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I’m sitting at the bar, and Jada’s upstairs. She told me she wanted to take a hot shower, so I’m down here having a drink. My mind keeps replaying everything that’s happened over the last few days, and the more I think about the series of events, the more I get frustrated. Could we have stopped them from coming into the club? Should we have had people posted at the door? There are so many what-ifs running through my mind, but I know it has to be worse for Hammer. His child’s the one still at the hospital, and she’ll likely be there for a couple more weeks. He’s been telling us how she has some sort of physical therapy she’s already started. I don’t pay too much attention to the details because there are so many other things on my mind.
I’m supposed to be meeting with one of Otis’ contacts in a couple of days. His name’s José, and I’m told Jose can help me get access to information I want, such as other traffickers higher up the ladder.
I take a sip of my drink, and my mind continues to mull around. I’ll always wonder what we could’ve done differently to avoid bloodshed, but the fact of the matter is that if we had let Celia live, the blood might not have been spilled in the first place. I don’t blame Breaker for what he did. Not in the least bit. I would’ve likely done the same if I had been betrayed in such a way. The 17 crossed the line when they sent Celia here, and the cartels associated with them as well.
Ops’ woman, Mabel, is tied to the Castro cartel . . . but she’s been pretty much disowned since she’s chosen to stay with Ops. Her father won’t help her, or us by extension. We’re left to deal with this mess ourselves, and at the end of the day, I know we’ll handle it however we need to. All I can hope for is that no one else we love gets hurt in the process.
“You want another?” Archer asks as he makes his way down the bar, checking on club members and patrons.
I shake my head. “No, but thank you.”
Between the attack on the club, doing the shit I do on the side, and my growing . . . whatever I’m doing with Jada, I’m spent. We’re still keeping it a secret from everyone, and I’m all right with that, but she’s made a couple of remarks to me that she wants to stay in Los Angeles . . . so could this turn into something different? I think so.
I think I could end up wanting to be with her long term, and the more I think about it, the more I can see her being my ol’ lady. She’s dropped a couple hints that she doesn’t want to keep lying to her brother or rather hiding us. I haven’t told her not to speak to Hammer because the fact of the matter is I don’t want to hide her. She deserves a man who will walk in the light with her, and I want to be that man.
All I can hope for is that she doesn’t change her mind about staying here in Los Angeles.
CHAPTERELEVEN
Jada
This is about to be the most nerve-wracking conversation I’m ever going to have in my life.
It’s time to end all the secrets and sneaking around. I’m too old to be doing this, and the more that it happens, the more I feel like I’m double-crossing my brother because I know I’m only doing it because I feel like he wouldn’t approve.
These feelings that I have for Armor aren’t going away. In fact, they only seem to be getting stronger. After all that’s happened over the past few days, I don’t need to be concerned about Hammer worrying about me. He deserves to have all of his attention focused on Oakleigh and Shiloh.
I know for him to do that, I need to come clean about what’s really going on with Armor and me.
Hammer and Shiloh are supposed to be on their way back from the store, picking up a few more things for Oakleigh. I pace back and forth in front of the doorway to catch him before I lose my nerve. If I have to wait for tomorrow or even later today, I don’t know if I’m going to be able to go through with it.
My heart stops and then skips a few beats when I hear Hammer’s truck pull up in the alleyway.
It’s now or never.
I grab hold of the door and walk out in clear sight where he can see me. The minute he steps out of the car and sees me standing there, his expression drops into a scowl.
“What’s going on? Is everything okay?”
“Yes, everything is fine. I need to talk to you,” I tell him and cross my hands over my chest. I squeeze onto my own biceps, trying to draw strength from anywhere inside myself. I wish Armor was here right now with me, but I’m not doing this for his permission. I’m doing this for myself.
Hammer’s eyebrows furrow as he comes closer to me, the bags in his hands and Shiloh at his side.
“Okay, give me a few minutes to put this stuff down, and we’ll talk,” he says, and I shake my head no before I step in front of him. “No, I need to talk to you now. It’s important,” I tell him, and Shiloh reaches over for the bags.
“Go on, you two chat. I’ll take these inside.”
I worry for a second that the bags might be heavy, and she shouldn’t be carrying them, but she’s already gone before I can say anything to her.
“Okay, you got me out here alone. What’s so important that it couldn’t wait a few minutes?”
I had an entire speech planned for him, but now that he’s standing right in front of me, I can’t think of anything I wanted to say besides the fact that Armor and I are together.
I start with the few things I know the answers to. Hopefully, that will put him on a path where he has no choice but to see that everything will be okay with my choices.
“Hammer, do you trust this club with your life?”
“What the fuck? What kind of fucking question is that?” he asks, instantly getting his feathers all ruffled.
