Read Online Breaking Hammer (Motorcycle Club Romance) (Inferno Motorcycle Club Book 3) by Sabrina Paige - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sabrina Paige
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back to Vegas, when I’d cleaned myself up but things were still really dark.
The first time he showed up was a year a go.
~ ~ ~
When I saw him standing at the front door wearing his leathers, I felt a rush of anger at the sight of the Inferno MC logo. I’d let the brothers come out to April’s burial, but fuck, I was in such a daze then I didn’t give a shit about what anyone else did. After time away with MacKenzie in Puerto Rico, time away from all of the club shit, I didn’t want to see it anymore. I couldn’t be around it.
“I don’t want t o fucking see the colors, Skunk,” I said. “I’m not a part of that shit anymore.”
He nodded. “I can see that. But you and I go back farther than that, Joe. You know me.”
“I know you,” I said. “And I don’t need you fucking checking up on me. I don’t need the goddamn club checking up on me. You understand what the fuck retirement means?”
He shrugged. “Understood,” he said. Then he turned, got back on his bike. I listened to the motor rev, and watched him ride away. Good riddance. I didn’t need a reminder of the shit that had killed April. I had a new life now. I was a goddamn white collar worker. My job didn’t involve anyone getting killed. It didn’t involve beating anyone to death.
Still, later that night after MacKenzie was in bed, I sat in the garage, drinking a beer, looking at the bike, the one I wouldn’t ride, but couldn’t bring myself to let go of.
~ ~ ~
And then Skunk came back again two weeks later. Showed up on my doorstep, just like before. He just shrugged when I opened the door. That time, I didn’t turn him away. And then he showed up two weeks after that.
It had taken a year for me to consider associating with the club again. And even now, I still wasn’t sure about this shit. I'd gone out to see Blaze, let him talk me into doing that job for the club.
Now all of a sudden I was about to fight, in an actual fight, next week. I can't say there wasn't a small part of me that liked the idea of getting set up for another fight. Liked, hell . I was fucking craving it. I was itching for it like a junkie who needed a fix.
I told myself that just because I was going to the clubhouse didn't mean I was coming out of retirement. It didn't mean I was getting back into the lifestyle. I wasn’t the same person I was, back when I was a part of the MC.
At least, I hoped I wasn’t.
“Shit, man,” Skunk said, clapping his hand on my shoulder. “Fucking great to see you here.”
“Crunch.” Pipes walked up to us, clasped my hand. “Fucking A. Where's your bike?”
Skunk tossed him a dirty look.
I shrugged. “The bike’s in the shop,” I said. I wasn’t sure why I just lied. It’s not like they didn’t know what had happened. Everyone knew. It’s not like I didn’t have a good goddamned excuse not to be riding anymore.
“L ong time no see, man.” Tater greeted us, a red plastic cup of beer in his hand. His long beard trailed down to his stomach. “How’s that kid of yours doing?”
“Oh, she’s good,” I said. “Getting real big now.” I reached into my wallet for MacKenzie’s photos, passed them around.
“She’s practically all grown up. Looks so much like April,” Tater said. Then he paused, gave me a sheepish look. “What happened to April, man, that was some fucked up shit. Just wanted you to know we had nothing to do with that shit, either. We all thought April was one of the best.”
I nodded. “I know,” I said. “Fucked me up pretty good.” The air felt tense, charged with the undercurrent of all the unspoken resentment about the club. Or maybe it was just me that felt that way.
Pipes interrupted, cutting the tension. “You know Rachel and I just had another one.”
“Congrats, man,” I said, glad for the interruption. “That’s great.” I looked at the
The first time he showed up was a year a go.
~ ~ ~
When I saw him standing at the front door wearing his leathers, I felt a rush of anger at the sight of the Inferno MC logo. I’d let the brothers come out to April’s burial, but fuck, I was in such a daze then I didn’t give a shit about what anyone else did. After time away with MacKenzie in Puerto Rico, time away from all of the club shit, I didn’t want to see it anymore. I couldn’t be around it.
“I don’t want t o fucking see the colors, Skunk,” I said. “I’m not a part of that shit anymore.”
He nodded. “I can see that. But you and I go back farther than that, Joe. You know me.”
“I know you,” I said. “And I don’t need you fucking checking up on me. I don’t need the goddamn club checking up on me. You understand what the fuck retirement means?”
He shrugged. “Understood,” he said. Then he turned, got back on his bike. I listened to the motor rev, and watched him ride away. Good riddance. I didn’t need a reminder of the shit that had killed April. I had a new life now. I was a goddamn white collar worker. My job didn’t involve anyone getting killed. It didn’t involve beating anyone to death.
Still, later that night after MacKenzie was in bed, I sat in the garage, drinking a beer, looking at the bike, the one I wouldn’t ride, but couldn’t bring myself to let go of.
~ ~ ~
And then Skunk came back again two weeks later. Showed up on my doorstep, just like before. He just shrugged when I opened the door. That time, I didn’t turn him away. And then he showed up two weeks after that.
It had taken a year for me to consider associating with the club again. And even now, I still wasn’t sure about this shit. I'd gone out to see Blaze, let him talk me into doing that job for the club.
Now all of a sudden I was about to fight, in an actual fight, next week. I can't say there wasn't a small part of me that liked the idea of getting set up for another fight. Liked, hell . I was fucking craving it. I was itching for it like a junkie who needed a fix.
I told myself that just because I was going to the clubhouse didn't mean I was coming out of retirement. It didn't mean I was getting back into the lifestyle. I wasn’t the same person I was, back when I was a part of the MC.
At least, I hoped I wasn’t.
“Shit, man,” Skunk said, clapping his hand on my shoulder. “Fucking great to see you here.”
“Crunch.” Pipes walked up to us, clasped my hand. “Fucking A. Where's your bike?”
Skunk tossed him a dirty look.
I shrugged. “The bike’s in the shop,” I said. I wasn’t sure why I just lied. It’s not like they didn’t know what had happened. Everyone knew. It’s not like I didn’t have a good goddamned excuse not to be riding anymore.
“L ong time no see, man.” Tater greeted us, a red plastic cup of beer in his hand. His long beard trailed down to his stomach. “How’s that kid of yours doing?”
“Oh, she’s good,” I said. “Getting real big now.” I reached into my wallet for MacKenzie’s photos, passed them around.
“She’s practically all grown up. Looks so much like April,” Tater said. Then he paused, gave me a sheepish look. “What happened to April, man, that was some fucked up shit. Just wanted you to know we had nothing to do with that shit, either. We all thought April was one of the best.”
I nodded. “I know,” I said. “Fucked me up pretty good.” The air felt tense, charged with the undercurrent of all the unspoken resentment about the club. Or maybe it was just me that felt that way.
Pipes interrupted, cutting the tension. “You know Rachel and I just had another one.”
“Congrats, man,” I said, glad for the interruption. “That’s great.” I looked at the
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