by Shayla Black
Hammer could only watch the other man take the woman he loved away, maybe this time for good.
#
Two hours later, Hammer sat on the edge of his bed, swirling a tumbler of Scotch, his thoughts circling like the amber liquid. He’d lost the grip of his icy control in the kitchen with Liam. Why the hell had he suddenly unloaded years of anger and dumped it on the man? Had he expected Liam to magically wash away the layers of blame and make everything better? Hammer scoffed. By finally vomiting out the truth, he’d managed to purge a lot of resentment. Why didn’t he feel any better? He should have confronted Liam and his own guilt years ago. He just hadn’t had the balls to wade through the shit. He really didn’t want to now.
“Mind if I join you?”
Hammer zipped his stare to the doorway to find Beck leaning against the frame, his arms folded across his chest, eyeing the decanter of Scotch on the nightstand.
“Help yourself.” Hammer nodded, raising his glass in the air, toasting his own stupidity. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d taken everyone back to your place for beer and football.”
“We caught the last half of the game, then they all bailed. I came back to see if the club was still standing. What the fuck, man? I don’t think I’ve ever sat through a more uncomfortable Thanksgiving. What do you have planned for next year, pissing in the gravy?”
Hammer issued a humorless chuckle. “You missed the fun part.”
“Yeah, I kind of figured. When I couldn’t find anyone, I peeked in the kitchen.” Beck gave a low whistle. “It looks like World War Wedgwood hit that place. So who won?” Beck asked, cocking a brow as he pulled up a chair across from Hammer and took a seat.
“No one.” Hammer sighed in disgust. “I royally fucked up, man.”
Beck swallowed down a healthy gulp of Scotch and hissed. “What did you do this time?”
Hammer filled the sadist in on all the ugly details as he refilled their glasses.
When he was done, Hammer closed his eyes. He could still see Juliet’s pale, naked body lying on their bed. Her blonde tresses spilled out over the gray silk sheets; white foam congealed around her blue lips. Her eyes were open, lifeless, staring past him as if he wasn’t there. And he hadn’t been when she’d taken her own life. When the world had crumbled beneath Juliet’s feet, she’d given up, welcoming the end without him.
“I should have told Liam how much guilt I was drowning in a long time ago. But I didn’t.” Hammer rubbed at his forehead. “He was so young, and I thought I was protecting him because he wouldn’t be able to handle the truth. Besides, she was my wife. Liam had signed up for sex and good times, not…all that. I didn’t know how to cope, so I shut down. I shouldered all the responsibility for her death. When he moved on to a normal life and got married, I resented the fuck out of him. I just kept getting more and more pissed off. I ended up blaming him for pretty much everything.”
“You’re a dumbass.” Beck shook his head.
“Yep.” Hammer groused, then downed the contents of his glass and filled it once more. “I accused him of helping to push Juliet over the edge because he frequently fucked other subs.”
“Is that true?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” Hammer sighed. “She never told me how she felt. About anything.”
“You’re an even bigger idiot than I thought. You blame Liam for maybe upsetting Juliet because he couldn’t keep his pants zipped. But you know your manwhoredom crushed Raine and you didn’t take responsibility for that one whit. Really, dude?”
“I know. I was just pissed as hell and looking for a way to unload my guilt.” Shaking his head, he swirled the liquid in his glass and watched it turn. “What Juliet did completely shell-shocked me. I didn’t have a fucking clue how to deal with it. I sure as hell couldn’t bring myself to examine my own role too closely. Blaming him was easier.”
“Are you examining it now?”
“I’m trying not to. Hence the Scotch,” Hammer replied, then tossed back a healthy swig.
“Yeah, that’ll really do the trick,” Beck drawled.
“No, it won’t. Trust me. I’ve tried for years.” But that didn’t stop him from pouring another. He tipped back the glass in a futile attempt to wipe away the memory. Sure, it numbed his guilt, but never eradicated the stain from his soul.
“So maybe you should stop trying to drown your crap. Dissect it and then let it go. Hell, who knows, you just might end up a happier son of a bitch.”
“What makes you think I’m not happy?”
“Gee, I have no clue.” Beck shook his head. “You’ve got to come clean with Liam.”
“Why would I do that after he stole Raine?”
“Stole? Let’s cut the shit, shall we?” Beck leaned in and narrowed his eyes. “You owe Liam an apology. And then you need to pull your balls out of your purse, cupcake, and tell Raine how you feel about her. See what happens.”
“Don’t you have a home to go back to?” He glared, nursing his drink.
“Aww, but digging in your head is a lot more fun.” He slapped Hammer on the shoulder. “Besides, you need a friend who’s not afraid to put a stop to your big ol’ boo-hoo pity party.”
Hammer winced. “Don’t hold back, Beck. Tell me how you really feel.”
“I’m trying. Pull your head out of your ass, unless you enjoy the smell. If you didn’t tell Liam anything about Juliet’s death, how could you expect him to take half the blame?”
“She killed herself, and he never asked why. What the hell?”
“What would you have done in Liam’s shoes? The woman you’re sharing in an open relationship offs herself, and her husband won’t talk to you.”
Hammer drained his glass, wishing he could strangle Beck for such an ugly goddamn question. “I guess…” He sighed. “Fuck, if I’d been Liam, that would have been my sign to keep out. He said he didn’t want to pry, but I think he blamed me.”
“But he didn’t tell you that?”
“No.”
“So you’re assuming?”
“Shut up, Freud.” He poured more Scotch. “You’re a vascular surgeon, not a shrink.”
Beck shrugged. “I did my nine weeks’ psych rotation. I’m almost qualified.”
“Then why don’t you examine your own life? There’s plenty of shit there.”
“Nah. I’m screwed up, but not nearly as much as you.” Beck chuckled.
“Fuck off.”
“Seriously. Stop drowning in your booze and go apologize to Liam.”
“He won’t listen to a damn thing I have to say, especially after I told him I’d fuck Raine again when I got the chance.”
“And you decided to pour gasoline on the fire, why? Weren’t the flames hot enough for you?” Beck shook his head. “You’ve got way too much pride, Macen, and it’s biting you in the ass.”
“It’s not the first time.”
“And probably not the last.” Beck paused. “What drew you both to Juliet? What was she like?”
Hammer sloshed back another stiff swig. “Quiet. Refined. Proper. She was a lady. The downside was, she didn’t like conflict or confrontation.”
“I just can’t see you with a quiet girl. You need the challenge of a spitfire sub.” He cocked his head. “Like Raine.”
Hammer winced. “I know. Her sassy attitude makes me want to smack her ass and fuck her breathless. I can’t get her out of my blood. I’ve tried.”
“Too bad you haven’t tried being honest with everyone.”
“There’s the door, fucker.” Hammer pointed. “I didn’t invite you in to unravel me. I’m not one of your pain sluts.”
“So you’re going to shove me out, like Liam. Newsflash for you: I don’t have a dog in this hunt. I don’t care what you do, except that I’d like to see my friend smile once a decade. We don’t have to talk about a damn thing. We can get staggering drunk, then you can deal with your own mess tomorrow. And while you’re at it, stop badgering Raine for not communicating because
you’re no better.”
Yeah, Beck just kept digging in his head and figuring all his shit out. Wasn’t this fun? Hammer downed the last of the liquid in his glass. Beck snatched it away.
“I hate you.” Hammer scowled.
The other man laughed. “Good, then I’m doing my job. We drinking or talking?”
“Talking,” he conceded, shaking his head.
“Happy to hear it. Now tell me how Juliet went from good girl to sex slave for you two?”
“I got off on pushing her past her comfort zone. It was like pure power pumping through my veins, and it fed the fuck out of the beast inside me. So I kept pushing and pushing…”
“You’re supposed to do that as a Dom.”
“Yeah, but she almost never pushed back. Once, I brought in a Domme. Juliet did safe word out of that. So I took her to a dungeon to see what tripped her trigger. The only thing that seemed to catch her eye was Liam sceneing. When I approached him about Juliet, he was all over it. Hell, he was twenty-one, but he had a firm understanding of the power exchange.”
“So he joined you?”
“For a night, at first. But I loved it. I thought she did, too. Knowing I could make a proper wife fuck another man did it for me. I thought she liked connecting with her inner bad girl, and they seemed to click, so I asked him to stay for good. By the time I found out it made her feel like a whore, it was too late. I mistook her silence for submission.”
“You didn’t ask a ton of questions before you changed the relationship?”
Hammer hung his head. “Not enough. I was drunk on power and not a shining example of a Master.”
“Wow. That’s not the man I know. I seriously can’t see you not forcing Juliet to communicate. You nearly talk subs to death.”
“Oh, I tried to talk to Juliet, believe me. Every time I sat her down and told her I needed to know how she felt, she’d give me a placid smile, tell me she loved me, shower me with kisses, then usually give me a blow job. I bought into her acquiescence, thinking she was the perfect submissive. I should have dug harder, but she never gave me any reason to. But she taught me a valuable lesson. That’s why I harp on subs now about communication.”
“Hammer, she didn’t give you anything to work with. You did the best you could with what you knew. After all, there were two people in that marriage. She made her choices.”
He shrugged, but he couldn’t unload the boulder of guilt from his back. Instead, he took his glass from Beck and poured another shot. “But it was my job to take care of her, physically, emotionally, and mentally. I failed her in every way.”
“What happened next?”
“After her death, I shut down. I was alone and miserable. I couldn’t stay in New York. Too many memories. Too much hurt. I didn’t know where to direct my rage, except toward Liam. I couldn’t pin it on Juliet. She was a victim of my desires and my ego.”
“Wait a minute. She wasn’t a victim. She didn’t tell you how she felt and she didn’t give you a choice. She took the power. Weren’t you pissed at her for taking her own life?”
“Livid. I know that’s part of the death process, but I wondered if I’d ever really known her. I thought I loved her, but how could I love a stranger?”
“I’m not speaking ill of her, but it sounds like she was repressed, depressed, and just fucked up.”
Hammer flubbed through a laugh. “Maybe. A little.”
“Haven’t you beat yourself up enough yet? Are you sure you don’t have a little bit of a masochist in you?”
“You wish.” With a shrug, Hammer stared down into the alcohol. “Good strategy. Wait until I’m drunk so I’ll talk.”
“Hey, it worked.”
“Prick.”
“That’s Sir Prick.” He snickered. “So neither you nor Liam had any hint that Juliet was unhappy or contemplating suicide? Or that she was pregnant?”
“Nope. That mistake cost me dearly.”
“That explains why you dole out Raine’s medication. And why you’ve always kept track of her cycles. I had no idea it was that bad, man. I’m sorry.”
Beck’s words were slathered in sympathy. Hammer didn’t need it. He just wanted the regret and shame eating him up inside to go away.
“I can’t believe you’ve been carrying this crap around all these years.” Beck looked as blown out of the water as Liam had earlier.
“Yep, until tonight when I puked up every ugly bit of it, right onto Liam.” The memory of utter shock on his old friend’s face slid through Hammer’s veins like black, oily sludge.
Beck’s eyes grew wide as if suddenly struck with understanding. “Well, now I know why you won’t tell Raine you’re in love with her. All these years you’ve wanted to claim her, but…”
“I’m no good for her,” Hammer interrupted. “She deserves a better man and Master.”
“Yeah? And everyone can see you’re doing so great without her,” Beck mocked.
“I never said that.”
“So all the submissives you take to bed are what? Substitutes for Raine?”
Hammer leveled a look of warning toward Beck. “You’re stepping over a line. Watch yourself.”
“No. I’m not going to candy-coat it for you, and deep down you don’t want me to.”
True. “They’re not substitutes. They’re able to handle what I need. When I’m rough and strict, it silences the guilt screaming in my head.
“What about the night you spent with Raine. Guilt then?”
Hammer’s hand tightened around his glass. “She silenced it all. There was nothing but peace.”
“So why don’t—”
“I don’t deserve to have it silenced. Don’t you understand? I failed Juliet. I’ll be damned if I fail Raine.”
“You think Raine might check out like Juliet someday?” he asked Hammer.
“No. Never.”
“At least you’ve gotten that much through your thick skull. Raine may not be the greatest communicator, but she’s a fighter, Macen. You know that.”
Yeah, he did. All the years he’d spent with Juliet he’d never truly seen his wife’s soul. No matter how he’d tried, it had been like looking through smoke. He could see Raine’s bright beacon as clear as day. She wasn’t a quitter. The girl could be so damn self-sufficient. She’d left that prick of a father as a kid, and without fear of how she’d survive, drew from her inner strength to forge a better life for herself. Hammer knew what Raine would do if she were unhappy, and it sure as hell wasn’t swallow a bottle of pills.
“I might have to hunt her down,” Hammer said. “But I’ll never have to bury her. If I’d thought for two seconds that I might, the possibility of her being pregnant would have sent me into a panic.”
“Then stop projecting your guilt over her and Liam, and start being honest with them both. Hasn’t Juliet taken enough from you? Maybe your child, nearly a decade, your happiness? Do something, idiot! Otherwise, you’ll just keep wasting away your life.”
“Thanks for holding back.”
Beck snorted, but he was right. Hammer had wasted so much time. How much longer was he willing to throw away over shit he couldn’t change?
Chapter 6
Unleashing his frustration on the punching bag had done nothing to alleviate Liam’s rage. Every morning in the week following Thanksgiving, he’d slipped away to the gym to escape Shadows and the pressure cooker of problems there, if only for a while. After nearly an hour of the repetitive rhythm, sweat dripped in his eyes and his muscles screamed…but he still couldn’t fatigue himself enough to silence the chaos crowding his head.
Finally, he stripped away his gloves and headed to the shower. As he sagged against the tile wall and let the hot spray cascade over him, he tried to decide what the fuck to do next. His options were limited. Stay or go? Fish or cut bait?
Liam sighed. Hammer was a secretive asshole and his rival for Raine. But he also made a hell of a sounding board, and ironically Liam missed him now.
Once d
ressed, he headed out of the gym and fought the morning rush. As soon as he pulled into the car park of the first beach he encountered, Liam took out his cell and rang Seth.
When his friend answered, he heard the sound of a woman’s soft voice in the background.
“Hey, it’s me.”
“This had better be good, Liam. The things I’m willing to forego for a friend has its limits.”
He could hear the laughter in Seth’s voice and smiled faintly. “I wouldn’t call any of this good, but I could use an ear.”
Seth sobered. “You got it. What happened?”
Liam leaned his seat back a bit and stretched out. “How much did you know about Juliet’s death?”
“Just that she committed suicide.”
“You didn’t know why?”
“No,” Seth answered. “I figured you’d know far more about that than me.”
“I would have thought so, too.” Liam sighed. Exhaustion and frustration tugged at him. He swiped at gritty eyes. “Macen finally told me.”
He related the conversation to Seth. Afterward, his friend said nothing for a long moment. “Holy shit.”
“That sums up how I feel. Hammer held all that in for eight fucking years.”
“He never hinted why Juliet had done herself in?”
“Not once. Not during any of our phone calls, not when I stood beside him at Juliet’s grave on the anniversaries of her death and we talked about old times. Not in the two months since I moved out here. Never…until last week.”
Seth whistled. “You must feel run over by a truck.”
“I was in shock at first. Now, I just keep thinking what the fuck? Hammer blindsided me. Then he blamed it all on me. Fuckwit.”
“You feel betrayed.” Seth didn’t ask.
“I do. And how am I supposed to feel about the fact that Juliet might have killed herself because of my baby?” Somewhere between incredulous and wretched, for sure. “Even though I didn’t know and I can’t do anything about it now, guilt is eating me.”
Juliet’s suicide was ancient history, but Liam’s wound felt fresh.
