Page 13 of Hammer

I shifted my attention back to the road as we passed the police department.Officer out front raised a hand in greeting, which Saint returned with a nod.Good to have law enforcement who understood the arrangement.Didn’t always happen that way.

“Local cops know about us?”Chase asked sharply, catching the exchange.

Smart question.Again.

“Chief Anderson and the club have an understanding,” Saint explained.“We keep the peace; he doesn’t hassle us.He knows you’re under our protection.”

“And if my ex comes looking?”Amelia’s voice was barely audible, fear threading through the words.

Saint’s hands tightened on the wheel.“Then he’ll have a problem bigger than the law.Devil’s Minions aren’t welcome in our town.”

I nodded in silent agreement.Piece of shit like Piston would find himself surrounded by men who specialized in solving problems permanently if he showed his face here.At least, as long as the Pres let us handle it.We might be lending a hand right now, but truth was, this little family wasn’t ours.If Savior thought the club would be in danger, he’d take a step back and reassess.

The SUV slowed as we approached a two-story building with weather-beaten clapboard siding freshly painted a pale blue.The sign over the door readJessie’s Dinerin cursive neon that would light up after dark.

“Here we are,” Saint announced, pulling into a parking space at the side of the building.“Diner’s downstairs, your apartment’s upstairs.There’s a private entrance around back.”

I watched the family’s reaction, noting the way Chase’s body tensed further while Levi’s eyes widened with cautious hope.Amelia stared at the building like she couldn’t quite believe it was real.

“It’s not much,” I said gruffly, “but it’s clean.Safe.”

Amelia’s eyes met mine in the mirror.“Thank you,” she said simply.

I nodded once, then opened my door and stepped out into the heat.I scanned the street out of habit, checking for unfamiliar vehicles or faces.Nothing seemed out of place.

The back door of the SUV opened, and Chase emerged first, standing protectively as his mother and brother got out.I noted again the way his gaze never stopped moving, cataloging every detail of their surroundings.Kid would make a good soldier.Or a good outlaw.Paths weren’t so different when it came to the skills that kept you alive.

Saint led the way toward the stairs at the back of the building, keys jingling in his hand.I brought up the rear, giving the family space while keeping an eye on our six.

As we approached the stairs, I noticed Chase glance back at me, measuring the distance between us and his family.Preparing for a potential threat.I deliberately slowed my pace, letting him see I understood his concern.

The kid’s shoulders relaxed a fraction.Not trust, not yet.But maybe a beginning.

The wooden stairs creaked under our weight as we climbed to the second floor.The stairwell was narrow, the walls freshly painted a neutral cream that couldn’t quite hide decades of lives lived and left behind… a few dings here and there no one had bothered to patch, and a deep scratch in another spot.At the top landing, a single door stood closed, a new deadbolt gleaming in the afternoon sun that slanted through a small window.Saint unlocked it, pushing it open with a slight flourish that didn’t match the wariness in the family’s posture as they hesitated on the threshold of their new beginning.

“Here we are,” Saint said, stepping aside to let them enter first.“It’s not the Ritz, but it’s yours for as long as you need it.”

I remained by the top of the stairs, giving them space.Crowding frightened people into new territory was never smart.Besides, from here I could watch their reactions, gauge their comfort level without looming over them.

Amelia stepped inside first, her movements tentative, like she expected a trap.Chase followed right behind, gaze sweeping the room for threats or hidden dangers.Levi entered last, his gaze more curious than fearful as he took in their new surroundings.

The apartment wasn’t much, but the club had made sure it was decent.Living room with a worn but clean sofa and armchair.Small TV mounted on the wall.Kitchenette with appliances older than the boys but scrubbed spotless.Down a short hallway, two bedrooms and a bathroom.Windows overlooking Main Street, with new blinds for privacy.Everything basic but functional.

The place smelled of fresh paint and pine cleaner, with undertones of the diner below -- coffee and grilled onions and something sweet.Not unpleasant.Lived-in smell.

“Bedrooms are through there,” Saint explained, pointing down the hall.“Bathroom’s been updated, got a new water heater last month.”

Chase moved into the center of the living room, positioning himself where he could see both the entrance and his family.Kid moved like someone who’d learned to fight from necessity, not training.Stance slightly off-balance but ready, weight on the balls of his feet.

“Who lived here before?”he asked, suspicion still edging his voice.

“Waitress named Darla,” I answered from my position by the door.“Moved to Birmingham last month to be near her daughter.Place has been empty since, except for the cleaning crew the club sent in.”

Levi had wandered toward the kitchenette, opening a cabinet cautiously.“There’s food,” he said, surprise evident in his tone.

“Basic supplies,” Saint confirmed.“Enough to get you through a few days.Club took care of it.”

Amelia stood in the middle of the living room, looking lost and overwhelmed.Her fingers twisted the strap of her purse, knuckles white with tension.“I don’t know how to thank you,” she began, voice unsteady.

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