Page 20 of Hammer

I stepped back from the window, but not before our gazes met.He nodded once, a gesture both reassuring and respectful, before starting his engine and pulling away.

I felt something twist inside me -- relief that we’d escaped Piston’s brutality, fear that he’d find us anyway, and something unexpected: a flutter of interest in the gruff older biker who represented both my past trauma and current hope for safety.

“He’s a good one,” Jessie said, suddenly beside me.“Comes in every Thursday, same time.”

I didn’t always work this shift, or that section.Even still, I didn’t remember seeing him on a Thursday until now.

“You know him well?”I asked, trying to sound casual as I counted out Hammer’s change for the register.

“Sure.His son used to work over at Camelot’s Garage & Towing.”She patted my arm.“The Reapers take care of their own, honey.And right now, that includes you and those boys of yours.”

I nodded, sliding the generous tip into my pocket.The money would help with Chase’s growing appetite and Levi’s need for new glasses.But it was Hammer’s words that I carried with me as I clocked out and headed for the small apartment upstairs --”Your boys are safe here, Amelia.And so are you.”

My years with Piston had taught me not to trust promises from men in leather cuts.A few weeks with the Dixie Reapers hadn’t been nearly enough to unlearn that lesson.Yet something about Hammer’s steady gaze and the gentle brush of his fingers against mine had cracked the wall I’d built around myself.

As I walked to the rear stairs behind the building, I glanced over my shoulder, half-expecting to see someone in a Devil’s Minions cut lurking in the shadows.Instead, there were only the empty parking spaces, and the lingering rumble of Hammer’s bike fading in the distance.For the first time since seeing Piston’s true colors, the sound of a motorcycle engine didn’t fill me with dread.

Maybe that was progress.Or maybe it was just the beginning of a whole new kind of danger.

I climbed the stairs to our apartment, each step a reminder of how far we’d come -- and how far we still had to go.The apartment above Jessie’s Diner wasn’t much, but it was clean and safe.Most importantly, it was ours.

“Mom!”Levi called as I pushed open the door.My younger son sat cross-legged on our secondhand couch, homework spread across the coffee table.

“Hey, baby.”I dropped my purse on the counter that separated our tiny kitchen from the equally tiny living room.“Where’s your brother?”

Levi’s shoulders tensed slightly.“He went out with some friends.”

The alarm bells in my head started ringing immediately.“What friends?From school?”

“No,” Levi admitted, looking down at his math worksheet.“Some guys from the garage.”

My stomach dropped.It was one thing for him to stop by there and maybe learn a thing or two, even though I wasn’t thrilled about that either, and another for him to go off with those men.None of them had done anything to make me feel ill at ease, but it was still damn hard to trust people.“The Reapers’ garage?Levi, you know I don’t want --”

“They’re just teaching him about motorcycles, Mom.”Levi’s voice held a defensive edge.“They’re not like Dad and his friends.Chase says they’re actually nice.”

I pressed my fingers to my temples, trying to ward off the headache that had been threatening all day.“When did he leave?”

“About an hour ago.He said he’d be back for dinner.”

I took a deep breath, battling the urge to call someone.No, I had to let him spread his wings a bit.Although, we’d be having a conversation when he came home.

“Finish your homework,” I said, moving to the refrigerator to figure out dinner.“I’ll talk to Chase when he gets home.”

The refrigerator’s contents were sparse -- some eggs, half a gallon of milk, leftover spaghetti from last night.My tip money would help, but not until I hit the grocery store tomorrow.I pulled out the spaghetti container, resigning myself to reheated pasta.

“Mom?”Levi’s voice was quieter now.“Are you mad?”

I turned to find him watching me, worry etched across his young face.He’d always been sensitive to moods, could read tension in a room before it erupted.A survival skill I wished he’d never had to develop.

“Not at you, baby.”I managed a smile.“Just worried.”

“Chase is okay.He texted me twenty minutes ago.Said he was having fun.”

Fun.When was the last time either of my boys had described anything as fun?I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat.

“That biker was at the diner again, wasn’t he?”Levi asked, his perceptiveness catching me off guard.“The older one with the silver beard.”

“Hammer,” I said.

---