s jaw tightened at the reference to his father.Good.Kid understood what I meant.

“The Dixie Reapers have a reputation for protecting women and children,” Levi said quietly, adjusting his glasses.“Especially from other MCs.”

I raised an eyebrow at the kid.Hadn’t expected that kind of research from someone his age.

“That’s right,” Saint confirmed, shooting me a glance.“Devil’s Minions aren’t welcome in our territory, and Piston knows it.”

At the mention of her ex’s name, Amelia flinched.Just slightly, but I caught it.Fucking bastard.Men who hit women deserved whatever hell came their way.

“Our SUV’s right over there,” Saint continued, gesturing to where we’d parked.“We can take you straight to the apartment, get you settled in.”

I watched as Amelia and her sons exchanged glances, having one of those silent family conversations.After a moment, she nodded.

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