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“And then what?” Hammer spit. “Let the prosecution burn the scarlet letter A into the middle of her forehead? Raine… you… me… We’ll all be on the cover of every fucking rag from here to New York. They’ll label you a pervert and me a pedophile. Raine will get the distinguished honor of being known as a sex slave for the rest of her life. And what about our baby? It won’t matter what his last name is—Hammerman, O’Neill, or Kendall—our child will carry the humiliation of this whole fucking mess the rest of his or her life. Do you want that?”
Liam’s eyes grew wide as he bolted up from his chair. “No. Oh, hell no, Macen. You can’t.”
“Can’t what?” he spat.
“Can’t go through with what you’re thinking about. Bloody hell, man. Have you lost your fucking mind?”
Hammer’s mouth gaped open. “How do you… Bryn!”
“It’s not my mother, mate.” Fury flashed in Liam’s eyes as he inched in close to Hammer’s face. “You don’t get it. I can fucking see you. Your thoughts are like a goddamn sign, all lit up and flashing neon in my fucking face. So don’t tell me you’re fine, Macen. I’m gut sick with worry. Don’t you dare think to leave me here alone.”
Hammer slammed his bottle on the table, curled his fingers into fists, and punched him in the jaw. “Get out of my head. I didn’t invite you to dissect me before, and I’m sure as hell not letting you read my goddamn thoughts.”
Liam raised a hand to his face and rubbed it. “So we’re back to this now, are we? Bring it on, mate. I’ll toss your fucking ass in the pool and piss myself laughing.”
Without a word, Hammer drew his hand back again, but Liam was faster. He shoved a fist in Macen’s gut, knocking the wind out of him.
“Do you want to keep going or are you ready to sit down and talk, you big, stupid bastard?” Liam spat.
“Fuck you.”
“Yeah, yeah. Fuck yourself.” Liam shook his head. “We can spend the afternoon knockin’ each other’s blocks off, which will have Raine packing her bags. At least one of your problems will be solved then, right? Or you can stop eating your testoster-oats and use your head.”
“Testoster-oats?” Hammer couldn’t help but laugh.
Liam grinned. “Got your attention, didn’t it?”
“Goddamn you.” Hammer sighed as his face crumpled and all his tension piled up. “What am I going to do?”
Before he even tried to pull himself together, Liam wrapped him in a hug. “You’re not going to do a bloody damn thing except ride this out with the rest of us. Do you hear me?”
Hammer sucked in a deep breath. He could only promise to try.
“This shit storm will pass. I have to believe the three of us will survive, and when it’s over, we’ll still be intact. According to Seth, our life’s a fucking soap opera, and these bloody dramas always get resolved somehow.”
Hammer nodded, but he wondered if their luck had just run out.
“I need you, brother. And you need me. You may not think you do, but—”
“I’ve needed you for years.” Hammer sighed. “I was just too fucking stubborn to admit it.”
“It’s never too late to figure things out, mate. I’m glad you did.”
“Yeah, well… some of us are slower to grasp the importance of shit than others.” Hammer slapped Liam on the back. “I want you and Raine to sign the powers of attorney I showed you the other night.”
“Did you not hear my fucking words?” Liam pulled back with a scowl.
“I did. But I want to be prepared, just in case.”
“I understand you needing to get your affairs in order, but… hell. We’ll talk this over with Raine tonight. She has just as much right to help make decisions. We’re a family.”
“I know. Just…it would ease my mind if you’d both sign.”
“I’ll consider it. And I’ll be bringing the shit shovel to that talk. You can explain that you refused to let her testify.”
Hammer let out a long-suffering groan.
Liam looked out over the pool, a wry smile tugging the corners of his mouth. “Maybe she’ll just march you down here and make you go for another icy swim.”
Hammer threw his head back and laughed. “Fuck you.”
Lying in bed, Hammer stared at the ceiling while Sterling’s message played over in his head on an endless loop. After he’d seen the footage of Macen and Raine’s encounter in the bar at Shadows, the lawyer had sounded horrified. While everything with her had been consensual, the video obviously didn’t depict that. No matter which way he turned, the only one who could save his sorry ass was Raine.
Macen clenched his jaw at the thought of throwing her under the bus. He wasn’t going to humiliate his pregnant, stressed-out girl by having her explain the pictures of her beaten and bruised for a federal jury. If the state took over, she’d have to defend each frame of that damn video footage to a dozen strangers who would decide his fate. In either case, the prosecution would destroy every shred of self-confidence she possessed. The press had already painted her as a sex worker and whore. The suits who wanted him locked up would, no doubt, brand her a trashy unwed mother, too. The news and tabloids would print every lurid detail they could get their hands on. She wouldn’t have a normal life anymore, and what would that do to her? Liam? Their baby?
