CHAPTER EIGHT

When he made it outside of the courthouse, he was surprised to see Amelia standing nearby. Out in the open like that. And it annoyed Hammer. He and Millie's brothers had to pull every single clandestine security detail they had on her because her gangster ass would always sniff them out and then perform dangerous driving maneuvers to lose them. But Hammer kept trying. He wanted her protected. He even tried air support security on her once, even though he knew that was unsustainable. And even before he realized it, Amelia has sniffed that out too. She told him and her brothers in no uncertain terms that she was her own protection. No security detail could look out for her the way she looked out for herself. "Cut that shit out, Hammer," she told him. "For real though. I can take care of myself."

He knew she could too. She never seemed to understand that it wasn't about what she could or couldn't do. It was about what he wanted to do for her. But that was yet another problem in their relationship: they never seemed to be on the same page about squat.

That was why he hesitated before going over to her. He didn't want to go over there. He knew it was going to be another big argument because that was what they did. But despite her wishes to be rid of him, he wasn't gone yet. She was still his wife. He still had papers on her ass. He went over anyway.

"What are you waiting out here for?" he asked her.

As soon as he stood beside her, those butterflies started acting up inside of her again. Just that easily. She didn't even want to answer him. Didn't he realize how difficult this process was for her? Why didn't' he just leave her alone?

But she looked into his icy blue eyes, saw concern beneath that ice, and answered him. "My car broke down. The dealer was supposed to have a loaner waiting for me. They're supposed to be on their way."

Hammer gave a half-second ha sound. "Wait on that," he said. Then he looked at her. Why was he even bothering? Then he exhaled. "Let's go," he said, and without waiting for her response, he began walking toward his waiting limousine.

Amelia could have let his ass keep on walking. Who did he think he was? But watching his big, fine body walking away, and remembering what that body used to do to her, made those butterflies intensify. She had a weakness for Hammer. She always had. Probably always would, damn him!

But she really didn't feel like waiting for some ride to show up. She had work to do. That was the reason she told herself when she walked over to the limo. He held the door open for her as Ozzie and another man, undoubtedly a Secret Service agent responsible for Hammer's security, stood near the door too.

"Hey Ozzie," Amelia said as she and he hugged each other. Ozzie liked her. She was a good woman. But she knew and he knew that when the chips were down, the way they were now, he was going to be loyal to Hammer.

She got in the limo, Hammer got in beside her, and Ozzie closed the door.

That soft elevator music Hammer loved was playing on the car's stereo system as Ozzie got behind the wheel and the agent got on the front passenger seat beside him.

"Where to, Millie?" Ozzie asked her.

"My office," she said.

"Your office it is," Ozzie said and drove them away.

The ride was quiet. Hammer sat on one side of the limo while Amelia sat on the other side of that same back seat. When she wasn't looking, Hammer would take peeps at her. When he wasn't looking, she would take peeps at him. But both of them just mainly looked out of their respective windows and watched the beauty and ugliness of Baltimore pass them by.

Until more songs came and went over the stereo system and then Johnny Mathis and Deniece Williams came on singing the Nat Kipner/John Vallins-penned Too Much, Too Little, Too Late, and both of them felt every word to the depths of their souls:

"Guess it's over.

Call it a day.

Sorry that it had to end this way.

No reason to pretend.

We knew it had to end someday.

This way.

Guess it's over.

The kicks are gone.

What's the use of trying to hang on?

Somewhere we lost the key.

So little left for you and me.

And it's clear to see.

Too much, too little, too late

to lie again with you.

Too much, too little, too late

to try again with you.

We're in the middle of ending something that we knew.

And it's over.

It's ooo-ver."

The song haunted both of them with equal anguish. And for the first time they took a peep at each other when they both were looking. Despite the never-ending rumors that he had a woman in every port. Despite the nasty gossip that declared he told friends he was glad she filed for divorce. None of it was true. She was the love of his life. No other woman compared. He loved Amelia.

But if he loved her so much, how did he allow it to come to this?

"Too much, too little, too late,

to ever try again.

Too much, too little, too late,

let's end it being friends.

Too much, too little, too late,

we knew it had to end.

And it's over.

It's ooo-ver!"

It was like riding to a funeral. Their own funeral! And neither liked the feeling.

It felt like compassion when Ozzie finally drove up to Amelia's office and Hammer got out and held the door as she got out and brushed past him. She looked into his eyes and he looked into her eyes as she brushed by, and it hurt so bad that it shook them. And he did something odd. He placed his hand inside her open, red, full-length cashmere coat and placed his hand around her waist as he walked her to the door of her one-story building. Her butterflies were going haywire when he touched her that way. It had been months since he touched her that way.

Hammer was feeling the heat too. But what did it really mean? And why in the world was he even touching her in that possessive way as if she still belonged to him? What game was he playing at?

If it was a game, they were playing for keeps now. And they had to face facts: It was dead. It was gone. It was over. Full stop.

Hammer opened the door of her office building for her.

"Thank you," she said in a voice that nearly cracked. But she held it together as she brushed past him again and entered her office.

She looked back at him just as he was looking at her. Then he began heading back to his waiting limousine.

"You okay?" asked Dak, who was standing at the reception desk holding a case file. He'd seen from the window how Hammer had placed his hand around her waist.

"I'm good," she said in a voice that disputed that, and then made her way to her office all the way to the back end of a long hall. As soon as she closed her office door, she laid against the door and broke down. She couldn't hold on a second long. And she sobbed uncontrollably. It felt like she was dying. It felt like a death. And she couldn't stop herself from grieving.