Hammer didn’t even want to look at him. “Go whip a sub.”
“Nah. I’m having far more fun with a masochist right now.”
Beck meant him, and Hammer wanted to punch the asshole. But he’d probably psychoanalyze that need, too. “I’m not in the mood for this.”
“But you’re in the mood to masturbate?” Beck sent him a sly glance. “Are you beating your meat so hard because it owes you money?”
“Are you giving up the medical field so you can take this act to The Improv?”
“Raine would give it to you for free, you know.”
Macen nearly lost his temper. “Get your thoughts out of my sub’s pussy.”
“Believe it or not, I’m worried about you. When was the last time you took a night off?”
Hammer didn’t need Beck dabbling in his life right now, even if his old pal was right.
“Most every Sunday. But it’s a busy Friday night, and I have a club to run. Thanks for stopping by.” Macen gestured him to the door.
“It’s so busy you have time for self-love. Got it.” The stare Beck shot him said to get real. “Go home. You’ve got a competent staff. The place practically runs itself. I’ll watch over everyone and call if there’s a problem.”
Why should he go home and torture himself with what he shouldn’t have?
Goddamn it. The soothing serenity he’d felt when Raine had first come into his life was long gone. Of course, back then, he’d done a pretty good job of protecting her. But once Liam had come from New York and forced him to see her as a woman, Hammer’s long-tested restraint had torn off its leash. He and his best friend had fought like snarling dogs to claim her…before they’d realized they should put her between them. Together, they had turned her life upside down.
They had gotten her pregnant.
And they had unwittingly roused the monster who had nearly taken her life. When Raine had needed him most, Hammer hadn’t been there to save her. He would never forgive himself for that.
“I can’t,” he finally admitted.
“Liam’s text says you can. Go. Sandwich the princess between you two.”
He didn’t take orders from Beck—or anyone. Still, the video of Raine’s legs spread open in invitation for him to drown inside her was burned deep in his psyche. Hammer didn’t want his hand. He wanted her.
“Fine.” He sighed. “I’ll cut out early. You have a key to lock up?”
Beck patted his pants pocket. “Right here.”
“Thanks.”
With a sly smile, the sadist bumped his shoulder. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“So basically, anything goes. Got it.” Macen sighed. “And thanks.”
“I’m sure you’ll be happy to kick my ass if I ever need it.” With a wave, Beck headed for the door, closing it softly behind him.
After tossing on some clothes and combing out his hair, Macen pushed his way out the building and jogged for his Audi, jingling his keys in his pocket. He was going to go home, hold Raine, and talk to the two people he loved most. Somehow, he was going to fix whatever was wrong between them because he was tired of fighting the ghosts lingering in the dungeon, haunting his life.
Halfway across the parking lot, he glanced over his shoulder to make sure the door had shut behind him. His gaze snagged on the camera in the alcove—the one that had captured Bill Kendall’s snarling face when he’d tased Raine and dragged her away to her near death.
Just like that, the ghosts swarmed Hammer again.
He jerked his car door open and revved the engine. He tried to picture Raine waiting for him at home, wearing those panties…and nothing else. He strained to imagine him and Liam enveloping their woman together for the first time in months and blowing her precious mind.
Tires screeching, Hammer tore out of the lot. One of the last times he’d squealed away from Shadows, he’d been frantically searching for Raine after he’d realized she was in her father’s clutches. A memory of the fucker’s maniacal grin stabbed its way through his brain. The array of implements he’d spread out in order to torture Raine in that fucking warehouse hit next, obliterating every thought except murdering a man who was already dead.
Hammer’s heart thudded. With one fist, he gripped the steering wheel. With the other, he punched the dashboard. When would he be able to chase these ghosts away?
Maybe never.
That thought terrified him.
Fuck, he couldn’t go home to Raine and Liam half-hinged. He’d be a liability, a loose cannon. He had to get his shit wired tight.
Because if he didn’t, Hammer already knew his ghosts would follow him home.
Saturday, February 9
Liam rolled over and spooned Raine in the big bed they shared to calm her restless dozing. He stared at the clock. Two thirty-four a.m. The other familiar body who should be surrounding Raine—and taking more than his third of the mattress—was disturbingly absent. Again.