Page 72 of Hammer

I laughed softly.“Hammer doesn’t show affection the way most people do.But have you noticed how he checks your schoolwork over his morning coffee?How he made sure your bedroom had a lock after he heard what Piston used to do?How he never raises his voice, even when you’re being a complete pain in the ass?”

The ghost of a smile touched Chase’s lips at that last part.“I have been kind of a jerk to him.”

“You’ve been protecting yourself and Levi, just like you always do,” I told him.“And Hammer understands that better than anyone.”

We sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, listening to the night sounds around us -- crickets, the distant rumble of motorcycles, the soft creaking of the house settling.So different from the tense silences that had filled our old life.

“Will we stay with him?”Chase finally asked, his voice small.“Even now that Piston…” He trailed off, unwilling to finish the thought.

I turned to face him fully, wanting him to see the truth in my eyes.“I’ve found something with Hammer I never expected to find after everything with Piston.A chance at real love.A real family.Not to mention, we’re married.This is our home now.”

“You love him?”Chase asked, surprise evident in his voice.

“I do,” I admitted, the words easier the second time I’d spoken them aloud.“And I think he loves me too, in his own gruff way.”

Chase seemed to consider this, his brow furrowed in thought.“He treats you different.Not like Piston did.”

“Very different,” I agreed.“Hammer sees me.The real me.And he sees you boys too -- not as possessions, but as people with your own thoughts and feelings.”

“That’s what a real dad is supposed to do, isn’t it?”Chase asked, and the naked hope in his voice nearly broke me.

I pulled him closer, pressing a kiss to the top of his head like I used to when he was small.“Yes,” I whispered.“That’s exactly what a real dad does.”

Chase nodded against my shoulder, seeming to find some resolution in our conversation.When he finally pulled away, his expression was lighter than I’d seen it in years, as if some invisible burden had shifted.

“I should check on Levi,” he said, rising to his feet.“He was worrying about Hammer too.”

“Tell him Hammer’s fine,” I said.“And, Chase?Thank you for telling me how you feel.It means a lot.”

He ducked his head, suddenly shy.“Yeah, well.Don’t tell Hammer yet, okay?I want to… I need to tell him myself.When I’m ready.”

I nodded, understanding completely.“It’ll be your choice.When and if you ever do.”

As I watched him disappear back into the house, I felt a sense of peace settle over me.The path ahead might not be easy -- nothing worth having ever was -- but I felt like we were moving toward something instead of just running away.

I returned to our bedroom after my talk with Chase, settling into the chair by the window to watch Hammer sleep.His face looked softer in repose, the hard lines of vigilance smoothed away by exhaustion and painkillers.An hour had passed in this quiet vigil, my mind replaying Chase’s words again and again.That my son could want Hammer as a father, despite his initial distrust of all men, especially bikers, felt like a small miracle.A healing I hadn’t dared hope for when we’d fled Florida with hardly anything and terror nipping at our heels.

Hammer stirred, grimacing as consciousness brought pain back into focus.His eyes found mine immediately, a silent question in them.

“The boys are fine,” I assured him, answering before he could ask.

He nodded, pushing himself up against the headboard with a poorly concealed wince.I moved to help him, but his raised hand stopped me.Always so stubborn about showing weakness, even now.

“How long was I out?”he asked, voice rough with sleep.

“About two hours,” I replied, glancing at the bedside clock.“Most of the brothers are still at the clubhouse.It’s quiet.”

Before he could respond, a sharp knock sounded at the front door.Hammer was on his feet in an instant, reaching for the gun he’d placed on the nightstand, despite his injuries.I followed him into the hallway, heart racing despite the relative safety of the compound.Old habits died hard.

Hammer checked through the peephole, muscles visibly relaxing when he saw who stood outside.He disengaged the locks with practiced efficiency, opening the door to reveal Atlas, his slender frame silhouetted against the security lights.The young hacker held a manila folder in one hand, his expression uncharacteristically serious.

“It’s late,” Hammer said by way of greeting, stepping back to let Atlas enter.

Atlas slipped inside, nodding briefly to me before turning back to Hammer.“Need to talk to you,” he said, his gaze flicking toward the boys’ rooms.“Both of you.It’s important.”

Something in his tone made me uneasy.“Is there trouble?Are the Minions --”

“Nothing like that,” Atlas assured me quickly.“This is… personal.”

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