Hammer (Regulators MC Book 2)

by Chelsea Camaron

  “Coal, this is Desirae,” Boomer introduces, and I extend my hand.

  The man known as Coal shakes his head at me, rejecting my greeting. I can’t stop my reaction as my mouth drops open. I have been around bikers. The Hellions are assholes ninety-eight percent of the time, but to refuse to shake my hand when I gave him no sign of disrespect … Well, that is cold.

  Then again, their president is named Ice. Maybe that’s their theme. Hammer will knock someone out, and Coal is black as coal in his hardened heart.

  I let my mind drift. Do they have a member named Killer? I mean, with the way these guys are, I don’t see them having smartass names like the Hellions. No, I feel like they have some crazy literal meaning, like Cujo, the rabid dog, or something.

  God, I need a Xanax or a drink. Hell, my nerves are so shot I wouldn’t be opposed to someone giving me both.

  “Don’t take it personal,” Ice whispers to me. “He doesn’t touch women he doesn’t pay.”

  I almost choke on my own spit. What the hell does that mean?

  Suddenly, I don’t know if I can do this.

  I look over at Tank who is as calm as ever. He doesn’t seem the least bit worried about leaving me here. Then why am I freaking out?

  Shooter and Boomer stand up from the table, and my gut fills with dread. This is it. They are about to leave me here in the hands of the Regulators.

  Tank doesn’t take his eyes off my face as he also stands up and walks over to where I’m sitting. When he holds out his hand in a silent order to take it, I grab it like I’m drowning and it is the last lifeline I will ever have.

  The big paw that he calls a hand pulls me up then cups the side of my face, and his other hand gives my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “You’re good here, Drill Sergeant. Swear. We’re gonna head straight home and sort your shit out. As soon as we do, you can come home, ’kay?”

  My throat feels tight, like I’m going to burst into tears at any given moment, but I manage to make my voice sound strong when I answer him. “Okay, Tank.”

  “Your sister is gonna get her justice, and we’re gonna make you safe. Count on it. Till then, keep yourself out of trouble and listen to Ice.”

  Nodding, I somehow keep myself together as Tank drops his hand and walks out of the club with Tripp, Shooter, and Boomer. I can’t help staring after them for a few seconds. It’s not long before I hear their box truck’s diesel engine rumble to life and then drift away.

  This is it. I wanted to get out of North Carolina, and the Hellions made that happen for me. Therefore, I refused to let myself cry like a whiny little girl when they made so many sacrifices to get me what I wanted.

  Taking a deep breath, I blow my frustrations out and shore up my spine of steel. I can do this. It is only for a little while.

  I turn back to Ice and Coal, putting on the best impression of a chipper, professional smile that I can muster, and ask, “So, where’s my patient?”

  Coal snorts and turns his head away, almost as if he can’t stand to look at me. No biggie, I can ignore him as much as he can ignore me.

  Concentrating on Ice, I continue, “Also, I was wondering if you guys could tell me where I will be staying.”

  One side of Ice’s mouth ticks up in a half-smile, as if he finds me amusing.

  “I spoke with Hammer’s brother, who’s been doing his best to help Hammer out, and we decided that it’s best if you stay with Hammer at his condo. Tank said you were Drill Sergeant Bust My Balls?”

  I nod.

  The other side of his mouth ticks up so he has a full blown grin now. “Well, then you can consider your time with Hammer as his own little boot camp. Trust me when I say he needs it. If you’re ready to go, I’ll take you over there now.”

  My eyes widen at his obvious attempt to hurry up and get me out of the club. Am I holding him up or something? Or is it that he doesn’t want the customers to come in and see me?

  It may be a bad idea to ask, but I can’t seem to stop myself from doing so. “You trying to get rid of me or something, Ice?”

  “Well, I made the dancers stay in their dressing room so you wouldn’t get uncomfortable. They need to get their asses in motion, though, and do some final preparations before we open the doors. Unless you wanna see some nearly naked bodies, I suggest you get your ass up and in motion.”

  Crinkling my nose at the idea of seeing half-naked women, I stand up and grab my bag from the floor. “Yeah, I think I’ll pass on that spectacle. I’m ready when you are.”

  Coal lets loose another snort, but continues to pretend I am not there. “I’ll stay here until you get back.”

  “Sounds good, brother. Let’s go, Drill Sergeant Bust My Balls, and get you to your patient.” He is smiling when he says it, but I can’t tell if it’s because he thinks my name is funny or because he thinks the joke is really me.

  Deciding not to let that question fly, because I didn’t really like the answer to my last question, I quietly follow the big, bad biker president down the hallway.

  He stops briefly to knock on one of the closed doors and barks “All clear” through the panel before continuing on our journey. I hear the door open behind me and studiously ignore the sound, not wanting to see a woman naked and more than likely looking much better than me on my best day.

  I have one foot out the back door when I hear a sharp catcall whistle behind me. Shocked at the sound, I turn my head and promptly trip over my own feet at what I find. There, standing in the hallway in a star-spangled banana hammock, is a buff, drop dead gorgeous man smiling at me. I don’t catch all of his features, mainly because my eyes are glued to the bulge that seems too big to be true in the man’s tight, sparkly, and rather patriotic thong. Regardless, I do hear him offer me a good time if I ever decide to come back.

  A hard wall, otherwise known as Ice’s back, stops me from falling flat on my face.

  Quickly pushing myself upright so as to not piss off the burly biker who is supposed to keep me safe, I stammer an apology. “S-sorry. I’ve got two left feet today.”

  He looks back over his shoulder with a knowing grin. “Funny you should say that. I heard Captain Big-Dick-Ulous has a new pump that could give him two feet, too. Only, his aren’t left feet, if you know what I mean. I heard him behind us, so if you got a good look at him, you can tell me if he was telling the truth about that new dick pump of his.”

  Now would be a good time to show the Regulators MC what I have already proven to the Hellions MC: I know how to keep my mouth shut.

  “I plead the fifth.”

  Chapter

  8

  ~Hammer~

  Why am I wound up so tight? I haven’t felt this way since I was fucking the commander’s daughter in high school and praying he wouldn’t come home and catch us. Her parents had a rule of no boys in her bedroom, so the cheerleading captain rode me hard on the couch in the living room where they could walk in and see.

  It was not the smartest move I ever made, but at seventeen, I was thinking with the wrong head.

  There is too much riding on this working. I’m a man’s man kind of guy. Now in the blink of an eye, I’m crippled and have to have a roommate. Danger or not, I have to share my space with another person for the unforeseeable future when I just want to hole up here in my own world until the doctors can sort out my mobility.

  It’s funny how life works sometimes. I never wanted to settle down. Seeing what my mom went through after depending on a man and having it all shot to hell by an accident, I didn’t ever want anyone to depend on me, only to be let down.

  I never thought my life would end up with me depending on others.

  “You just gonna sit there, or you gonna help me make sure she’s set up?” Evan says in a clipped tone as he comes out of my second bathroom.

  “She?” I ask as thoughts run crazy in my head.

  How will a female handle me? How will she fix the mangled mess of my hips and legs? I’m not a
chauvinist, but I am a two hundred ten pound, six-foot tall man who is unstable on his feet.

  Is she an Amazon? She sure as shit needs to be if she has a shot in hell of picking me up on the off chance I have an accident and fall on the floor.

  Thankfully, in the couple of accidents I have had since coming home, my chair was still nearby so I could pull myself up into it. That doesn’t mean an incident won’t come when I fall out of bed or from the shower chair, and my wheelchair won’t be anywhere near me for whatever reason.

  Insecurities fill me as the anger returns. The guys have a girl coming to help me. Well, fuck that! Why should I worry about cleaning up? She can at least handle that since she can’t do much else for me.

  I smirk at my brother coldly. “Last time I checked, as a PT, she needs me to be mobile. Last time I checked, my ass was stuck. So the way I see it, if Miss Priss needs something, she can get it her damn self.”

  He glares at me. “Would it kill you to be hospitable?”

  “Yes,” I bark out.

  Would it kill him to have a little understanding? Yeah, it would, and me, too. The last thing I want is pity.

  Since the car accident, I have been all over the place: from angry to depressed to wishing I could pretend none of it ever happened. More than anything, I want to be left alone, but baby brother here won’t let me be. Really, with the way I’m all over the place mentally, I feel like I give myself whiplash at least twice an hour.

  This isn’t going to work.

  The sound of people on the other side of the door puts me on edge. I can’t back out now. Time stands still as I watch the nickel-plated door knob twist before it opens.

  Almost as if in slow motion, I see Ice standing there. My prez continues to hold the door open as he nods his head to someone who must be standing just out of sight. As my heart starts pounding away in my chest, and my forehead breaks out into a sweat from my oncoming anxiety attack, a flip-flop covered foot with pink painted toenails appears, followed by a trim leg in a tight pair of jeans, which is attached to a shapely pair of hips.

  My eyes keep traveling upward over her abdomen, which is hidden by her T-shirt, and then up some more to her breasts that are definitely not hidden by the same shirt. No, her shirt is hugging her ample chest in a way that gets little hammer below the belt stirring in a way he hasn’t in a long time.

  I blink once, twice, but I can’t shake my reaction to her. She’s beautiful and unlike the usual women I go for. She’s shapely but tone with wild hair, though not in a trashy way, and she has a nervous smile that makes me want to give her a hug and tell her everything will be okay.

  Holy shit, now I want to be warm and fuzzy and hug people?

  The medications are fucking with me. Never has a woman gotten me so twisted in an instant. It’s the accident. It’s the changes. It’s anything and everything but her. Regardless, with my club brother and Evan present, I know I have to focus on not chasing her away or fucking her in front of them. I don’t know which I want to do more.

  Since I don’t want to seem like a complete asshole to my new roommate, I make my eyes move off her mouthwatering breasts, up over her face, until I reach her eyes.

  It sounds cliché, but I think time fucking stops … or maybe the world. I sort of feel like the floor beneath my chair is shifting sideways, and I’m about to fall out of my chair like a flaming idiot.

  I’m not trying to sound like some Shakespearian pussy-boy, but her rich brown eyes shine at me in such a way I swear they are as bright as pennies … only prettier. They are the most gorgeous eyes I have ever seen, and I have the irrational urge to see them against my sheets, along with all that wild, sexy, curly brown hair she has.

  It’s not as long as I usually like it, but the way her curls fall around her face makes me wonder what they would look like after I fucked her into the mattress good and hard for a few hours straight.

  I’m still lost in her beautiful brown eyes as she comes through my doorway then stops dead cold. I snap out of my daydream to realize she’s standing right in front of me … and I have to crane my head back to keep my eyes trained on hers, which won’t stop staring at me.

  The sensation that flows through me is worse than having ice cold water poured on you when you’re asleep. It is more than a shock; it is a hit to the very manhood I didn’t think I had left. Now I’m obliterated completely.

  All by a curvy, little woman who is looking at me with a mixture of hope and dread.

  I never understood the phrase “love to hate” until just now. Everything about the foxy woman in front of me lights up every caveman instinct I never knew I had, and I’m half a man who can’t do a damn thing about it now.

  ~Desirae~

  My hands are shaking by the time Ice stops in front of the condo door. I don’t think I have ever been this nervous to meet a client. The thing is, these aren’t normal clients or normal circumstances. I work for badasses who could probably make me disappear in a heartbeat if they had to. The Hellions are damn good guys I know would never hurt me, but all of these bikers are brand new to me. I don’t care if Tank double pinky swore I would be safe here; they need to earn my trust as much as I have to earn theirs.

  Ice opens the door and holds it open for me. Warily, I step from where I was standing off to the side and look into the infamous Hammer’s apartment for the very first time. It seems nice, if a little messy and sparse. There is the bare minimum furniture of the typical man cave: leather couches and big ass television. There are no knick-knacks or decorative items to liven up the place. There are nice, hard wood floors, and what I can see of his furniture looks to be on the expensive side instead of cheap. But where is the patient I have been warned so thoroughly about?

  Taking two more steps until I’m through the door, my hand tightens on my bag’s shoulder strap in anticipation. I look toward the other side of the room, and that’s where I find a hulking man in a wheelchair that almost seems too small for him.

  His hands are clutching his chair’s arm pads so tightly I think that he may be more nervous than I am. My gaze travels from his hands up to his face, and I almost stop dead in my tracks.

  Would he hate me if I told him he is gorgeous? Because he is.

  He has short, spiky, blond hair cut close to his scalp; chiseled cheekbones; a strong, square jaw; and eyes that sort of remind me of the ocean. They are murky, deep, swirling shades of blue and green that draw me in, only to spit me back out a second later due to the emotion that begins to burn through them: anger.

  Perhaps even hate.

  Holy shit, what did I do to piss this guy off already?

  “Well, are you just gonna stand there and stare, or are you gonna come the fuck into my home?”

  Oh, shit. He thinks I’m gawking at him in his chair. I totally know better than to do that shit to patients who are only recently disabled. He is still psychologically struggling with his situation, and that’s totally understandable.

  Pasting on a brave smile, I step forward, hold out my hand, and introduce myself. “Hi! My name’s Desirae, but you can call me Des. Sorry if you thought I was staring at you. I didn’t mean to seem rude, but has anyone ever told you that you have the most incredible eyes?”

  Said incredible eyes turn from angry to disbelieving as he reaches out, takes my hand in his own, and gives it a quick shake before practically tossing it away.

  “Sure, along with a big, swingin’ dick. Name’s Hammer. This is my house. Try not to fuck it up.”

  Shocked by his rudeness, I stand there as he just keeps going, jerking a thumb to another guy who stands to his right and behind him.

  “This is my brother Evan. He’s the pretty boy who strips for a living, so you should try to blow smoke up his ass instead of mine about incredible eyes. You’ll get laid faster that way. In the meantime, I’ll stay out of your way if you stay out of mine.”

  Whirling his chair around in an angry huff, he barrels down a hallway faste
r than a race horse, presumably into what is his bedroom. Then he slams his door shut.

  Holy crapola! What just happened here?

  Turning my head, I look at Ice who is blocking the doorway, almost as if he is afraid I will try to run.

  I snarl, “You said he was an asshole, but you didn’t tell me that he was an epic asshole with a chip on his shoulder because someone obviously pissed in his Wheaties. If he’s gonna be like this the entire time I’m here, I’ll expect a pay raise. I don’t care if you guys are doing me a favor or not.”

  Ice smirks, holding both of his hands up in the air as if he is trying to placate a crazy woman or something. He has no idea! I haven’t shown him crazy yet.

  “If you think about it, I did warn you. I told you he was hurting, angry, and acting like an asshole.”

  Put off by his totally logical explanation, I huff back, “But you forgot to tell me someone pissed in his Wheaties!”

  Rolling his eyes, Ice walks into the condo and closes the door. “If you think that’s bad, you won’t last a day with him. Tank said you can take care of yourself, so pull up your big girl panties and do your job, woman.”

  I let out an exasperated huff. Tank gave him his word that I am good. I’m here on his name. I will show these guys just how tough the Hellions have made me. I can take care of myself and their asshole, too.

  “Your room is down the hall,” Evan says, extending his hand in the opposite direction of Hammer’s room.

  “How self-sufficient is he?”

  The guys both smirk at me.

  “I read the file, but living in an unequipped home changes what a patient is capable of. I’m concerned with being across the place from him should he need assistance at night.”

  “Oh, our boy will need lots of assistance at night,” Ice quips, looking me up and down. “You might fit the bill with all those curves, but with the life we lead, I’m not sure you can handle the Hammer.”

  Frustrated, I roll my eyes. “I mean on a professional manner.”

  “She’s got spunk,” Evan chimes in. “This might work, after all.”