HAMMER: Wolves MC (Riding With Wolves Book 1)

by Faith Winslow

  “Terry was serving as my apprentice and being pruned to replace me when the appropriate time came, and there was great hope that, when that time came, he’d be able to accomplish what I couldn’t and finally clean up L.A.’s streets.”

  I felt as if someone had just dropped a house on me or hit me with a ton of bricks. How could all of this been going on around me without me seeing any of it? Was I really that oblivious and self-centered? Was I really that high up on my horse?

  I’d gone to a Wolves’ party looking like a lamb with its nose pointed up in the air. Not only had I overlooked a lot, I’d also failed to see and appreciate what was right in front of me the whole time.

  Crete’s story was shocking and hard for me to fathom. But it was shocking and hard for me to fathom for one reason, and for one reason alone. I didn’t know my brother nearly as well as I’d thought I did.

  I hadn’t said a word for what felt like hours, though it had only been less than one, and I wasn’t prepared to speak just yet. I had about a million questions running through my mind… and luckily, the one at the forefront was the one that Crete went on to broach next.

  “This brings us to Jake Keller,” Crete continued, after a moment of pause. He looked at Hannah, who’d been crying intermittingly throughout his tale, then looked back at me.

  “Jake Keller was a lackey, a street thug and pusher—nothing more than an interchangeable cog in the Seraphs’ machine. But his name came up during the course of our investigation into my wife’s disappearance, and my team decided to follow the lead, even though it seemed a weak one at best.”

  Crete turned to look at Hannah again, and she looked back at him with her doe eyes and nodded her head.

  “If you don’t mind,” Crete said, still looking at Hannah, but addressing me, “I’m going to let Hannah take over from here. She and Terry were the ones investigating Jake Keller—and as such, she knows far more about him and what happened than me.”

  Chapter 27

  ~ Rachel ~

  “Jake Keller was a bad man,” Hannah said. “A very, very bad man.”

  Hannah was weeping, and I couldn’t understand why Crete had handed the figurative microphone over to her. He’d been the one to tell me about her past as a Seraph, even though she would have known far more about that than Crete, too. So why have her talk about Jake? She was pregnant; she’d just lost her boyfriend; and her brother was lying in a coma in a hospital bed. Shouldn’t a man like Crete—a minister—want to spare her the grief?

  “Terry and I tracked him for a couple weeks,” Hannah explained. “And we found out that, like a lot of people, he was willing to do anything for money. So we figured we’d use money to make him talk. We started out cheap and low—paying him off for info on drug deals and other things, just to get into good with him.

  “We got in, planted our seeds, and told him that we’d pay big time for any information he had on a woman named Katy, or as she known by some, ‘Kat.’ Jake contacted Terry a little while later and said he wanted to meet up with us. He said he’d heard two of this brothers talking about getting ‘cat food’ ready, which didn’t make since to him since the Seraphs, as a group, did not own any cats.

  “It was a longshot, and Terry figured Jake was trying to milk money out of us. But a longshot’s still a shot, and Terry thought it was still worth at least a try.”

  Hannah sniffled, looked up at the ceiling, and held back her tears.

  “Jake gave Terry an address and told us to meet him there at four that afternoon,” Hannah continued. “And when Terry showed me the address, I recognized it immediately. It was an abandoned house that the Seraphs had been using as a party house for years, since before my time with them back in the day.

  “I had an appointment at three, so Terry and I decided to each take our separate vehicles to the house. I got to my appointment early, was seen early, and left early—so I made it out to the house early, and in the meantime, Terry had texted me to tell me that he was running late.

  “I was already near the house, and I saw Jake’s bike parked in front of it. Terry wasn’t gonna be there for another forty-five minutes or so. So I told Terry not to even bother coming. I said I’d just take care of the meeting with Jake myself—and I told him to go back to his apartment and put a good dinner on the stove because I had big news to share and wanted to celebrate.”

  Hannah finally looked down from the ceiling and stopped talking for a moment. She repositioned herself in her seat and ran her hand over her baby bump. Even from where I was sitting, I could see T.J.’s tiny foot kicking at her from within.

  After clearing her throat, Hannah went on, “As soon as I stepped onto the sidewalk in front of the house, I could tell that it was now completely abandoned. It wasn’t even a party house anymore, though it was clearly still being used for some purposes, such as the meeting I was about to have.

  “I went into the house and discovered that not only was it abandoned, but it was empty. There was no one in there—not even Jake. Just to be sure though, I looked around for him and called out his name, but I didn’t find him and didn’t get any answer.

  “I was just about to leave, when lo and behold, Jake comes walking through the doorway. He asked where Terry was, and I told him Terry wasn’t coming… and that’s when things started to take a turn for the worse.

  “Jake said he was glad to finally have me alone, that he’d been wanting to have me meet him alone since we first met. He said he could tell that I felt the same way, and that he could sense how badly I wanted him.

  “Of course, I told him that I had no idea what he was talking about and told him that me and Terry were an item. I told him how we’d been dating for a while and were planning on getting married one day and having a family.

  “He laughed at me,” Hannah said, tears rolling down her face. “He laughed at me and called me a whore. He said he’d heard about me from some of the senior Seraphs. He said they’d told him how they used to get me high, pass me around, and fuck me, one after the other.

  “And he said…

  “And he said…

  “And he said, it was a real big shame that he wasn’t a Seraph back then and a real big shame that he never had the chance to fuck me, but now that he had me there, alone—”

  Hannah’s voice trailed off and her face and arms shook as if she’d been locked outside for hours in the middle of an East Coast December. Nonetheless, she bit down, hard, on her lip and continued.

  “Now that he had me there, alone, he was gonna correct that mistake. He was gonna fuck me and show me what we’d both missed out on. I went to run for the door, but Jake blocked it, so I turned and ran in the other direction, towards the back door.

  “I managed to make it to the kitchen, and I saw the back door right there in front of me. It was wide open and waiting. I was so close. I was almost there, but I didn’t make it.

  “Before I could reach the door, I felt my entire body being pulled backwards and my head felt like it was gonna snap off of my neck. Jake had grabbed me by the hair and was pulling me back toward him. And as soon as I was close enough, he stopped pulling and started pushing.

  “He shoved me down onto the floor and jumped on top of me. I was down flat, on my stomach, and he picked me up, at the waist, to flip me over. He said he wanted to look at my pretty little face while he fucked me.”

  Hannah’s tears were flowing down her face like a waterfall now, but she did nothing to try and stop or absorb them. And Crete did nothing to try and stop or absorb his tears either. And neither did I.

  “The appointment that I’d had earlier,” Hannah went on, “was a doctor’s appointment. I’d just found out that I was pregnant. Terry and I were gonna have a baby.”

  Hannah looked up at the ceiling again. And I realized, she wasn’t looking up at it to stop her tears from flowing, and she hadn’t been before. In fact, she wasn’t even looking at the ceiling. She was looking up at Terry—and if there is such a thing as heaven, Terry was up
there, looking right back down at her, giving her the strength she needed to keep telling her story.

  “I begged Jake to let go of me,” Hannah continued. “I begged him to stop. I told him that I was pregnant and didn’t want him to hurt my baby. I begged him to let us go… But he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t stop. And if anything, my begging only spurred him.

  “Jake reached down and started undoing my jeans. I’d been trying to fight him off the whole time, but I realized, at that point, that it was pointless. The more I struggled, the more he got off on it, and the more violent it made him—and the more danger of physical harm it posed to both me and my baby. So I relaxed my body, turned my head to the side, and prepared for what was to come next.”

  Hannah had turned her head to the side and prepared for what was to come next, just like I’d closed my eyes and prepared myself for what was to come next the day before, when Pigpen had me pinned up against the wall in the alley. However, what I’d experienced with Pigpen was nothing by comparison to the unthinkable horror Hannah was recounting.

  “It was then that I saw my purse, upturned on the floor. When Jake grabbed me and tackled me, it must have fallen off of my shoulder—and everything inside of it had spilled out…which is what saved me.

  “I saw the pocketknife that I’d been carrying with me for nearly ten years on the floor, just beyond arm’s reach. I hadn’t used it once, for anything, in that entire time—and I decided this, this, was the perfect time to christen it. So while Jake was still fumbling with my pants, I fought him off just enough to wiggle my body a few inches towards the knife.

  “And as soon as I could, I reach out, grabbed my pocket knife, and popped it open, then I stabbed Jake in the gut… repeatedly. I didn’t count how many times. I just kept doing it until he rolled off of me and seemed too injured to move.

  “I grabbed the important stuff that had fallen out of my purse—you know, anything with my name or identifying information on it—and I got the fuck out of there and went straight to Terry’s apartment.

  “He had dinner waiting on the table for me when I got there, and when he heard me walk into the dining room, he walked out of the kitchen with the biggest smile on his face that I’d ever seen, and he was carrying a vase full of pink and blue flowers, which he dropped on the floor as soon as he saw me standing there, crying and covered in Jake’s blood.

  “I told him what had happened. He called Sam, and the two of them went out to the house to see if Jake was still alive, which he wasn’t. They swept the place and made sure there was nothing to indicate that I’d been there, then they came back, and we came up with our plan.

  “Terry and Sam both agreed that I’d done what needed to be done to escape the situation, and that I didn’t deserve to be punished for it. And given our gang affiliations, my past, and the prejudices that Crete mentioned earlier, they both also agreed that if I fessed up to what I’d done, my life, and my baby’s life, would be destroyed.

  “The police and courts wouldn’t have looked at it as a sexual assault or attempted rape case, but rather, as a homicide case. And my only defense would’ve been self-defense—and it’d have been a difficult defense to make, and my name would’ve been dragged through the mud in the process.

  “My baby would grow up thinking his mom was a slut and a killer—if, that is, my baby even made it to birth. Both Terry and Sam were terrified about what would happen with my pregnancy if I went to prison. They were afraid I wouldn’t get proper medical care or adequate nourishment and were concerned about all the other threats that prison could pose to my pregnancy, from catching shingles or hepatitis to rivalries, shitty mattresses, and yard fights.

  “Sam and Terry bickered back and forth for over an hour about which one of them was gonna take the wrap for me. They both wanted to. But in the end, it was Terry who ‘won out.’ He told Sam that the baby and I were his family and his responsibility, and that it wasn’t up to Sam to take care of me anymore. He said Sam had already proven himself and his loyalties, and that, now, it was his turn.

  “So Terry went out, nicked up his own bike, and turned himself in later that same night.”

  As soon as Hannah finished her sentence, she leaned forward and buried her face in her hands, weeping. My own face was swollen, wet, and hot, and my head was spinning.

  I got up out of my chair, walked over to Hannah, and kneeled down beside her. I wrapped my arms around her and drew her head to my chest.

  “Thank you for telling me the truth about my brother,” I said, sobbing. “And thank you for protecting my nephew. I’m deeply sorry for what happened to you, and there are no words I can use to express that sorrow. But I want you to know that, if, for any reason, you want my forgiveness or approval, you have it. You have it now, and forever. You did what you had to do, and Terry and Sam did the right thing, too.

  “And so will I.”

  Chapter 28

  ~ Sam ~

  “Did you make your choice yet, Hammer?” the signpost asked.

  “Leave me alone,” I answered. “I’m thinking.”

  “Don’t think about it too much,” the signed taunted. “You’re wasting time.”

  “Fuck you, you fucking cocksucker,” I replied.

  “Sheesh, Hammer,” Terry said, suddenly reappearing behind me. I still couldn’t turn to see him, but I could sense him there. “I hope you don’t kiss my sister with that mouth.”

  “How’d you know I kissed your sister?” I asked.

  “I know a lot of things,” Terry answered.

  “Then tell me which way to go,” I sneered.

  “We’ve been over this already, Hammer,” Terry reminded me.

  “Hannah, Rachel, Katy, or my Harley—I can’t make that decision,” I said with a sigh.

  “We’ve been over that already, too, Hammer,” Terry replied, with his own sigh.

  “I give up,” I puffed, defeated. I tried to turn around again, but still couldn’t.

  “Don’t give up, Hammer,” Terry whispered. “And don’t turn back. Move forward.” His voice seemed to be growing quieter with each word, and I strained my ears to hear him.

  “I’m behind you,” Terry’s almost silent voice sounded. “I’m behind you… And so is that Thing in your old flannel; that little piece of shit, Tony Ink; that hooker from outside of Kent Town; and everything that they represent.

  “Don’t turn back. Move forward. The signs are in front of you, and they’re clearly labeled.”

  “Which way, Hammer?” the signpost asked. It started spinning its signs again, and this time, when it stopped, they were pointing in different directions.

  “That’s not fair!” I shouted.

  “Life’s not fair,” Terry replied, louder than ever. “They’re just signs. The direction they point doesn’t matter. It’s the direction you choose that does.”

  “This is ridiculous,” I grunted, rushing toward the signpost. The signs were only loosely attached, from spinning so much, and I reached up and tore them down, one by one.

  “Hmm, that’s interesting,” Terry hummed. “What are you gonna do with those signs now, Hammer?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, curiously.

  “Well, they all just caused a lot of problems, didn’t they?” Terry inquired in a goading manner. “I guess you could leave ‘em here—ya know, toss ‘em aside, put ‘em behind you, or destroy ‘em.

  “Or I guess you could take ‘em with ya—wherever you go. But remember, they’re heavy, and there’s a lot of ‘em—and they might cause ya some more problems down the road.”

  “I get it, Terry,” I said. “I finally get it.”

  “Good for you, Hammer,” Terry said, as I bent down, picked up the signs, and carried all four of them forward.

  “But, I don’t go by ‘Terry’ anymore. I go by ‘Fier.’”

  Fier was speaking, not whispering, but his voice was growing quieter and quieter because of the expanding distance between us.

  “That’s spelled F-I-E-
R.”

  I could barely him anymore.

  “It’s short for ‘Pacifier,’ meaning bringer of…”

  ~ ~ ~

  “Peace,” I grunted. My throat was dry; my tongue felt like it was made out of sandpaper; and my mouth tasted like shit.

  “SAM?!?” someone shouted. My eyes weren’t doing so well either. They burned like hell, and I couldn’t see straight, let alone focus on anything, or anyone, in particular.

  “Oh my God,” that same person gasped.

  I tried to move my arms, but they felt like mush—and so did my legs and, come to think of it, the rest of body.

  “Sam? Can you hear me? Are you awake?” the person asked.

  “Rachel,” I said. It wasn’t a question, but a statement. It took a moment for her voice to register, but sure enough, it did.

  “Oh my God,” Rachel repeated.

  My eyes were slowly starting to focus, and as soon as they did, the first thing I saw was Rachel’s smiling face above me.

  “What happened to your hair?” I asked.

  “It grew,” she giggled.

  “How long have I been out?” I asked next.

  “Do you really wanna know?” Rachel inquired.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Gotta find out at some point.”

  Rachel placed her hand on top of mine and squeezed it. Her skin felt soft and warm, and her touch was so tender.

  “Three months,” she replied, gently caressing my hand. She leaned over and kissed me on the forehead and ran her fingers along the side of my face. As mushy as my body was, I could feel one part of it starting to swell, and another part getting harder.

  “Three months?” I repeated. “And you’re still here?”

  “I’ve been here the whole time,” Rachel said. “Well, not the whole time, but—”

  “Really?” I asked.