by Jayne Blue
Hammer
Great Wolves M.C. Grand City Chapter
Jayne Blue
Contents
Text copyright ©2018
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Epilogue
Don’t Miss Steel
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Text copyright ©2018
Jayne Blue All Rights Reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the author or publisher, except where permitted by law or for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
One
HAMMER
I saw the car first. In the moment, I couldn’t say why I knew. But I knew.
I’d spent eight years in Afghanistan. It was worth something.
I guess, among other things, it meant I knew when a vehicle shouldn’t be somewhere. And that late model black Lincoln was out of place.
I’d seen the car around the corner, idling. And then, as we got off our rides and filed into Pinky’s, we were exposed.
There were four of us with Sawyer: Ryder, Ridge, Steel, and me.
But Sawyer was bringing up the rear. He was on his phone. Being Prez meant he was always putting out a fire. There was always someone somewhere who needed something. And Sawyer handled that shit.
Sawyer was my cousin. A lot of people thought that, because we were blood, I’d be in line for the Prez job of the Great Wolves Grand City Chapter. But the ties between all of us were thicker than blood. Sawyer and I may be McCalls, but that wasn’t as deep as Wolves ran. Being in this club ran even deeper than being a McCall.
When I got back, at first, I didn’t want anyone or anything around me. I wasn’t fit to be in this world after leaving a world on fire. But Sawyer brought me in, and with my brothers, slowly helped me leave the hell I’d seen behind me. The memories still came, but not as often now. I had a purpose and a pack with The Great Wolves.
But when that eighties model Lincoln rolled around the corner, I noticed. I shoved Sawyer to the ground as the back-driver’s side window rolled down. Then sparks flew.
“FUCK!” I heard Ridge yell. I had covered Sawyer with my considerable size. He was my height, but where he was built like a basketball player, I was built like a Marine.
“Jesus, what the hell?” Sawyer said, but I stayed put. This club needed him. He was the general; I was just a foot soldier in this army.
I looked up. Ridge, Ryder, and Steel were in a circle around us.
“They gone?” I asked.
Ryder answered first. “Yeah, we’re on it.”
Ridge and Steel ran to their bikes.
Sawyer pushed me off and yelled after them, “Follow, don’t fucking shoot anyone or start anything!”
Sawyer’s life was about keeping us out of wars, keeping Grand City, Michigan safe. Keeping it a good place to be, and protecting this club.
I knew he didn’t want anyone getting killed on his watch.
“They fucking tried to shoot you couz,” I said to Sawyer.
“Yeah, well, let’s find out who they were before we blow up the town.”
Ryder walked over to what was left of the window of Pinky’s Pasta. It was shattered all over the sidewalk.
“Jesus, Sawyer, they were aiming for your fucking head.” Ryder was the biker that looked most like a surfer in our club. He was usually light, joking, and the opposite of me. But right now, there was no sign of a smile on his face.
“Hey, you guys gonna pay for this!” Davey Pinkel, owner of Pinky’s, walked out to find all of us still standing there, wondering what the hell Sawyer had done to earn this bullet.
“Of course, I’ll call my guy right now.” Sawyer was fine, and already in damage control mode.
I was not fine. I was pissed. Sawyer looked over to Ryder.
“Tell Ridge and Steel, nothing, no retaliation. I want to meet back at The Den in an hour, whether they have a lead on who that was or not.”
“Got it,” Ryder said. He looked at me. His mouth was in a tight line.
“Thanks for getting in the way of that bullet. But in the future, don’t. Your Ma will have my ass if you survive three tours in the Middle East but get whacked in Michigan heading in for a plate of lasagna.”
“You’re going to have to get used to the fact that, if there’s trouble coming for you, it’s going to have to get through me.”
Sawyer shook his head and said, “Reverse that, Hammer.” I wasn’t going to argue. Not right now. Right now, there was a shooter out there. That was the top priority.
No one called the cops, not even Pinkel. No one was hurt, and it was only a broken window. Our club would handle this.
We’d get whoever did this. They’d learn there was a price to pay for fucking with the Great Wolves. Even if Sawyer wanted to be legit, there were still ways to get shit done. Ugly and violent retribution was coming. We just had to point it in the right direction. And I had to keep close to Sawyer. This wasn’t a warning; it was a near miss. If I hadn’t been paranoid as hell that bullet would have hit Sawyer in the head.
Ridge and Steel better have names. Because no one shoots at my Prez, my blood, and drives away scot free. No one.
Two
DANIELLA
Rex put a hand behind my hair, pulled it hard, and kissed me on the mouth. I kissed back. I didn’t want him to suspect what I had planned.
I had loved Rex Lynch. Or something like love. At first. For three months I believed he was something that he wasn’t.
He’d started as my savior in leather, my brooding biker, and my walk on the wild side. I’d never been on the wild side before.
The first time he came into the restaurant, he sat in my section. He was a biker. That was easy to see. He wore leather chaps, had arms tatted on every inch of skin that you could see, dark hair, and even darker eyes.
I was nervous when he sat down in my section. I didn’t want to mess up. Rex Lynch was with a few of his crew. They all had patches on their leather that read ‘Devil’s Hawks.’
I got a lot of different types in here. It was a truck stop off I-75. I was accostomed to truckers, families, drug dealers, and salesman. But Rex Lynch and his biker friends? There was something way more interesting and dangerous about them.
I took their order and one of the guys – later I learned his name was Dirt – pinched my ass. Hard. I jumped and dropped my tray. The carafe of scalding hot coffee I’d been carrying spilled, mostly on me. My arm turned pink immediately. My white uniform t-shirt was stained brown, and I struggled to pull it from my chest to get the hot liquid away from me.
And then I worr
ied. Shoot, I’d spilled coffee all over the place.
Morris, my boss, yelled from the kitchen. “Danny, you’re going to have to pay for that uniform, and the carafe.”
I blinked back tears as I crouched to pick up the pieces of glass. Suddenly someone crouched beside me.
“Sorry sugar, Dirt over there was being a dick. I’ll pay for this.” I looked up and Rex Lynch, in all his dark biker swagger, was next to me. I looked at him and not what I was doing. And I cut myself on a shard of glass. It stung and the rebel tear that I was trying like heck to hold back rolled down my cheek.
Rex Lynch wiped it away and then he took my hand. He looked at my index finger, now sliced from knuckle to tip. He put my finger to his lips and sucked the bright drop of blood into his mouth.
I was stunned, scared, and turned on all at once. And from that moment on, I was at Rex Lynch’s side whenever he called.
At first, it was exciting riding with him, seeing how he lived, and how much power he wielded in his club. He was the Prez. And I quickly learned what that meant. What I didn’t really understand was what Devil’s Hawks did, other than ride and hang out.
Rex would pick me up from the double wide I rented, and it was always exciting. People listened to him and no one touched me. I stayed away from Dirt, that asshole who left a mark with that pinch. Bunchie, another Hawk, treated me like I was a china cup that could break. It was sweet.
Rex had money and power. I didn’t ever really know what to talk about with him. He was at least ten years older than me. I didn’t know a thing about his world. But he liked me quiet, and that took the pressure off me, a little.
“You’re a good listener. You don’t bitch about shit. You don’t nag. Most women can’t stop fucking harping.”
The next part started small. He paid for the carafe that broke at the restaurant. He paid for dinner the next weekend. Then one day a gold chain with a little diamond pendant was wedged behind the screen door of my place. At least, I thought it was a real diamond.
A month or so after we started dating, he showed up with clothes he wanted me to wear. Then he brought me a fancy cell phone. “Just use it to text me pictures when I tell you.”
There was no doubt what he wanted me to text him. It embarrassed me. I wasn’t good at that kind of thing.
“It’s just for me baby when I need to see you.”
But I put that off, and I avoided that little trap. Because, as I soon learned, all of it was a trap.
He never asked me a question about my life, not once. So, I never analyzed what I wanted or had to answer anything about my future, or where this was going. I just did what he told me to, more and more each day. In a way, that made things easy.
And it was all so fast. He was fast. I was overwhelmed. I’d never had anyone do these kinds of things for me. I worked, I visited my granddad in the assisted living home, and that was my life before Rex. He tried to make things easier for me. Sure, he bossed me around, told me to wear those clothes he sent, insisted I sit where he said, while he had his club meetings, even if they went until three in the morning. I did what he wanted, and he was good to me. Mostly.
But wasn’t that how it worked, when you were in a relationship? I’d only had one other serious boyfriend, in high school. I didn’t know that I was going down a road that led to Rex Lynch controlling me, controlling every aspect of my life.
I probably would have gone along this way for longer, maybe forever.
Except for three things.
Three
HAMMER
“What the fuck is a Hellz Rebel?” I asked.
“They’re mostly down south, Albuquerque. They’re making a play for territory all over the place,” Sawyer answered. We were sitting around the table at The Den. This was a formal meeting.
“What are they into?” Ryder asked.
“Typical shit. Meth, prostitutes, guns, whatever they can. They’re trying to make a foothold, so they’re not discriminating about what they run or push,” Sawyer explained.
Ridge and Steel had tracked down the Lincoln just in time to watch two Hellz Rebels switching to their Hogs and getting out of town.
Sawyer had told them not to pursue the Hellz Rebels after they left Grand City. I wasn’t sure if I agreed with that order.
“We should have kicked the shit out of them and sent them back to Albuquerque in sandwich bags.” I wasn’t happy about the order to let them go. I knew it meant the Hellz Rebels would be back.
“We’ve got Russians, we’ve got the Devil’s Hawks, and we’re trying to hold on to our legitimate operations. I’m not going to have any of you go off halfcocked.” Sawyer was looking at enemies on several fronts; I was looking at the ones who’d just tried to put a bullet in him.
“Excuse me? They tried to put a bullet in your head,” Steel said, and I knew Steel was thinking like I was thinking. Punishment.
“Calm the fuck down,” Sawyer said.
All of us, to a man, every Wolf, wanted to put the pain on these new players, these stupid ass Hellz Rebels.
Who did they think they were coming into our town?
“We need to look at some facts,” Sawyer continued, ignoring our revenge lust. “They were bold and aggressive, driving into Grand City, shooting at me. That says they’re not afraid. And they know we’re down right now, spread thin.”
“And soft,” Steel said, and though I hated to admit it, I agreed with him. Stone was in Florida, and he was usually on the side of laying down some brute force like I was. But there was no telling when he’d be back with his old lady. Maybe never. Sawyer was settled, married, and so was Ryder. Maybe they didn’t have the edge we needed right now.
“If we don’t attack, now, hard, they’re going to be back. And maybe next time they hit the mark,” I said. I didn’t want to think about how close the bullet had come to Sawyer’s head.
“Like I said, we’re going to have to look at the numbers,” Sawyer repeated.
“We have a few probies coming up,” Ryder pointed out.
“Yeah, and if there is a full-scale turf war here, we can ask for other charters to send guys. I know my old crew at Green Bluff would be here in a heartbeat, except…”
“Except they have their own shit to deal with,” Ridge finished.
“Right, and we’re not there yet. This was one botched attempt to scare us,” Sawyer said.
“So, we’re not going to do shit?” I was livid now, barely able to stay in the room.
“Right, until we make some new allies, we’re going to be business as usual.” Sawyer pounded the gavel. It wasn’t a vote. It was an order.
I just hoped he wasn’t going to pay for this with his life.
Four
DANIELLA
I didn’t like the pictures. That was my first problem. Rex insisted, I gave in, and it didn’t make me feel sexy, at all.
So after one lame foray into sexy text pictures, I stopped sending them. I told him it made me feel too vulnerable. He didn’t press it.
But then I saw other pictures on his phone. I asked him about them.
“That’s my old lady, don’t worry about it.”
I didn’t have time to check the dates. I just got a glimpse. It was enough of a glimpse to sow the seed of doubt about whether I was the only woman in his life. If I wasn’t going to send pictures, maybe someone else was? I tried to brush it off. I had no reason to believe he was still with his old girlfriend. The guy liked naked pictures, and if the vintage ones were doing the trick, great, I’d move on. But still, the whole thing bugged me.
Then I started to listen, really listen.
Rex and his crew had a club, a small building in Flat Rock, off Telegraph Road. It was dark, smoky, and at first, I thought the words “authentic” and rustic fit to describe the place. But the more I was there, the more it seemed sinister, like the hub of something worse than riding or drinking. Rex would have me sit in a booth, for hours. Sometimes I had a drink, sometimes I read a book, other times I
played games on the phone that Rex paid for. A lot of the times I fell asleep.
Soon I started hearing the meetings they were having in the back room. Words like ‘product,’ ‘shipment,’ ‘dealers,’ and ‘guns,’ all slithered through the air from the other side of the wall. It was becoming very clear exactly what Rex was doing, what the Devil’s Hawks were doing, and what I was doing, just by sitting there and not doing anything. I heard names, places, details, and I tried to ignore them, but I heard them. And it was getting harder and harder not to let what I heard sink in.
“Hey, get up.” I had fallen asleep and Dirt, who was always meeting with Rex, had pulled my hair. Dirt still treated me like he could pinch me whenever he wanted to.
“Ouch.” I rubbed my head. Dirt was skinny, smelled like cigarettes, and was always looking at my boobs behind Rex’s back. But I wasn’t the kind of girl to try to create drama or try to make a boyfriend jealous. I ignored it, and I ignored Dirt as much as possible.
“Rex said go back.” But Dirt scared me. There was a mean lecherous asshole under his leather jacket. I wondered if maybe I should tell Rex. Maybe Rex would put a stop to it?
I focused on the positive. For the most part, I didn’t have to deal with Dirt. I spent most of my time with Bunchie.
Bunchie had become my driver, handler, babysitter, and whatever Rex told him. I had begun to trust Bunchie and even liked him. He was funny, and sort of sweet. In a world where sweet was, I was learning, incredibly rare.