Free Breaking Hammer (Motorcycle Club Romance) (Inferno Motorcycle Club Book 3) by Sabrina Paige

photos of his wife and newborn, and swallowed hard as I handed his wallet back to him.
    I couldn't look at it for too long.
    Skunk turned as a prospect walked by.  "Prospect," he yelled.
    "Yes, sir," the prospect said.
    "Get this man a fucking beer."
    Skunk slapped my back.  "Let's introduce you to some of the new blood.  It's been a while since you've been here."
    I looked around at the group of p eople gathered in the parking lot of the club building.  It was an open event, so hang-arounds were welcome, people the club was friendly with, people who might be interested in patching eventually.
    Of course, that's basically what I was now, right?  A fucking hang-around.  A nobody.
    I felt a pang of nostalgia, standing there, surrounded by the type of people I used to know.  I wasn't sure if I liked the feeling.
    "Fucking A, man," Ants yelled from across the lot when he saw me.  "I never thought I'd see you again."
    I c ouldn't help but grin.  Ants used to be one of my favorite people, back in the days when we'd do runs down here.  He was a fucking trip- always made me laugh.  Couldn't sit still for a fucking second, hence the nickname- short for "ants in the pants."  The only time he stopped was when he was dead drunk and passed out.  Did the stupidest fucking things in the world, with no sense for self-preservation.  So he was always good for a laugh.
    "Ants ," I said.  "Good to see you, man."
    "You out of retirement?" he asked, bringing a cup of something to his lips.  His cheeks were ruddy, red, and I could tell he was already hosed.
    I shook my head.  "Just came for the entertainment."
    "Fuck yeah, you did," he said.  "We got some fucking entertainment tonight too.  This goddamn stripper, an Asian girl."
    I laughed.  "What's so goddamn special about a stripper?"  We were in Vegas.  Seeing tits wasn't exactly an unusual occurrence.
    "Shit.   Hammer ," he said, gulping from his cup.  "That's what they call you now, you know."
    Skunk interrupted.  "Ants, shut the fuck up."
    "No disrespect, man," Ants said.
    "It's fine," I said.  "Hammer is good.  Better than Meat Pipes."
    Pipes grinned.  "Just got to be careful with you and the sledgehammers."
    "Don't fucking piss me off," I said, grinning, the tension gone now.  "So anyway," I said.  "What's so special about this goddamn stripper?"
    Skunk groaned.  "This is all I've been hearing about from this shithead all week," he said.  "This stripper is legendary before she even fucking gets here.  She's going to show up and be ugly and old, man, tits sagging down to her fucking belly.  I keep telling you."
    "The prospe ct has an in with this," Ants said.  "This isn't a regular strip show."
    “Okay,” I said, looking at the others, who all seemed to be in on some kind of inside joke I wasn’t getting.
    “This chick shoots stuff out of her twat,” Tater said.
    “Fuck.” I grimaced.  “What the fuck is she shooting out of there?  Crabs?”
    “Ping pong balls and stuff,” Ants said.  “They fucking do that shit in Asia somewhere.”
    “In Thailand,” Pipes said.
    “How the hell do you know about that?”
    “I’m fucking cultured, man,” Pipes said.  “Shit, I’ve seen it on the internet.  What the hell do you think?”
    “Wherever the fuck,” Ants said.  “Ping pong balls.  Out of her twat.”
    “That’s...awesome,” I s aid.  I looked at Skunk and he grinned.  Okay, so there was a part of me that missed this life.
    Ping pong balls and all.
    Skunk slapped my back.  "Hammer didn't come for the fucking stripper, you shitheads," he said.  "He came because he wants to fight.  Got him a fucking fight next weekend.  So which one of you assholes is going to practice with him, make sure he's ready?"

ONE WEEK LATER
     
    "What is this place?"  Aston and I walked toward a warehouse of some sort.  Cars lined the parking lot, many foreign and expensive, the kinds of cars you'd see in Beverly Hills, not in a dirt lot in the middle