Copper (Hell's Handlers MC Book 4)

by Lilly Atlas

  Copper swallowed his oversized bite of waffle, brow furrowed. “The fuck you talking about?” The previous night was a blur of alcohol, loud music, and laughter, but no matter how he racked his brain, he couldn’t even remember speaking with Shell. He must have. She organized the party, and would have at least wished him a happy birthday. Then there was Zach’s statement which led him to believe he had some interaction with her.

  “Shit,” Jig said. “That’s right, Prez. I almost forgot about that. ’Bout time you made a move there.”

  Copper growled. What the fuck were these ladies running their traps about? There’s no way in hell he’d ever make any kind of move on Shell. By the smirks on Mav, Jig, and Zach’s faces, they knew it and were just yanking his chain. “Get the fuck outta here.”

  “They’re right, Cop,” Mav pipped in from next to Copper. “Known you both a long damn time and aside from the night her pops was killed I’ve never seen you do more than shake her hand. Last night you had her on your lap, nuzzling her neck and shit. Looked about ten seconds away from yanking her dress down and sucking her tits.”

  “Hey!” Copper slapped Mav on the back of his head, causing his brother’s coffee to slosh on the table. “Have some fucking respect. That’s Shell you’re talking about. She’s a mother for fuck’s sake.”

  Zach snorted out a laugh. “So what? That automatically makes her unfuckable? Don’t think so, Prez. Shell’s hot and every man in the club knows that. Only reason they stay away is they think you’ve got dibs. That won’t last forever, though. One day there’ll be some prospect brave enough to claim her. And how do you think she became a mother? Doubt it was an immaculate fucking conception.”

  How Beth came to be was something Copper didn’t allow himself to think about. Ever. Made him sick to his stomach to imagine some dumb kid with his hands and twiggy dick all over an eighteen-year-old Shell. Copper shot his enforcer a look that would have made a lesser man piss himself. Unfortunately, he’d known Zach about ten years, and his murder-glares weren’t as effective as they’d once been.

  He ran a hand down his face. Shit. How drunk had he been last night? Sure, he’d been shitfaced, that much was obvious by the throbbing head and aching eyes, but to break his one hard and fast rule and be all over Shell? Dread filled him. God, he hoped he hadn’t crossed any lines. Last thing he wanted or needed was an awkward conversation explaining he didn’t mean anything that had happened.

  “Look, the club’s had the year from hell and it was my fortieth birthday. Think I’m entitled to one night of stupidity. I don’t even remember seeing Shell last night, let alone having her on my lap. But whatever happened, I know two things.” He held up a finger. “First, I was drunk off my ass, which is the only reason I had my hands on her. You know I’d never have touched her if I wasn’t smashed. She’s a fuckin’ kid.”

  Across the table, Jig’s eyes widened, and he subtly shook his head once. Then again.

  “And two,” Copper said adding a second finger. “I don’t want Shell, have never wanted Shell, and never will want Shell, so just leave it the fuck alone.”

  This time Jig cleared his throat and jerked his chin at Copper. Next to him, Zach stared down at his plate as thought it was covered in naked pics of his woman.

  “The fuck’s wrong with you, Jig?” Copper looked over his shoulder and nearly choked on his tongue. About three feet away, Shell stood holding a full pot of coffee with a blank stare and flat mouth.

  The expression lasted about three seconds before she blinked, licked her lips and plastered the phoniest smile he’d ever seen on her face.

  Fuck. He’d really stepped in it. Just because he’d never admit his attraction to her out loud and never act on it sober, it didn’t mean he wanted to hurt her in any way. Shell hadn’t had it easy. Father murdered when she was eleven, pregnant as a teenager, single mother working two exhausting jobs. Last thing he intended was to add to her stress. Fuck, he typically went out of his way to ease her burdens. She was stubborn and independent as could be, bucking at every offer of a handout so he had to get creative in his propositions of help.

  “Hey, guys,” she said in a falsely chipper tone.

  Zach winced.

  Jig shot her an empathetic smile.

  “I’m sure after last night you all need some more of this, huh?” She lifted the coffee pot that looked too heavy for her slender arms.

  For a second, no one said anything, then Mav held up his mug. “Yeah, sweetie, I need an ocean’s worth of the stuff. How is it you’re looking so gorgeous this morning? You were out as late as the rest of us.”

  “I was,” she said, topping him off. “But I didn’t drink my weight in booze.”

  Jig snickered. “You have a point there. Though I think we’d have all been fine if we stopped after we drank your weight in booze.”

  With a sweet smile for Jig, she filled his cup as well.

  “Where’s Beth today?” Zach asked. Sometimes, on Sunday mornings, Shell didn’t have childcare and brought Beth to the diner with her. Toni never minded. Everyone loved Beth to pieces.

  “She’s in the kitchen sweet talking Ernesto into putting extra chocolate chips in her pancakes.” As she spoke about her daughter, her fake smile morphed into a genuine one. Nothing got a mom beaming like mention of their adorable child.

  Only problem was, she hadn’t so much as glanced in Copper’s direction. Not once. She spoke to Mav, Zach, and Jig but wouldn’t give him the time of day.

  Well, he fucking deserved it. But he wasn’t one to avoid conflict so he said, “Shell, can I talk to you a sec?”

  Finally, she turned to him and the happiness slid right off her face. She wasn’t even pretending anymore. “Sorry, Copper, this fucking kid has three tables waiting on food.” Then she turned and for the first time in her life, dismissed him.

  A sick feeling settled in the pit of his stomach, followed by anger. As president of the MC, he was used to people jumping on his command. Shell was the one person who repeatedly defied him to his face, and he always let her get away with it. “Goddammit, woman,” he yelled as he slipped out of the booth. Just as he was about to chase her down and drag her into Toni’s office, his phone rang.

  “Fuck!”

  It was the prison.

  “I need to take this,” he said to his men who nodded.

  “This is Copper,” he said into his cell as he shouldered the door open and stepped into the frigid winter air.

  “A prisoner from the United States Penitentiary, Tucson Arizona would like to connect with you. Please say yes or press one to continue,” the pre-recorded voice said.

  “Yes.” There was a click then about twenty seconds of the most God-awful hold music imaginable.

  “Happy fucking birthday, old man.”

  Copper’s face split into a grin. “Thanks, Rusty. Damn, it’s good to hear from you, brother. How you doing?”

  Ten years Copper’s junior, Rusty was serving out a fifteen-year sentence for aggravated assault in a federal prison. The entire thing was bullshit. Rusty had been defending himself and while he did nearly beat a man to death, the punishment did not fit the crime. Hell, if it’d been Copper, he’d have killed the bastard.

  “Hanging in like usual. Want to hear about your birthday though. Heard the boys were going all out. Bet there was some prime pussy there. Mmm mmm mmm. Fuck, I miss pussy.”

  Copper’s heart clenched. Rusty was missing out on a lot more than just pussy. He still had years left on his sentence. About ten to be exact. When Copper was twenty and Rusty just ten, their parents were killed by a drunk driver. After that, they left Ireland and moved to Tennessee to be near family. Copper pretty much raised Rusty from that point on. Damn near broke his heart when his little brother was sent away. He cleared his throat. Wouldn’t do Rusty any good to have Copper getting all weepy. “Actually, Shell planned the whole thing. Did a good job, barely remember more than five minutes of the party.”

  Rusty’s laugh was music to
his ears. “Damn, brother, sounds like a righteous time. Please tell me at least part of your night was spent balls deep in something sweet and easy. Give me a story to fuel my imagination.”

  Rolling his eyes, Copper huffed out a laugh. “Sure was.” Whatever Rusty needed to get him through the long, harsh days in prison, Copper would provide. Even if it was lies about his sex life. “Blond, stacked, and up for anything.” An image of Shell came to mind in a killer purple dress, lifting a glass in toast to him. Shit, was that what she’d looked like last night? Now he needed more of the party to come back to him. Especially if what Mav said was true and he’d had her in his lap.

  “You’ve always been a blond man. Not me. Love me some dark hair. Hey, Cop, I got something to tell you.” Excitement laced Rusty’s voice. “Think you’re gonna be pretty pumped.”

  “What is it, brother? They change your work order?” He’d been stuck on laundry duty for the last year and bitched about it every chance he got.

  “Nah, bit better than that.”

  “Well spit it out. You got me curious now.”

  “Turns out, I’m a model fucking prisoner.”

  Copper sucked in a breath and held it, his heart pounding. Was Rusty about to say what Copper had been hoping for every single day since the trial?”

  “Two months, brother.” Rusty choked up a bit, then sniffed, and said in a stronger voice, “Two fucking months and I’m coming home.”

  He blinked, afraid to believe the words. “You’re shitting me. Tell me you’re not shitting me.”

  “Not shitting you, Cop. Wouldn’t do that to you.”

  Copper bent forward and rested his free hand on his thigh. The news was a sledgehammer to the gut, in the best way possible. His knees almost buckled. Holy shit, this was fanfuckingtastic news. The best news.

  “Cop? You there?”

  “Yeah, brother, I’m here. I’m just… fuck, I don’t even know what I am.”

  Rusty chuckled. “I hear you. About passed out cold when my lawyer told me the news. I ain’t supposed to be eligible for parole for another three years. But I guess I’ve been a good little boy. Combine that with overcrowding and boom, I’m out. Look, I only got a minute left here, but I’ll be getting you more info as the date gets closer, okay?”

  “Sounds good, little brother. We’ll be riding out to get you. Whole club. And we’ll bring your bike so you can ride home with us. Can’t wait to see you,” Copper said, straightening and looking through the windows into the diner. Shell was wiping down a spot at the counter with her shoulders drooping and no smile in sight. He had to fix that mess he’d made, but at least he was in a good mood now.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Rusty said with a laugh. “Guess I’m looking forward to seeing you too. I’m really looking forward to fucking my way through the Honeys. You better have some new pussy on board since I’ve been there.”

  “We do, brother. Promise you won’t be disappointed. Take care of yourself in there.”

  “Always,” Rusty said.

  Copper disconnected the call then re-entered the diner and headed straight for his brothers.

  “Musta been a good fucking phone call, Prez. You look like you just got blown or some shit. And we all know that didn’t happen,” Mav said, making the other two dipshits laugh. Mav had the kind of mouth that made people either bust a gut or want to strangle him. Wasn’t hard to guess which way Copper was leaning at the moment.

  Rusty’s news had him flying so high, he didn’t bother to go after Mav. As he folded his big body back into the small booth, he rubbed his palms together. “Just got some good news, boys. Damn good news.”

  “What’s that?” Zach said as he stuffed a monster sized bite of bacon in his mouth.

  “Rusty is getting out early on good behavior. He’ll be home in two months.”

  “Holy shit!” Mav said with a smile. “That is good news.”

  “Congratulations, brother,” Zach said. “Pretty spectacular birthday present right there.”

  “You’re telling me,” Copper said. He polished off the last sip of his lukewarm coffee then looked at Jig. He’d been silent since the announcement, though that wasn’t entirely surprising. Jig and Rusty hadn’t ever stated their dislike of one another, but they weren’t close either. Though to be fair, Jig hadn’t been too close to many of the guys until recently, when he got an ol’ lady. Izzy was dragging the man out of his shell and turning him into someone who was actually fun to be around.

  As he’d been before, Jig was looking at something over Copper’s shoulder. Copper peeked, and once again encountered the shocked face of Shell. Only this time, she didn’t bother with a shitty faux smile.

  “Refill?” she asked in a hoarse voice.

  “Please.” Copper held up his cup and looked her straight in the eye. It wasn’t hard to smile at her. He was flying so high off Rusty’s announcement. She met his gaze but didn’t return the grin. He’d be groveling later, that was for sure. Maybe he’d take Beth for a few hours after Shell got off work. The woman never had more than thirty seconds to herself in a day. Giving her some time to take a bath, drink some wine, and watch TV or whatever shit women did when they were alone ought to get him out of the dog house.

  Despite being on her bad side, Copper couldn’t help but feel great.

  Rusty was coming home.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “MOMMY! I’M SO, so hungry!” Beth shouted from her bedroom. “My belly is yelling at me so loud.”

  Shell rolled her eyes as she pulled an apple out of the refrigerator. “All right, hold your horses, Bethy. I’ll get you a snack.”

  “I don’t have any horses, Mommy. Where are the horses?”

  With a chuckle, she grabbed the gallon jug of milk and set it on the counter. “Never mind about the horses. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll bring you something to eat.”

  “But I want to hold the horses.” Beth’s voice had the whiny, I’m-about-to-throw-a-fit quality that warned of impending loudness.

  Shell glanced up at the white ceiling. Give me strength. “How about an apple with peanut butter?”

  “Yesss!” Crisis averted. Oh, the power of distraction. Sometimes four-year-olds were so easy. And sometimes they were the fiercest opponent in the world.

  Shell dug through the cabinet overflowing with kiddie cups and plates until she found one of the Elsa cups. Over the past week, Beth had refused to drink from anything other than a cup with a Frozen theme. Some battles weren’t worth the effort, so Shell let her have that one. As she poured the milk into the cup, the doorbell rang, startling the hell out of her. She jerked so hard, the jug hit the cup and knocked it over. Milk sloshed directly onto the front of her sweatshirt.

  “Fantastic,” she muttered as she grabbed a wad of paper towels. “Just a minute,” she called out toward the door. “I’m coming.”

  Blotting her pants, she walked to the door. Whoever it was probably wouldn’t hang around outside the closed door until she changed, so she’d be welcoming them looking like she’d slobbered all over herself.

  “Oh well.” She swung the door open. “Hel—oh, Copper.” The ache that had formed in her chest at his earlier words in the diner intensified, throbbing with renewed vigor. Man, those words slayed her. Sure, she’d known the truth of them all along, but without verbal confirmation, she’d always been able to imagine something happening between them one day. Now it seemed an impossible dream.

  “Hey,” he said, hands in his pockets.

  Why, oh, why did he always have to look so damn sexy? Life’s cruel little joke. A black Nirvana T-shirt stretched to capacity across his broad chest. Both tattooed arms seemed to tease her with memories of the way they held her against him the night before.

  “What are you doing here?” On any other day, she’d welcome him into her home. Having him in the private space she shared with Beth was one of her favorite things. But the day had been spoiled. Now, all she wanted was to be alone, so she stood in the doorway blocking Copper’
s entrance. Of course, solitude was impossible with a four-year-old and only three hours before she had to be at her second job, but she’d take what she could get. Maybe fifteen minutes of peace and quiet while Beth ate her snack would be good enough.

  Speak of the devil…

  The surprisingly strong pounding of little feet was followed by Beth poking her curly strawberry-blond head out the door in the space next to Shell’s hip. “Copper!” She flung her little body straight at him.

  Vastly experienced with Beth’s exuberant greetings, Copper caught her as she flew at him. He tossed her up in the air and laughed just as loudly as she did. Then he settled her on his hip like he was born for it. Shell ground her back teeth together.

  “Can I come in?”

  She hesitated. Was she about to refuse him for the first time in, well, ever?

  “Yes, Copper. Come in! Come in! I want to show you what I drawed for you,” Beth gushed.

  Guess he was coming in. The smirk on his face told her he knew Beth was the only reason she’d granted him entry. She glanced at her daughter with her head now resting on Copper’s broad shoulder. As usual, she beamed at him like the sun shined out his ass.

  Little traitor.

  Shell stepped to the side as she gestured into her tiny living room. “Sure, come on in. Can I get you anything?”

  “Nah, I’m good, babe. Don’t go to any trouble.” He settled on her couch with Beth perched on his lap. She rested her back against his chest then lifted his large arms and locked them around her. Beth was a cuddle bug by nature, and Copper was her favorite snuggle buddy.

  He whispered something in her ear that had a sweet tinkle of giggles erupting from her. Shell looked on with hot jealously coursing through her blood. Jesus, she was officially the worst mother in the universe. Jealous of her four year old for the affection she received from an adult who cared for her. Pathetic didn’t even cover it. Yet, it was true. Aside from the anomaly of last night, Copper never touched her. If he so much as bumped her hand, he’d spring back like she scalded him. It was hell on a girl’s ego. Yet, with her daughter, he was basically a six-and-a-half-foot teddy bear.