Breaking Hammer (Motorcycle Club Romance) (Inferno Motorcycle Club Book 3) (24 page)

BOOK: Breaking Hammer (Motorcycle Club Romance) (Inferno Motorcycle Club Book 3)
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I told myself this was not a risk.  I justified it to myself as I took a circuitous route to the hotel, a place far from Aston's and, I told myself, where it was unlikely that Aston had any reach.  I walked swiftly through the lobby, past the front desk, and straight to the elevators, still wearing the scarf that covered my hair, the sunglasses that hid the bruise under my eye.

I went straight to the room Hammer texted me, my breath caught in my throat the entire time, half-expecting one of Aston's goons to pop out and grab me at any moment.

But there was no boogeyman lurking, and when Hammer opened the door, my feeling of relief at not being caught was so intense I nearly collapsed into him.  I stood there, just inside the doorway, so close to him that I could nearly feel him breathing.

"You used a fake name?" I asked.

"Give me some fucking credit," Hammer said, his voice sharp.  "Of course I did.  I'm not trying to get you killed."

"Showing up to my apartment like that, you will get me killed."
 The words came out harsher than I intended, and I cringed as I heard them leave my mouth.  He wanted to help; I knew that.  But sometimes the best of intentions wasn't good enough.

"I want t
o see what the hell that cocksucker did to you," Hammer said.  He reached for my sunglasses, pulling them off my face, and I flinched at his touch, hating myself for the automatic reaction.  Even as I looked down at the ground, I knew he saw my response, and he put his fingers under my chin, turning my face up toward him.  "Christ, what the fuck has he done?"

I felt tears begin to fill up my eyes, threatening to overflow and spill down my cheeks.
 I would not let this man see me cry.  I jerked away from his touch, and turned, walked to the other side of the room, looking for the mini-bar.  I didn't even want a drink; I just wanted to be out from under the intensity of his gaze.

I grabbed one of the tiny bottles of amber liquid from the refrigerator, and poured it into the glass, not bothering to even read what it was.
 My hands shook as I brought it to my lips and sipped, grimacing at the burning of the alcohol as it hit my throat.  I waited for it to quell my shakiness, but it didn't do anything.

From behind me, I heard Hammer approach, but I didn't turn around, willing myself to calm down.
 I didn't need him to see me as some weak thing, some pathetic girl who needed to be pitied.

He put his hand on my shoulder, his touch soft.
 Comforting.  "Now, are you going to tell me what the fuck happened?"

"Aston," I said.
 I felt defeated.  I was tired of running.

"This is what he does to you?" Hammer asked.

"I shouldn't be here," I said.  "He has me followed sometimes.  If his men see you here, he'll kill me.  He'll kill my -"

"I know about the men," Hammer said, stepping forward and sliding both arms around me.
 I felt my body begin to relax, and I knew I couldn't do that.  I couldn't let my guard down.  Not with him, not with anyone.

"What do you mean, you know about the men?"

"I've been tracking them," he said.

"You've been spying on me?"
 Tracking down my apartment and showing up was one thing.  Following me, tracking me like one of Aston's men was something entirely different.  I didn't need another man who thought he owned me.  My body stiffened, and I tried to step away from him, but he held me tight.

"Not like that," he said, his eyes blazing.
 "I was trying to keep you safe.  I am trying to protect you, despite everything you're doing to try to prevent that from happening."

"If you were caught, do you know what would happen?"
 I felt panicked, my breath shallow.  I was going to hyperventilate.

"Tell me," Hammer said, holding me tight.
 "Let me help."

"It's not me."
 I choked the words out, hardly daring to say it.

I felt Hammer's palms on my arms, his chest close to my back.
 My heart began to race, my breath short, a mixture of anticipation and trepidation at what I was about to say.  It felt overwhelming, the magnitude of everything.

"Why are you with Aston?" he asked.

"It's - " I started.  "There's just too much to explain.  It's not for the reasons you think, though."

"You don't know what I think, Meia," he said.

"And you don't know anything about me, Hammer."  I couldn't do this.  I couldn't let him get involved with someone like me.  It wasn't good for him, and it wasn't good for me.  Not with what I had to do.  There was too much of a chance I would feel something for Hammer, and I had to keep that shut down.  
No more attachments,
I told myself.  Nothing that might get in the way.  Nothing that would leave anyone else gutted when I was killed.

I had already been on the receiving end of that with my sister.
 With my son, when he was ripped from my arms.  I had been left in the aftermath, and I couldn't do it to someone else.

"I know you feel something.
 There's something between us, Meia.  I know that much.  You feel it too."

Yes, I felt it.
 I felt the nearly irresistible pull toward him, a force more powerful than I was.  It was the kind of thing that only ended one way...destruction.  "You don't know all the things I've done."

Hammer spun me around, his hands clasping my arms, and I tried to step away, but he held me there, his touch gentle but firm.
 He looked at me, his expression a mixture of lust and sadness.  "Meia," he said.  He kissed the top of my forehead, the feeling of his lips lingering as he withdrew, then kissed my temple, and my cheek, tilting my chin up toward him until my lips were nearly touching his.  "The things I've done...people would think I was a monster."

"You did what you had to do for your family," I whispered.
 "You had to get payback for what happened."

"And whatever you've done, whoever you are," he said.
 "There's nothing to be ashamed of.  Whatever the reason you're with Aston, you don't have to stay."

His lips were so close to mine I could nearly taste him.
 Despite everything screaming in my head, telling me to walk away, I wanted him.  I had never wanted anyone, and to want someone like this, now, it was incomprehensible to me.

"I'll ruin you.
 People who are close to me, they die.  They -"  I couldn't say any more.  But I could feel my resolve beginning to melt away, replaced by the desire for him that clouded my thoughts.

"Too late," Hammer said.
 "You've already ruined me."  He touched his lips to mine, softly like before, and I felt my entire body on fire, charged with electricity.  My lips parted, barely, and I thought,
I should go, before he gets hurt.  Before I get hurt.

But before I could think, his tongue found mine, and I felt my body respond in a way it never had before, not with anyone.
 I let out an involuntary moan, and I heard him make a noise in his throat, guttural, primal sounding, as his hands trailed down my back, pressing me against him.  My nipples hardened against the fabric of my bra, and I felt myself melt into him.  I pulled at his shirt, slipped my hands underneath, wanting to feel his skin.  I wanted him naked.  I wanted all of him.  I didn't understand it, and I wasn't sure I could explain it.  I'd never wanted someone like this before.

"Meia."
 He practically growled it, his mouth close to my ear, his hot breath sending shivers up my spine.  I felt his hardness pressed against me, and I had a sudden pang of panic, this overwhelming sense of fear that he was like everyone else, every other man I'd been with who had used me.

I couldn't do this.

My body, tensed, and he felt it immediately, pulling away from me, looking into my eyes.

"I - Hammer, I'm not - Sex hasn't ever been something I liked or - "

His brow furrowed and I realized he was struggling to understand.  "What do you mean?" he asked.

"It's not - I've never enjoyed it -" I was choking on my words, unable to say what I wanted to say, to let him know who I was.
 "I don't know what it's like to have sex with someone I don't hate."

"Meia," he said.
 I felt his hand on the side of my head, stroking my hair.  "I don't want you to hate me."

"I might be too fucked up," I said, tears springing to my eyes, as if of their own accord.
 I blinked, willing them away, hating this weak part of me that had suddenly appeared.  "I've been - since I was thirteen.  I don't know anything else."

Hammer pulled back from me, his hands still on my arms, and a look of realization, then anger, crossed his face.

I've done it,
I thought, closing my eyes.  
He's walking away.  He doesn't want to be with someone as damaged as I am.

And then I realized he hadn't moved an inch, his hands still warm on me.
 "Jesus.   Fuck, Meia," he said.  "Thirteen.  I can't- Christ, I've been going on and on about the shit that's happened to me, all of my loss.  Meanwhile you're - fuck, I'm a selfish asshole."

"I don't know what to do...with this," I said, my voice hoarse.
 "I don't know how to do any of this.  I'm not...normal."  He hadn't moved, his feet rooted where he stood, and I wondered if he was going to leave.  Surely he would.

"I don't want to hurt you, Meia," he said softly.
 "But I do I want all of you."

He was telling the truth.
 I could feel it, from the depths of me.  He was not the kind of man who would hurt me.  He would do anything to keep me from being hurt.  It was the kind of person he was.  "I know," I said.  "I'm afraid I'll hurt
you
."

He didn't say anything, just looked at me for a long moment, and then I felt him pick me up and carry me, like I was nothing in his arms, toward the bedroom.
 I felt my heels slip off my feet as he carried me, landing on the floor with a quiet thump.

He laid me on the bed, slipping in
to the bed beside me, facing me on his side, his body elongated the length of mine.  "Now," he said, his finger trailing my collarbone, sending shivers through my body.  "I'm tired of waiting.  You are going to tell me everything, and you're going to do it now."

Christ, this goddamned girl was going to be the death of me.
 I wanted to fuck her and protect her all at the same time.  I couldn't get my head straight with her.  She was right; I'd been stalking her.  Shit, I'd become obsessive about it.  I couldn't take that she was with Aston, couldn't deal with the fact that this man was obviously beating her.  Hell, let's be real here - I couldn't stand the fact that anyone else was touching her, let alone hitting her.

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