Viper (Hell's Handlers MC Book 9)

by Lilly Atlas

  Marco made her bleed.

  Viper’s nostril’s flared. Now he understood why a bull charged when taunted. Fucking rage. Marco had signed his own death warrant. With a near roar, Viper barreled toward the man holding his woman until Marco picked up a half-full liquor bottle with his free hand. He smashed the bottle on the bar top.

  The sound of shattering glass cut through all the noise in the bar, rendering everyone mute.

  Then he brought the jagged edge of the bottle’s neck to Cassie’s throat. Viper watched it happen as though in slow motion. He skidded to a dead stop two feet out from the bar.

  “Everyone shut the fuck up,” Marco roared as murmurs kicked up in the bar. “I said shut the fuck up.” Complete and total silence fell. “Tell me why I shouldn’t take your girl in my office and fuck her stupid,” Marco asked in a deadly cold voice.

  Because I’ll cut your fucking dick off.

  The words, stupid as they may have been, were nearly out of Viper’s mouth when Sarge came shoving through the crowd. Blood and bruises marred his swollen face and he moved with a noticeable limp. At least the fucker hadn’t come out of this cluster fuck of his own making bright and shiny.

  “Because he wasn’t the one to touch your girl. That was me.”

  The cocky motherfucker raised his hands and kept walking forward as though he held all the control. Viper gritted his teeth. It didn’t matter who died first, Sarge and Marco were both on his list.

  “You could fuck her,” he continued as he lowered his arms. “It sure would fuck with my buddy’s head.” He shrugged. “But it wouldn’t do shit to me.”

  Marco narrowed his eyes and pressed the sharp glass to Cassie’s neck. The jagged bottle pierced the baby-soft skin of her throat. Viper’s gaze tracked the red trail that flowed down her neck, disappearing into her top. He breathed through his nose as his teeth were clenched too hard to allow air flow.

  Cassie’s small whimper and the sight of her tears sliced into his heart.

  “How about if I slit her throat? Will that mean shit to you?” Marco asked with a grin as though the idea appealed to him.

  Viper started forward. Fuck if he was gonna let this bastard hurt his woman. “You fucking—”

  Sarge’s hand land on Viper’s chest, giving the clear impression to Marco that he was in charge. Fuck.

  Looking fucking bored as could be, Sarge shrugged again. “Not really. Like I said, she ain’t my girl.”

  Fuck this.

  “You put another mark on her and you’ll be shitting in a bag for the rest of your life. Which won’t be long. So, silver lining,” Viper said, shoving Sarge’s hand away as he took a step forward.

  Marco’s lips twitched. “The bitch says you have a deal for me. Don’t you wanna clue me in before you gut me?”

  Her eyes held the panic of desperation. Damn, he loved this woman. She was smart as fuck and quick on her feet. Sure, she’d bluffed her ass off, but it probably saved her more pain and trauma.

  “We do,” he said then looked to Sarge. That fucker was responsible for all this so he could be the one to negotiate their way out of this mess. “He does,” he said tipping his head in Sarge’s direction.

  “Ahh, the girlfriend fucker. Did you enjoy her? She’s a tight little thing, ain’t she?”

  “Not as tight as she was when she came to work tonight.”

  Viper’s eyes fell shut and he blew out a shaky breath. Sarge needed to stop fucking around and get them out of this shit before they all ended up with shattered limbs and severed tongues. Fate for Cassie would make theirs seem desirable.

  “Bar’s closed,” Marco suddenly shouted. “You all got two minutes to get the fuck out.”

  Muttered curses and slurs could be heard throughout the bar as the patrons scrambled to grab their belongings and get the hell outta dodge. He and Sarge got the side eye from nearly everyone who hurried by. No doubt they were thanking their lucky stars they weren’t in his shoes at that moment.

  Once the bar was clear of everyone beside Marco’s employees who’d all moved to guard the exits, Marco tossed the broken bottle on the countertop.

  Cassie’s eyes fell closed and she visibly relaxed.

  Viper wasn’t so confident their status had elevated.

  When her eyes reopened, her gaze connected with his. “I’m sorry,” she mouthed, lower lip trembling as tears coasted over her cheeks. They joined the blood dripping from her nose and neck, leaving pink tracks on her tanned skin.

  He shook his head once. None of this was her fucking fault. Blame lay squarely with Sarge, and some with him for ignoring his screaming gut all night.

  “You have two minutes to tell me the deal. If it sounds good, I’ll take it to Vito. If not,” he made eye contact with Viper and smirked. “I’ll take your girl.” Then he shifted his gaze to Sarge. “You can keep mine either way. The bitch has run her course.”

  Cassie’s eyes grew as wide as a full moon. Her head moved back and forth, but this time, her attention lie on Sarge. He had one shot to end this charade and he better get the job done.

  “Got a lead on military grade weapons. Shit load of them coming straight outta the middle east.”

  What. The. Fuck.

  The Handlers were small fish in the large pond of weapons trafficking. Though the prez had been working to up their game, they just couldn’t compete with the big dogs and had yet to transport assault and military grade weaponry. The club did well when all their small businesses were tallied up. Well enough to live a damn good life, but as with most things, men grew greedy and always wanted more.

  That was the case with the prez and apparently Sarge. Whether the man was talking out his ass to save Cassie still had to be determined. With Sarge’s hordes of contacts still remaining in the military, this supposed weapons hook up could be legit. Later, he’d have time to decide how he felt about the club expanding their distribution. Moving stolen handguns, shot guns and hunting rifles was one thing. Selling weapons stolen from the US military was totally a different ballgame. One he wasn’t convinced he wanted any part of. One he wasn’t sure most of the club would be interested in. There’d been talk about pulling out of the weapons game entirely. ATF had upped their game in recent years, sending too many low-level distributers to prison for decades.

  “I’m not fucking her yet,” Marco said. “Keep talking.”

  “We got a good thing going, but we don’t have the reach you do. We realize we can’t compete with you, but it’d be a damn shame to waste the goods we can get our hands on.”

  “What’s to stop me from finding out who your contact is and working through them directly? Why the fuck would I want the Handlers as middlemen?”

  Sarge laughed. “Your ears clogged? Said they were my contacts. Don’t know why the fuck you think they’d deal with you.”

  A malicious grin curved Marco’s lip. “Because I’ve got cash. That’s usually all it takes to get what I want.”

  With a shake of his head, Sarge said. “They don’t work that way. Trust trumps money in their world. They trust me. They don’t know you from the hole in my ass. Look, I’m offering you a profitable business relationship here. Take it or leave it, I’m not gonna wait around all night for this shit.”

  Was this proposal anywhere on Cutter’s radar or did Sarge act alone, making decisions far above his pay grade?

  Finally, Marco released his hold on Cassie’s hair. She stumbled, nearly falling, but caught herself on the bar at the last second. Viper had to lock his knees out to keep from charging for her. She stared at him, silent tears still falling as her eyes pleaded for this to be over. He nodded once and the unspoken message seemed to be received.

  He was so damn proud of her strength and quick thinking.

  “I’ll take it to Vito. Don’t know what he’ll say, but we’ll be in touch.”

  “You’ve got twenty-four hours,” Sarge said before he turned and walked toward the door as though he held the power in the room.

  Marco
laughed. “Your dick ain’t the biggest here, biker. I’ll find you when Vito is good and ready.”

  Sarge turned and opened his mouth to speak, but Viper cut him off. “There’s no time limit. He’ll be ready to talk when you are.”

  Marco shifted his attention to Viper with a nod. “Shame I won’t get to fuck your woman. Were she his, I wouldn’t be so generous. At the very least, I think I deserve a taste.”

  Viper lunged forward as Marco’s hand shot out, grasping Cassie by the hair once again. He spun her and slammed his mouth down on hers in one smooth motion.

  Cassie’s panicked shriek had Viper’s hands curling. Marco was a fucking dead man.

  “Don’t fucking think about it.” Sarge’s arms wrapped around Viper’s middle in a tight as fuck bear hug. He was yanked back against Sarge’s chest. “Do not fuck this up for us.”

  Was this fucker for real?

  Cassie beat her fists against Marco’s broad chest as he held her face and ravaged her mouth, but she might as well have been hitting a brick wall. The man’s tongue speared into her mouth, making her visibly gag. Viper was immediately sent back in time to the moment his high school sweetheart Vanessa told him she’d been raped. The same helplessness he felt then reared its big fat fucking head and Viper wanted to howl until the windows shattered.

  All of a sudden, Marco jerked back, pressing a hand to his lip.

  Fuck yeah, baby.

  “You fucking, bitch,” he said with a growl as he slapped Cassie across the face. Her head whipped to the side with a cry. “Get the fuck outta here before I change my mind and keep you. You need to be taught a lesson or two.”

  Cassie didn’t need to be told twice. She scrambled over the top of the bar and sprinted toward Viper and Sarge. When she was close enough to reach, Sarge released him. Viper started for Marco, but Cassie grabbed his arms.

  “No,” she said, breathless. “Forget him. Let’s just go. Please, let’s just g-go.” As she begged, she pulled on his arms. Viper forced his attention away from his target and onto his woman. As soon as he caught the despair in her gaze and the bruise already forming on her cheek, all thoughts of Marco fled. His woman needed him and that was all that mattered today, tomorrow, or twenty years in the future.

  “Come on, baby,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. Slinging an arm around her shoulder, he turned for the door and guided her out, not sparing a glance for Sarge. That fucker could follow or not. He didn’t give a shit.

  “Viper,” Cassie whispered when they reached his bike. “I’m so sorry. I should have gotten a cab like you suggested. Or I never should have gone through with that stupid bet. I don’t know what—”

  “Shhh.” He kissed her temple. “We’ll talk about everything, but we need to get out of here first. Need help getting on the bike?”

  “No. I got it.”

  He mounted his baby and Cassie climbed on behind him. Sarge hopped on his own bike and tore out of the parking lot. Following at a close distance, Viper tried not to fantasize about Sarge driving off the edge of the goddammed mountain.

  The feel of Cassie’s soft body molded to his was the only thing keeping him grounded when he wanted to tear something apart. Something like Sarge’s face.

  After riding with him for a year, Cassie had grown to love the bike and typically held on with a loose grip as she took in the sights and enjoyed the feeling of flying through the mountain roads. Tonight, she plastered her entire body against his back, so close, every breath she took registered against him. Along with the shaky exhales. Her thin arms were locked around his waist with fistfuls of his T-shirt in each hand. Once he got her home, he’d be ordering her to bed for the next twenty-four hours.

  About five miles from the bar, when they were certain Marco hadn’t sent guys to tail them, Sarge pulled to the side of the road at an overlook. Though the urge to flip him off and keep on riding was a tempting one, Viper pulled over as well.

  He had a thing or two to say to his so-called brother.

  As Sarge did, Viper stopped the bike but didn’t kill the engine. “Stay here, baby,” he said as he swung his leg over the seat. “Don’t get off the bike.” Cassie stayed seated, mouth pressed into a thin line of displeasure.

  “Viper—”

  “Don’t. Get. Off. The. Bike.” Cupping her face, still with dried blood and emerging bruises, he gave her a soft kiss. It wasn’t often, if ever, that he ordered her around. They didn’t work that way. Cassie was an intelligent, independent woman who didn’t need him to hold her hand through life. A woman like that wouldn’t have lasted with him anyway. He had no desire to lord power over his woman. That being said, he had no problem taking charge in times of crisis and Cassie respected him and them enough to yield to him if he truly felt it necessary.

  “I’ll be right here,” she whispered with an exaggerated pucker.

  Chuckling, he kissed her again.

  “I knew you couldn’t resist all this beauty.” She winked a slightly swollen eye without even flinching. The injection of humor was her way of letting him know she was all right. Still, she had yet to see herself in the mirror and would understand his anger once she did.

  “Baby, you’d be beautiful no matter what.”

  Her sweet smile followed him as he turned in time to see Sarge hang up his phone and climb off his bike.

  “Woo!” The other prospect hollered, pumping his fist in the air. “Fucking rush, am I right?”

  Sarge jogged closer, practically levitating off the road. The man’s smile and obvious fucking glee at the events that just transpired were the last fucking straws. Viper clenched his fists, took two long strides and met Sarge’s face with a satisfying crunch.

  Pain bloomed in his knuckles and ricocheted up his arm. He welcomed it. He’d put his trust in this man. He’d trusted him with Cassie.

  “Fuck!” he screamed as he cocked his fist once again.

  “Viper, don’t!” Cassie shouted from the bike.

  With a grunt of pain, Sarge staggered backward. “What the fuck, V?” Once he regained his footing, he assumed a fighter’s stance.

  Game fucking on.

  “The fuck were you thinking, asshole? Having me bring my woman there? You realize what almost fucking happened to her? I fucking trusted you.”

  Christ, the image of Marco’s mouth on Cassie’s was now burned into his psyche, set to torment him for the rest of his days.

  And that was the least of what had almost happened.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  1983 - TENNESSEE

  They were going to kill each other. Though Viper instructed her to stay on the bike in his rarely used uber-serious tone, how could she sit by and watch them fight?

  She couldn’t. Not when she already felt responsible for the night taking a turn for the shittastic.

  Cassie blew out a breath as she darted off the bike and toward the two prospects facing off like boxers in the ring.

  For crying out loud, why on earth had she taken that bet? Maybe one day, she’d look back on it as a foolish decision of the young and stupid, but tonight all she felt was regret and guilt. And disgust, there was plenty of that too. Mostly from Marco’s mouth on hers. A toothbrush and the kind of mouthwash that burned the hell out of her tongue couldn’t come fast enough.

  She should have taken a cab home when she had the chance.

  Viper charged forward and so did Sarge, but before they collided in a heap of fists and outrage, she jumped between them and spread her arms. Two hard chests slammed into her palms, sending a ripple of discomfort up to her shoulders. She held firm, pushing outward with all her might. Sure, she couldn’t out-strength them, but she could damn well try. Angry as she was at Sarge, she refused to watch them try to kill each other on the side of the road.

  “Stop it!” Cassie screamed, shoving hard against each of them. “Stop this bullshit right now!”

  Sarge lifted his hands in surrender, then interlaced his fingers behind his head as he turned and strode away
with a curse.

  “Cassie…” Viper breathed as though he’d just finished working out.

  She stepped into him, placing both hands on his chest. Looking into his eyes she rubbed her palms up and down. Heat radiated off him, more than usual thanks to the anger and adrenalin. “I know. I know. I didn’t listen, but Viper, you two can’t beat the shit out of each other.” Even the insanity of the messed-up night couldn’t stop her from appreciating the firm muscles under her hands. Were circumstances different, she’d slip her fingers under his T-shirt and see what kind of mischief they could get up to. But tonight she had other priorities. Mainly ensuring these two didn’t murder each other. “You’re both already a mess and this won’t make you feel better.”

  “I’m willing to see for myself,” Viper said, trying to push past her. She held firm, keeping him away from Sarge. “Does Cutter even fucking know about this shit?” he shouted at Sarge who stood a good fifteen feet away, hands still behind his head.

  “No he doesn’t fucking know. It’s called taking the goddammed initiative.” He pounded his chest with his closed fist, once. “Me. I’m showing him what I’m fucking made of. What I bring to this club.”

  Viper snorted. “That’s rich. We’re prospects, Sarge. We don’t take the initiative. We follow orders so the club knows we’re trustworthy and loyal.” He threw his hands in the air, frustration pouring off him in waves. “You wanna show him what you’re made of, you do every goddammed thing he asks and do it better than anyone before you. You got a brilliant fucking idea to get the club fucked in the ass by Vito, you take it to a patched member first or you wait four goddammed weeks until we’re patched in.” He spun, stalking off with his hands on his hips. When he was a good ten feet away, he screamed out, “Fuuck!” as he kicked a pile of dirt and rocks, spraying debris across the one lane highway.

  When Sarge didn’t make a move to chase him down, Cassie lowered her arms to her waist. The night had grown chilly with a breeze making it downright cold. Until this moment, the surge of adrenalin had kept her near boiling, but now that the danger had passed, shivers raced through her limbs. She wrapped her arms around her midsection and chewed her lower lip as she switched her gaze between the enraged men.