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A bittersweet smile floated across his lips. “She hasn’t stopped sticking out her tongue at you since.”
True, but he’d never trade one single day of her sassy, adoring ways. Or the joy she’d brought to his life.
As he thumbed through the rest of the photos, he stumbled onto one he’d taken a week or two after she’d first arrived at Shadows. The guarded uncertainty in her expression pained Hammer. Since then, he’d done his best to give Raine sanctuary, chase away her demons, and help her bloom. His girl had come so far. Pride swelled in his chest.
Piling the photos on the bed, he turned and hauled out a big box from her closet. Hammer was surprised to discover a stack of greeting cards. Raine had kept every birthday, graduation, get well, and holiday card he’d ever given her. Gently lifting a brittle, dried rose, he noticed a note tied to the stem by a thin string.
Get well soon. We’re all thinking of you.
Hammer
Raine’s first migraine had been severe and had scared him senseless. Claiming the club members were concerned, he’d bought her a dozen red roses.
He grabbed another photo, this one of him and Raine beneath the mistletoe at Shadows’ annual party two Christmases ago. Eyes closed, she’d tilted her mouth under his. Hammer remembered staring at her sweet, parted lips for a thunderstruck moment, wanting and desperate. Finally, he’d brushed a kiss across her forehead. He hadn’t waited to see her crestfallen face before he had walked away.
Regret hung heavy now. He’d give anything to turn back time to stand beneath that sprig of green, wrap Raine in his arms, and devour her.
Among her treasures, Hammer found a colorful key chain emblazoned with Happy Birthday. He’d given it to her, along with her new car. She’d given him an ear-splitting squeal and wrapped herself around him so tight sometimes he swore he could still feel it. She’d also saved the stubs from the tickets to their first concert together, the plastic cap and tassel she’d stashed off her celebratory cake after passing her GED, and a pair of his old sunglasses she’d adopted one summer.
She’d hoarded each as a silent symbol of her love. And he’d been too mired in his notion that he wasn’t good for her, so he hadn’t given himself permission to love her back.
He’d condemned them both to years of misery. What a fucking fool.
Forcing down his strangling frustration, Macen focused on the box of their past relics. A flash of silver caught his eye, and he pulled a delicate pendant free. The chainless bauble gleamed with a filigreed “R” engraved on the front. On the back, he squinted to read the inscription.
Into every heart my Raine flows
Love, Mom
A lump caught in his throat. He knew almost nothing about Robin Kendall except that she’d been the first—and one of the only people—to give his precious Raine any love as a child. Her demented father had destroyed that. Raine didn’t deserve to have anyone else ripped from her life.
Fight for your family. Bryn’s voice echoed in his head.
Hammer tucked the pendant in his pocket, stashed the photos he’d gathered onto the bed inside the box of mementos, and headed back to his office. After adding all of those keepsakes to his growing stash, he plucked up the thumb drive from his desk and tossed it in, as well.
One last stop.
He made his way down the hall and unlocked the door to the operations room.
A dark head swiveled in his direction. “Hey, Hammer.”
“Lewis.” He nodded. “You’re still keeping six months of video footage for security purposes, right?” At the new guy’s nod, he went on. “Good. Just checking. I need a minute to look something up. How about you take a break?”
“Um…sure.” He frowned. “Back in ten.”
“Perfect.”
As the kid left and the door automatically locked behind him, Macen tore into the top drawer of the filing cabinet and dragged his fingers over the dates labeled on the foam-lined containers holding the backup drives. November first, November second, November fifth.
Panic burst, surged through his veins. November third and fourth were missing.
Were those the videos Detective Perez had mentioned to Raine?
He forced himself to take a deep breath and checked the dates again, searching the other drawers in the cabinet in case the footage had been misfiled. He rifled around the security desk, checked the container of this week’s drives on the wall rack. Nothing.
“Fuck!”
November third held the footage of the public punishment he had orchestrated for Raine with Beck…which had become Liam offering her his training collar and claiming her virgin ass. November fourth, a handful of hours later, showed Hammer drunk and arguing with Raine in the bar—until he’d kissed her with six years of pent-up desperation, ripped off her robe, then tossed her down. Despite her saying no more than once, he’d devoured her pussy until she’d screamed and scratched out a cataclysmic orgasm. Afterward, he’d dragged her to his room and fucked her all night.
