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Wes doesn’t ask what I saw. He only says, “Keep moving.”
We reach the old service branch. A motorcycle lies on its side across the path, engine running but the rider is nowhere. A fresh tire track leaves the trail and climbs the ridge toward the real route.
Hammer knew. Maybe not the exact route or the markers, but enough to place men where Pepper planned to go.
I step over the bike. Two Saints rise from behind the palmetto. The first swings a metal pipe. I block with my forearm and drive my shoulder into his chest.
The second goes for Wes.
Wes fires once into the ground near his feet. “Don’t.”
The man hesitates. That’s all Wes needs. He closes the distance, strips the gun from the man’s hand, and drives him down with an arm across the back of his neck.
The pipe catches me across the shoulder. Pain flashes white. I turn with it and hit the man in the stomach. He drops the pipe. I kick it into the brush as he reaches for a pistol beneath his jacket. I break his wrist before he gets it clear. He screams.
I put him facedown in the mud. “Where’s Hammer?”
The man presses his forehead into the ground and laughs. “Waiting for you.”
Wes cuffs both men. “We’re running out of restraints.”
“Use their belts.”
“Damn, Heron.”
I shrug. “Use what you got.”
We leave them tied together beside the motorcycle.
The old service path narrows. The fog muffles the men’s curses within seconds.
A figure waits beneath a live oak ahead. Hammer stands with his hands loose at his sides. He looks older than the last time I saw him. Gray cuts through his beard. His Saints vest hangs open over a black shirt.
He smiles as if I have arrived for a lesson. “Ironhead.”
The old name lands dead. “No one calls me that.”
“I do.”
“That’s because you don’t listen.”
Wes shifts to my left.
Hammer looks at him. “Never thought I’d see the day when Ironhead brought law.”
“Law came looking for you,” Wes says.
Hammer’s attention returns to me. “Where’s your curvy little scientist?”
My body goes cold. “Keep her out of your mouth.”
He smiles wider. “She’s been here a couple days and already has you wrapped around her finger.”
Pride moves through the fear. Hammer expects the insult to cut, but he doesn’t know shit about love.
“She’s smarter than both of us,” I say.
His expression tightens. “And how is her little plan working out?”
