Rocket (Hell's Handlers MC Book 5)

by Lilly Atlas

  His strategy with Chloe was much the same. Get her used to a man’s touch in a safe way. Maybe then, once she no longer reacted with fear, he’d finally be absolved of the guilt that had settled in his gut the moment he saw her beaten and brutalized. And maybe he could shake the iron grip she seemed to have on his balls.

  “Thank you,” she said turning to him.

  The gratitude was for more than accompanying her to her car. He nodded. “Trust me, every second of this evening has been my pleasure.” He stepped closer to her. Then closer still, until his body was flush against hers. What he wanted to do was crowd her against her car, but he didn’t want her to feel trapped or forced into anything.

  “W-what are you doing?” she asked as she lifted her hands to his chest, neither pushing him away nor pulling him closer. Did she even know which action she preferred?

  “Friday’s a long way away. That’s six nights I have to lie in my bed remembering the taste of your pussy, the feel of it on my cock, and the way your tits felt in my mouth. Six nights of remembering and not being able to do a goddamn thing about it. Give me one more memory to add to my list. One more thing to torture myself with. Give me something I haven’t had yet.” As he spoke, he moved in until his lips where brushing hers with every word spoken.

  He paused with nothing but millimeters separating them. She had to give the final okay.

  “Yes,” Chloe breathed.

  That was all he needed to claim her mouth with a hunger that had been building for months. She was sweet, thanks to the pie, and warm from two cups of coffee. Her small whimper allowed him to deepen the kiss, slipping his tongue into her mouth. As he absorbed her flavor, she finally decided what to do with her hands. Those fingers curled into the fabric of his T-shirt and held on for dear life.

  He fisted his hands at his side, fighting the urge to fully crush her to him. Making her feel trapped or reminding her of her nightmares wasn’t an option. Rocket absorbed every sensation, the soft brush of her nose as it bumped his. Her curious tongue tangling with his and making him want nothing more than to feel it stroking the length of his dick. The near purr vibrating from the back of her throat when he nipped her bottom lip. Each and every sensation ramped up his need to have her hard, fast, and with screaming satisfaction.

  One day soon. He could feel it in his bones. He’d get her there. Back to the woman she was before his club’s business destroyed her life.

  Maybe then he could move past this obsession and get on with his fucking life.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  ROCKET SLID THE heavy ladder into the bed of his pick-up then wiped his sweaty brow with the hem of his filthy T-shirt. These days, he didn’t do nearly as much of the manual labor as he used to—owning the company had some perks—but there were certain things his anal-retentive self had never been able to completely relinquish control of. And one of those tasks was checking over every damn inch of the work before any type of inspection. He tended to whip out his fine-toothed comb afterhours to avoid raising his men’s hackles. He trusted them to do quality work, wouldn’t have hired them otherwise, but it was his name on the business card, and he’d be damned if he didn’t stand behind every nail and screw.

  His need for perfection was the reason he was at a jobsite by himself on a Saturday afternoon. Monday, a city inspector would be coming by to ensure the gas hook-ups had been installed properly in the massive kitchen of a restaurant his crew was renovating. Before the inspector came out, Rocket wanted one last peek at the work so there would be no surprises come Monday morning. As he’d expected, everything was perfect. He only hired the best and most meticulous of workers.

  After another wipe of the perspiration, this time on the back of his neck, he checked his phone.

  A message was waiting from Chloe.

  7 work for you?

  Fuck yeah, seven worked. Fuck, he’d head there now if he could. Chloe was making and bringing him dinner to their motel room. That meant time together without him shackled. And that meant her trust in him was growing. They’d be alone in the motel room for a meal. Rocket wouldn’t be shackled for the entire meal or for a few other things if he had his way. A huge step in whatever this odd friendship/sex buddy thing they had going on was.

  “That from the sexy redhead I saw you with last night?”

  Fuck! Shit! Rocket’s blood went from ninety-eight to two hundred and twelve degrees in under three seconds. Just the thought of Esposito breathing the same air as Chloe had him homicidal.

  He whirled around, doing his best to school his expression. Of all the ways to be approached by Esposito, being caught off guard was the worst. “Fuck you doing in my town, old man?” he asked in a bored voice that disguised his angst.

  Esposito smirked. The man had been around the block too many times to fall for Rocket’s shit. “Didn’t mean to startle you.” Older than Rocket by at least twenty-five years, his once black hair had dulled to a dingy gray and the flat abs he’d sported for years had pooched out since Rocket last saw him. The guy was getting too used to living the high life. Forgetting what hard work consisted of.

  “Need this?” Esposito tossed an icy bottle of water Rocket’s way.

  He hated to take a thing from the guy, but he was thirsty as fuck and needed to pick his battles. Pitching a fit over the offer of water wasn’t a good way to start this conversation.

  “Why you here, old man?” Rocket asked as he caught the bottle one handed. He twisted the sealed cap off and took a long drink. When half the bottle had been drained, he leveled his gaze on Esposito.

  His former boss chuckled with a shake of his head. “You always did have a way of looking at people that made them feel like you were melting their insides with your stare. You’re a hard fucker, Rocket. And you know why I’m here. Told you, you owe me.” He held out a manila folder.

  Rocket didn’t budge.

  “Take it.” When Rocket still didn’t move, Esposito rolled his eyes and closed the fifteen-foot gap between them. “Just take a fucking look.”

  Rocket stared at the file as though it were covered in anthrax. One thing was for sure, he’d regret opening it. Another thing was for sure, he’d regret not fucking opening it. Esposito was good that way. The master of creating a damned if you do, damned if you don’t situation.

  Suppressing the growl of frustration clawing at his throat—he wasn’t showing fucking weakness for a second—he snatched the file. “Doesn’t matter what the fuck’s in here. I’m not doing it.”

  “Just fucking look.”

  Sure enough, regret. The instant he flipped to the first paper in the file. An image of a beautiful young woman stared up at him. She was side by side with a smiling young man who had his arm slung across her shoulders. The rage, disgust, and hatred were instant. Copper had been fucking right. Rocket lived for protecting others. Eliminating the scum of the earth. Esposito knew it too and wanted to make a mockery of it.

  “The fuck is this, old man? Ward and June here don’t exactly look like terrorists or blood thirsty leaders of a cartel.”

  A smirk curled Esposito’s lips. “No, but you’re not far off. They don’t run the cartel, they fight them.”

  What?

  His old boss stepped closer. “This lovely lady and her husband here are your classic save-the-world do-gooders. They’ve been funneling illegals out of Mexico for the past three years. Specifically, people on the cartel’s hit list.” His smirk turned positively evil. “You have any idea how much the cartel is willing to pay to rid themselves of this annoyance?”

  “No,” Rocket said, impressed with how disinterested he sounded while his mind was whirling with a million what-the-fuck thoughts. “I have no idea what the going rate for one’s soul is these days. I’m sure you’re about to tell me, though.”

  “Five million,” Esposito said, his greedy eyes gleaming with money lust.

  Jesus.

  “Per body.”

  No wonder the old man was so intent on having this done and
done well.

  In the last few months of Rocket’s employment, he’d gained firsthand knowledge of Esposito’s less than moral business dealings. When he let Rocket go all those years ago with a promise of being owed a favor, Rocket should have known this day would come.

  Ignoring the primal part of him yearning to jump to the couple’s rescue, he flipped the file closed, and held it back out.

  “Not interested.”

  “You’re mistaken if you think I care about your level of interest.”

  Rocket clenched his teeth. “Get lost.”

  Propping his arm on the side of Rocket’s pick-up, Esposito smirked again. “No can do. I need this job done and I need it done by you. Yesterday. Come on, Rocket, shouldn’t take you more than a few weeks. You zip on down to Mexico, do some recon, take the fucker out and done. Payment fulfilled. You’ll never hear from me again. Hell, I’ll even throw in a hundred grand to sweeten the deal.”

  So, all it took to get out from Esposito’s thumb was the destruction of what was left of his soul.

  “Fuck off.”

  “You can’t refuse,” he said with a laugh as though it was the most obvious fact in the universe. Esposito hated Rocket for the way he’d left the company. Esposito had probably been salivating after this for years. Get his big money maker job done and ruin Rocket in the process. No skin off his back. His company would thrive. The only thing the bastard cared about.

  “I can,” he said, slamming the tailgate closed.

  He rounded the truck then slid behind the wheel. Before he had the ignition fired, Esposito appeared at his open window. The smug fucker folded his arms on the window frame. “You always did prefer the hard way, didn’t you, Rocket?”

  “Fuck off.” Rocket leveled him with a glare so deadly, Esposito squirmed.

  But his discomfort only lasted for the blink of an eye. “Pretty little thing, your redhead. Though all the women who seem to be attached to your club are. Maybe not that tall one with the braid, she looks like she could kick my ass. I’m partial to the little curly blonde. You know the one, with the cute little girl of her own.”

  Shell. Copper’s woman. Copper would rip Esposito limb from limb if he so much as sniffed in Shell’s direction. Might be kind of fun to watch. Rocket curled his hands around the wheel. It was either that or reach through the window and slam Esposito’s head against the side of his truck. The goddamn motherfucker’d had eyes on his truck for who knew how long. The thought of him watching all the women, Chloe especially, was enough to make him lose his mind. He fired up the truck. Chloe had to be protected. If that meant confessing what he’d been doing with her to Copper, so be it. Esposito couldn’t get his bloody hands anywhere near her.

  Rocket revved the engine causing Esposito to back away from the vehicle, arms raised. “Think about. I’ll be in town for a few days.” He took another two steps back as Rocket shifted the truck in drive.

  Copper was gonna shit a brick.

  “See you soon,” Esposito called out as Rocket’s truck kicked up a cloud of dust in its wake.

  He hung his arm out the window, flipping Esposito the bird with one hand. The other dialed Copper while he used his knee to steer.

  “What’s up, Rocket?” Copper answered on the second ring.

  “Esposito’s in town.”

  “Shit. You on your way in?” Something crashed in the background. Probably the brick falling from Copper’s ass.

  “Ten minutes.”

  “Make it five.”

  A grunt was the only reply he gave his prez before he hit the end button and floored the gas.

  Seven minutes later, he was seated in the chapel with the rest of the executive board. Bringing trouble to the club’s doorstep was the last thing Rocket ever wanted. First off, he hated being the fucking center of attention and second, he was the SAA. His job was to keep the club orderly and prevent any internal or external strife. And here he was, the one hand delivering a pile of shit. Copper ought to rip the title from him.

  And he just might.

  Since he was last to arrive, Copper began the moment his ass hit the chair. “Okay, Rocket, thanks for getting in so fast. I haven’t had a chance to fill everyone in yet, so why don’t you get the guys up to speed. And use actual full sentences please.”

  He shot his prez a look then took in the room. “Guy I used to work for, name’s Esposito, wants me to do a job for him.”

  “What kind of job?” Zach cut in, all ears. As the club’s enforcer, he lived for anything that allowed him to bring out his meaty fists.

  Well shit, looked like it was time to bleed his past all over the clubhouse. His brothers probably wouldn’t be able to stomach the sight of him by the time he was done with his tale. “He’s top dog of a private defense contractor. I was his lead operator.”

  The room grew quiet as the men digested that information and read between the lines.

  “Well, none of you have ever known me to keep my mouth shut, so I’ll be the one to ask. Is lead operator code for badass assassin?” Maverick asked. His inked arms were folded across the table top, and the pierced eyebrow had arched high into his forehead.

  “It means I was lead operator.”

  “Got it. So badass assassin it is. Why’d you leave?”

  Copper cut in. “The real question here is how did he leave. Rocket started noticing some inconsistencies with their contracts. Turned out Esposito was taking on contracts that were questionable if the price was right.”

  Questionable. Rocket almost laughed. The contracts Esposito favored were downright fucking wrong. The face of the last man Rocket killed for Esposito floated through his brain. A cop in Russia who’d taken too much of an interest in putting a stop to the mafia. Esposito had been hired to take him out. Gave the job to Rocket complete with a thick file full of years of terrorist activity and affiliations.

  All lies to manipulate Rocket into carrying out the execution.

  The last hit of his career.

  The mission that haunted him for over five years.

  “Shit,” Mav muttered as Jig grunted. Zach sat silent, but his fists curled.

  “Rocket walked and—"

  Rocket blinked himself back into the present. He may not be a chatty Cathy, but this was his story to tell. Time to man up and own it. “I got this, Cop. Esposito let me go with the condition that I owed him. Think he knew all along I’d catch on at some point. Figured if he let me walk, at least he’d get something out of me in the future. He’s tried to collect a few times.” Rocket shrugged. “I always turn him down.”

  “Let me guess,” Zach said. “He’s not taking no for an answer this time?”

  “Something like that.”

  “He gonna send someone to take you out? Come after the club?” Zach asked, face hardening with displeasure. This got his enforcer hackles rising.

  “That ain’t his style. He’s a sneaky shit. More likely to go after an ol’ lady than come for us guns blazing.”

  The tone of the room turned deadly serious. Each of his brothers wore expressions of varying disbelief and rage. With all their anger directed Rocket’s way, he struggled to keep his head high and meet their solemn gazes.

  “How likely are we talking here?” Zach asked.

  Rocket folded his hands on the table, leaning on his forearms. “He’s in town. Popped up at my jobsite right before I came here.”

  “He make any threats?” Jig’s eyes were sharp, fully engaged and ready for action. He’d lived through the devastating loss of his first wife. As independent and capable of taking care of herself as Izzy was, any kind of threat to her or around her set Jig off.

  “In a roundabout way. Told me the club has some beautiful ol’ ladies. Let me know he’s had eyes on us.”

  “Fuck,” Mav said. “Let’s go get the ladies.” He looked to Copper who nodded. “They’re all together. They have a girls’ night planned for tonight. Drove out to Pigeon Forge to check out that new café, and then were gonna stock up on w
ine and junk food.”

  “Let’s do it.” Zach popped up and followed Mav out the door with Jig and Viper not far behind. Rocket remained seated for a moment as did Copper.

  “He know about her?”

  Rocket could play dumb. Ask who was the her Copper was referring to. But why waste his energy? The clock was ticking and he was itchy as fuck to make sure Chloe was protected.

  “Yes. Mentioned seeing me with her a few times.”

  Even through his full beard, the thinning of Copper’s pressed lips was evident. As was the angry glint in his eyes. “What happened to just following her to make sure she was safe?”

  “It started that way, but…shit.” He ran a hand down his face.

  “Fuck, Rocket. You know you gotta bring her in now, right?”

  He almost laughed out loud at the thought of asking Chloe to come to the clubhouse. That was going to fly as high as a lead balloon. But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered beyond keeping her safe. She could hate him and his brothers all she wanted, she was coming to the clubhouse and he’d protect her. Esposito was capable of things that made what happened to her before look mild. Just being on Esposito’s radar put her in great danger. And nothing would touch her on Rocket’s watch. He’d happily take out any man who made her so much as stub her toe.

  “I know. I already sent a prospect to watch her house until I got there. I’ll call her on the way. Might be a little bit. She’s not exactly a fan of the club.”

  Copper’s snort was full of disgust. “Good luck with that, brother. Better you than fucking me.”

  As he left the clubhouse, Rocket dialed Chloe’s number. No answer.

  Two seconds later his phone rang. “Yeah?” he said when he saw Thunder’s number. He’d been a prospect for a few months and was proving his worth.

  “She ain’t home, Rock.”

  Well, shit.

  “Thanks, Thunder. Stick around a while and let me know when she shows up.”

  She barely went out during the day. Where the fuck was she? Could Esposito have her already? No, he’d make Rocket look over his shoulder for a few days before trying something. It was all part of his mind games. Let the club sweat knowing he could pop up any place at any time.