Page 46 of Hammer

Chase nodded his agreement, though his eyes held questions he wouldn’t voice in front of his brother.He knew something was up -- he always did.“Hammer already left,” he informed me.“Said he had to help set up.”

Of course he had.The man had been finding excuses to avoid me since our kiss in the kitchen.Well, tonight that would change.

The walk to the clubhouse took less than five minutes, but with each step, my pulse quickened.Music spilled into the night air as we approached.Not the pounding bass that had characterized Devil’s Minions parties, but something more classic rock, at a volume that still allowed for conversation.The scent of grilled meat and cigarette smoke mingled in the warm evening air.

“Stay close,” I told the boys as we reached the entrance.It was an old habit, one born from years of navigating Piston’s volatile gatherings.

Chase shot me a look.“We’re not babies, Mom.”

“Humor me,” I replied, squeezing his arm gently.

The scene that greeted us inside the clubhouse was nothing like the Devil’s Minions’ gatherings I’d endured.No women dancing on tables, no men so drunk they could barely stand, no dark corners where questionable substances changed hands.Instead, groups clustered around tables, some playing cards, others engaged in conversation.A dartboard occupied one wall, with several members taking turns, cheering good shots and heckling bad ones.The bar was well-stocked but not the center of activity.Most importantly, I didn’t see a single woman who looked uncomfortable or trapped.

What struck me most was the watchfulness in the room.Each man seemed aware of his surroundings, gazes regularly scanning the entrances, noting who came and went.But it wasn’t the paranoid, aggressive surveillance of the Minions.This felt protective, alert -- men watching their brothers’ backs, not watching for threats to their egos.

Aura hugged me, whispering, “He hasn’t shown up yet.Perfect timing.”Then louder, “Boys, Theo’s by the pool table.I think he’s been waiting for you.”

Chase hesitated, glancing at me.I nodded, and he and Levi moved cautiously toward the back of the room, sticking close together.

“You look hot,” Aura announced, stepping back to appraise me.“Dad’s gonna lose his mind.”

I fidgeted with my top.“I feel ridiculous.”

“You look confident,” she corrected.“And sexy.Two things my dad is absolutely going to notice.”

Before I could respond, a commanding presence approached from my left.He stood just over six feet, with a silver-streaked beard and hair, his leather cut adorned with patches that spoke of decades of membership.His eyes -- keen and assessing -- took my measure in a single glance.

“You must be Amelia,” he said, his deep voice carrying easily over the music.“Hammer’s old lady.”

I straightened, meeting his gaze directly.“I am.”

His weathered face broke into a surprising smile.“Venom,” he introduced himself.“And this is my wife, Ridley.”

A petite blonde woman stepped forward, her blue eyes sparkling with genuine warmth.Though she couldn’t have been more than five-foot-four, she carried herself with an authority that made her seem taller.

“About damn time we met you properly,” Ridley said, linking her arm through mine as if we were old friends.“Hammer’s been keeping you all to himself.”

I glanced at Aura, who winked before melting back into the crowd.“He’s been… protective,” I managed, the half-truth sticking in my throat.

Ridley laughed, the sound rich and genuine.“That’s one word for it.Come on, honey.Let me introduce you to everyone while that stubborn man of yours is still busy out back.”

Venom nodded his approval, and Ridley guided me deeper into the clubhouse, her grip on my arm both friendly and firm.I couldn’t help but compare her confident touch to the bruising way Piston had always dragged me around Minions’ gatherings, parading me like a trophy one minute, ignoring me the next.

“That’s Saint’s old lady, Sofia,” Ridley said, nodding toward a tall brunette who waved from her position at the bar.“She makes the best damn margaritas you’ll ever taste.And the woman by the pool table is Tank’s wife, Emmie.”

As we moved through the room, I collected names and snippets of information -- Delphine, married to Rocket; Isabella, Torch’s wife; Amity, Thunder’s woman.I’d remembered someone mentioning Amity was Hammer’s granddaughter.Each woman greeted me with curious but welcoming eyes, so different from the cold assessment or outright hostility I’d experienced from the Minions’ women.

“The first thing you need to know,” Ridley said, handing me a beer from a cooler, “is that we stick together.Old ladies look out for each other.Any problem with your man, any issue at all, you can come to any of us.”

I took a sip, trying not to show my surprise.“Even if the problem is with your husband?”

“Especially then,” she replied without hesitation.“The men have their brotherhood, their patches, their codes.We have our own circle.Sometimes they need reminding that we’re partners, not possessions.”

“The Minions didn’t operate that way,” I admitted quietly.“Women were… commodities.”

Ridley’s expression hardened.“Hammer told Venom about your ex.Just enough for us to understand.”She squeezed my arm.“That shit doesn’t fly here, honey.These men are alpha as they come, but they know the difference between protection and possession.”

As if to illustrate her point, I watched as Tank lifted his wife’s feet onto his lap when she sat beside him, massaging her ankles without being asked.Nearby, Saint listened intently to something Sofia was saying, his focus entirely on her despite the activity around them.

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