Hammer (Heartlands Motorcycle Club #9) - Dani Wyatt Page 0,15
them on the line before they start to smell.”
“Robin.” He grabs my arm as I lift my basket and try to head to the door. “I want to take you to dinner. Tonight.”
“I can’t.” I twist my arm from his hand. “I have research for a case. Thanks for the drinks. I really need to go.”
“No,” he barks, and I shoot him a glare.
“I told you what this was. You also said you would never force me. Well, I want to go and I’m going.”
I spin and march toward the door. My heart is hammering in my chest and I do everything I can to get to the door without turning around.
This is not for you. This is not what you want. He is not what you want. You have plans, he probably has an arrest record.
I hate that in such a short time he made me feel something. I should have known. Why else would he know he could get into that back room? He’s used it before, and he had no problem saying we should just forget it ever happened.
Stay the course, Robin. Seneca—and certainly Rob, Robin, Hammer, whatever his name is—are just brief distractions on your way to where you want to be.
Don’t fuck it up.
Chapter 8
Hammer
“Robin’s not here, I’m afraid.” Her uncle looks me up and down like he’s wondering how I know her name, and I don’t blame him. As far as I’m concerned, the fact he’s cautious about me is a good thing. I respect him for looking out for her. “Can I help with anything?”
I shake my head. “Robin was recommended to me. I don’t really want anyone else to deal with this. Besides,” I add, “she’s already started taking a look into things for me, sort of got a head start.”
He frowns. “Haven’t seen you around here before.”
“No. We know each other outside work.”
“And what sort of work is it that you do, Mister…?”
“Just Hammer...stein. I’m an engineer.”
It’s not really even a lie. After all, I do take on engineering work and fixing all kinds of shit for cash in hand. I wouldn’t exactly call it a job, since I don’t pay taxes or have any permits or anything, but it is work.
“Hammerstein? Like the musicals?”
I nod. “Exactly. Everyone calls me Hammer.”
He seems to buy the lie easily. “Well, I can tell Robin you stopped by when she gets here. But she has court this morning, so I’m not sure when that will be.”
“Fuck, of course, those trumped up fucking charges against Leonard Graves.” That explains why she wasn’t at her house when I stopped by before I came here.
When she said I was a fucking creeper, she wasn’t off the mark at all. I know her schedule, I know her cases and I know where she’s supposed to be at every moment of every day. There I was, panicking that she wasn’t where she should be, and all the time it was me who was in the wrong place. Should have gone to the courthouse and found her before the case started, but it would be too fucking late now.
Fuck.
Her uncle narrows his eyes at me. “You know Leonard?”
No. I just make it my business to know everything about your niece. “Yeah, Leonard’s a good guy. That cop set him up.” That, at least, is true. I looked into the details after I found out she was going to be representing him. I’m no lawyer, but I know people who know people who can find out the truth about pretty much anything that goes on around here.
“Well, that’s what we’re hoping to prove. Don’t worry, Robin’s good at her job and the evidence that fell in our laps about this case should be more than enough to convince a courtroom.”
I know. Because I gave them the evidence.
“I’ll let her know you stopped by, shall I?”
“Sure. Here’s my number.” I scribble the name, Hammer, on a piece of paper on his desk, then add my cell number underneath. “I’ll be waiting for her to call.”
He frowns at the paper as he picks it up. “Any first name?”
I shake my head as I turn and head for the door. “Just Hammer. She knows who I am.”
“Fuck off,” I say to Chain as he makes a lewd gesture with his beer bottle, taking a little longer to lick around the rim before knocking back a big gulp.
They all know about what happened last night. And that means fucking Luann blabbed. I’d try to be