Page 92

“I thought I'd feel different,” she said.

“Different how?” he asked.

“Like seeing him helpless would fix something,” she said.

“It doesn't?” Hammer asked.

“No,” she breathed. She watched Razor disappear inside. “I don't want revenge anymore.”

Jackhammer understood. “What do you want?”

Angel thought about it. “An ending.”

He squeezed her hand. “Then let's get you one.”

Three hours later, the clubhouse was quieter. Razor was secured downstairs. Bishop had contacted an attorney he trusted outside the network, and copies of Elena's ledger were being prepared for multiple agencies. Monster insisted nothing went to one place. Jackhammer agreed because there were too many names and too many old connections. The original ledger was locked inside Monster's safe, for now. Crow was getting patched up while Angel showered. Ghost had disappeared downstairs to check security, and Jackhammer sat on the edge of his bed staring at Angel's duffel. It was still packed, and the damn thing bothered him more than it should have.

The bathroom door opened, and Angel stepped out wearing jeans and one of Jackhammer's T-shirts. He stared at her, and she looked down at her body. “What?”

“That's mine,” he whispered.

“Ghost gave it to me,” she said.

“Of course he did,” Hammer grumbled.

“Want it back?” she asked.

“No,” he said.

“Then stop staring,” she insisted.

“Can't.” Angel rolled her eyes and walked toward the bed. Jackhammer looked at the duffel again and scowled.

She noticed. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he whispered.

“Hammer,” she said.

He pointed at the bag. “That.”

“My bag?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said.

“What about it?” she questioned.

“You still haven't unpacked,” he reminded. Her expression changed, and she put her walls back in place. Jackhammer hated that fucking wall, but this time he didn't try to bulldoze through it. “You said that this was temporary,” he reminded.

“It was,” she said.

“Was?” he asked.

Angel folded her arms. “I don't know.”

He nodded. “Okay.”

She frowned. “Okay?”