Chapter 2
Chapter Two
The sudden pounding on her door from some very heavy fists made Dom cringe in abject fear, pressing the phone to her ear and tightening her grip on the knife she’d grabbed from her utility drawer.
“Dom?” Marty called her name. “What’s happening? What’s that banging?”
“Someone’s banging on my door and they don’t sound friendly!” she whispered into the phone. Maybe it was someone who wanted their magic hammer back? Maybe it was the guy from the swap meet?
If she owned a talking hammer, she’d sure want it back, too.
“Hello?” Someone banged again. “Miss? My name is Harvey Larsen, and I think you have something of mine.”
There was a raspy sigh, and then the hammer said, “Ah, Harvey’s here. I wondered when he’d show up. Fear not, kaerr. Harvey’s harmless. I promise you. A little misguided, but harmless.”
Dom’s eyes flew open wide as she ran to the other side of her kitchen. “Stop talking to me!” she begged, gripping the handle of the knife until her hand hurt.
The gentle voice, silky in her ears, offered more reassurance. “If you would only listen to me, Dominique, I could help you understand what’s happening.”
Said the serial killer to its victim…
“I don’t want to understand!” she all but screamed, pressing herself against her countertop. “I want you to leave me alone!”
Father God, she was talking to a hammer.
“Hello?” the male voice, strong and deep, called out again.
“Go away!” she yelled at her front door, the one she’d recently painted a soft pink, when there’d been a time she’d done mundane chores like not talking to a hammer.
“Listen, Miss, I can hear you’re frightened, and I promise you, I’m not here to hurt you. I understand why you’re afraid, and I can explain. But I think you have something of mine and that requires a conversation. Could we please talk?”
Then, surprisingly, she heard a recently familiar voice ask, “Who the fuck are you, Big Bird, and what the fuck do you think you’re doing here?”
Nina! The woman sounded like Nina from OOPS.
But…how had she found her? How had she found her townhouse?
“Did you hear me? I said back the fuck off, Sasquatch!”
“Nina!” an unfamiliar, very feminine voice chastised. “How about we ask questions instead of throwing hands when the subject presents as non-threatening?”
Another knock on the door sounded, gentler, less intimidating. “Dom, it’s Marty, honey—”
“And Nina. You know, Niiinaaa—”
“Nina, hush! Dom, listen, it’s Marty, and my other partner in OOPS is here, too. Her name is Wanda. Can you open the door, please? We’re here to help.”
The hammer cleared its throat. “They sound lovely, Dominique. Do open the door. Of the four, I can assure you, Harvey is least likely to harm you. He’s akin to a gentle giant.”
With slow, terrified steps, still clinging to the knife, she continued to ignore the hammer’s advice and tiptoed across her hardwood floor, her hands clammy as she pressed her ear to the door.
“I have a weapon!” she warned them, fighting the wobble in her voice. “If you make one wrong move, I’ll—I’ll—” What, Dom? What exactly will you do? She’d never so much as killed even a fly in her lifetime.
Squaring her shoulders, Dominique narrowed her eyes. But a fly had never threatened her well-being. “I have a weapon and I’ll use it!”
She heard an amused scoff. “Ooo, I hope it’s shiny and sharp. I haven’t had dinner yet,” Nina cackled.
“Dominique? Wanda here. Please open the door. I know you’re afraid, but we’re here to help you. I promise you; we can help.”
She had two choices. Climb out the window and run screaming into the night toward the nearest police station, where she’d tell them all about her talking hammer. Or…she could let the people on the other side of this door into her home.
And possibly die a gruesome death by group homicide.
Suddenly, someone jiggled the doorknob as she backed away and the door came flying open.
Three women entered of varying heights, two of them beautiful and dressed to the nines, and the third, surely one of the most flawlessly perfect women she’d ever seen—on TV or in the movies or ever—wearing a dark hoodie, jeans, work boots and shirt that read: I Almost Gave a Fuck. Scared The Shit Out of Myself.
Behind them stood a towering hulk of a man, who she assumed was Harvey.
Wow.
Wow-wow. Harvey wasn’t only enormous, he was insanely good-looking. Blond, chiseled, bulky in all the right places, with thick thighs bunching his jeans and biceps pushing against a plaid flannel jacket.
Dom gulped. Now felt like the wrong moment to make note of something as superficial as how incredibly, ruggedly, gorgeously, fantastically handsome this man was, but it was hard to deny. In fact, his good looks almost made her gasp.
Fletcher, obviously sensing her fear, flew high up into her cathedral ceilings before swooping down and aiming for Nina—whose hand shot in the air just as he dove for the top of her head.
She snatched him out of the air so quickly, Dom barely had time to blink.
“No!” she cried. “Please don’t hurt him!”
Nina, and she somehow just knew this flawless woman was Nina, held Fletcher in her hand, curling her fingers around his small body.
She looked him directly in the eye. “Would you look at you, buddy? Boy or girl?” she asked, as she gazed at Fletcher until he calmed in her hand, then she opened her palm, letting him settle in.
Licking her lips, Dom stared at their interaction in awe. Fletcher was protective for a creature so tiny, and he didn’t warm easily to strangers—just ask her last boyfriend, Amon.
She’d found Fletcher on a back road when she’d been investigating nursing homes for her grandfather, entangled in a plastic six-pack soda wrap, his tiny feet struggling to get free as he frantically called out in distress.
Carefully, she’d disentangled him, but his foot was injured, and she knew from watching countless YouTube videos he’d never survive in the wild.
So she’d taken him to the vet, had him patched up with a splint, and during his healing process, they’d bonded—in a way that hadn’t only surprised her, but delighted her.
They’d been together for three years now, through the ups and downs with her grandfather’s debilitating health, and the loneliness and guilt she’d suffered, putting him in memory care.
He’d been there after a life-altering experience that had changed her entire world.
Fletcher had been there, loyal, goofy, steadfast.
As nutty as it sounded, he’d become her touchstone. He made every day bearable since she’d transferred her grandfather to memory care.
“Hey?” Nina nudged her as Fletcher rubbed his head against her cheek. “Boy or girl?” she repeated.
“Boy,” she mumbled, clinging tighter to the knife. “His name’s Fletcher.”
Suddenly, this amazingly perfect creature grinned. A smile so glorious, so full of straight white teeth and full, naturally red lips, it almost left Dom breathless.
She ran a gentle finger down along Fletcher’s breast. “Aw, hey, Fletch, I’m Nina. Aren’t you a handsome guy. So shiny. Who does your feathers?”
Fletcher’s beady black eyes locked with this stranger’s in genuine interest. With, dare she say, warmth? He curled his head into her raised fingers and made a soft cooing noise.
“Look at how nice this sweet, sweet boy is,” she said softly, her ember eyes warm. “Do you have treats? Show Auntie Nina where they are and I’ll get you some, huh?”
Fletcher hopped off her hand and took flight to the cabinet where Dom kept his favorite unsalted peanuts, tapping at the door with his beak.
Nina didn’t bother to ask permission, she went and opened the cabinet, located the peanuts, popped the can’s top, and poured a couple into her hand.
Fletcher pecked at them, grabbing one with his beak, then hopped to Nina’s shoulder to press the nut to her lips, the same way he did with Dom.
This beautiful creature took the peanut from him and praised him, lavishing the bird with affection by rubbing her cheek against the top of his head. “Who’s so smart?”
Fletcher, her ride or die, looked into Nina’s eyes and preened. Preened.
Dom set the phone down on her countertop, her mouth falling open, forgetting she had the knife, forgetting there were beautiful strangers standing in her small living room. “I’ve never seen him behave like that with anyone but me. He’s…he’s usually so skittish with new people…”
A gorgeous blonde, dressed in a burnt-orange flared skirt with a wide belt, the collar of her chocolate-brown shirt turned up under her tan denim shrug, gold and silver bangle bracelets lining her arms, held out her hand with a warm smile, offering it to Dom.
“I’m Marty Flaherty. And all animals, friend or foe, love Nina. You’ll get used to it.”
Get used to it? How long did these people plan to stay? Getting used to something meant spending lots of time together—like getting a bad haircut or bangs. You got used to them…
“I’m Wanda Jefferson,” an elegant woman in a sophisticated pair of pleated navy trousers and a white silky shirt beneath her trench coat, her hair in a smooth updo, introduced herself. “And I’ll take that, thank you kindly.” She snatched the knife from Dom’s hand so fast, it made her head spin.
“And I’m Harvey Larsen,” the guy who’d fallen off a Brawny paper towel package said, extending his wide, tanned hand to her.
But Dom was too afraid to take it. Instead, she swallowed hard and tried to put her brave pants on.
She pointed to the hammer, glowing under her kitchen lights. “That’s yours?”
He smiled then, so suddenly it caught her completely off guard.
Not only because it was unexpected, but because it was so warm and genuine, the grooves on either side of his mouth deepening when his lips lifted.
“I’m more like its babysitter. I’m sorry if you were frightened by its sudden appearance. It has a way of escaping my clutches.”
“It?” the hammer jeered in a cultured voice. “Oh, Harvey, I’m so disappointed in you. I have a name, young man, and you know that to be true. Address me as such.”
Harvey leaned his large body down, eyeing the hammer with what Dom might label begrudging affection. “You do have a name, Mjolnir.”
“Hold the fuck on,” Nina growled, holding up a finger as she set Fletcher on the kitchen counter and came to stand in front of Harvey. “You mean like Thor’s hammer, Mjolnir? Like in the Marvel movies? That Thor’s hammer?”
Harvey rasped a sigh, running a hand through his shiny chin-length hair.
“This wasn’t the way I was going to go about explaining this.
I’d planned on a more delicate entry to the bigger conversation, but yes.
This,” he pointed at the battered silver hammer, “is Thor’s hammer.
But we affectionately call him MC Hammer. ”
MC balked with loud affront. “Can you imagine? A specimen such as myself, capable of fierce acts of power, with a nickname like MC Hammer? It’s outrageous! An egregious disrespect to my centuries-old existence!”
“You have to admit, buddy, it kinda fits. ‘Can’t Touch This’ and all,” Harvey teased.
Dom didn’t understand the inside joke, but Marty must have, because she burst into a fit of giggles, her long blonde hair falling down her back as she chuckled. “MC Hammer? Oh, that’s priceless!”
Wanda, who had to stifle her snicker, reached out a hand to grasp Marty’s. “Stop,” she pleaded with a bubble of laughter. “We’re being unprofessional.”
Dom, now utterly panicked, looked at these people as though they’d all been gifted a group day pass from a psychiatric facility.
“Thor’s hammer?” she crowed, her voice bordering on hysterical.
“Are you all mad? Do you understand how insane you all sound, laughing at a hammer that talks—talks!—with the nickname of an ’80s rapper, that this giraffe of a man claims is Thor’s hammer.
The Thor, from Norse mythology, as though this is an everyday occurrence? ”
The room fell silent until Nina let out a long sigh, grabbing Dom’s hand. “Let me fucking show you why we don’t think a wisecracking hammer is a big damn deal.”
Dom tried to pull away, but this woman’s grip was made of steel.
“Relax,” Nina ordered. “It’ll all be over in like fucking two seconds.
You’ll melt down, these two ninnies will make you something warm to soothe your upset tummy, they’ll hug you and give you sympathy, cover your cold-from-fear feet with a blanket, and then we’ll get to the business of figuring this shit out. ”
Dom’s heart began to pound so hard in her chest, she thought she’d have a heart attack.
Fear coiled in her belly when Marty yelped, “Nina, no! Wait!”
But Nina didn’t, in fact, wait.
She, in fact, went full-steam ahead.