With a snort, LJ, said, “Bet she had some choice words about that.”
Zach and Rocket snickered while Copper rolled his eyes. “Don’t feel comfortable repeating it with kids in the room.” He glanced at Biscuit.
LJ laughed. Copper was officially the worst at curbing his language around Shell’s daughter, Beth. The four-year-old spitfire called him out on it daily. “What do you need from me?”
The apartment grew silent except for the gentle rumble of Biscuit’s snore. A ripple of unease crawled up LJ’s spine.
Fuck.
Something was up.
Copper stroked his bearded chin. “You’ve been hanging with the sheriff’s daughter.”
And now the unease turned to straight-up dread.
“I have…” Suddenly this visit felt more like an ambush.
The sigh that left Copper was heavy with the weight of running the club. Being the head of the tight-knit group couldn’t be easy on a good day, now throw in an overeager sheriff gunning for them, and it was a shock the man was as calm as he appeared. The men he led, the brothers in the club, were a family. And Copper took his role as head of the family deathly seriously. Which meant he suffered when his family was under attack.
Suffered and turned near feral in his desire to protect his family.
And that’s why LJ knew the next words out of his prez’s mouth were going to suck.
“The sheriff doesn’t have any skeletons in his closet. At least none we’ve found yet. Sure, he’s spent his career destroying clubs like ours, but it was all above board.”
“Bullshit,” LJ said. “He’s been harassing us with drummed-up claims. There’s no way he didn’t pull the same shit or worse throughout his career.”
With a nod, Copper said, “I agree. He’s just covered his tracks well. Which brings us back to you. And his daughter.” As Copper let that weighted statement hang in the air, he studied LJ. So did Zach and Rocket.
He felt like a bug under a microscope. One headed for a good squashing.
“Where’s shit at with her?” Copper asked, then shook his head. Before LJ had a chance to answer, he spoke again. “Fuck it, I ain’t beatin’ around the bush. Need to know if you’re willing to pump her for information.”
“Bet he’s pumping her for something,” Zach muttered.
“You trying to be fucking Maverick now?” Copper asked with a scowl, but his chest rippled with restrained laughter.
Zach shrugged. “Sorry. Too good to pass up.”
As was typical, Rocket remained quiet through the exchange. His silence shouldn’t ever be mistaken for apathy or stupidity, however. His intense gaze studied LJ. The entire time, LJ’s stomach was rolling and his mind was reeling as he struggled to come up with a way to refuse the first favor his president ever asked of him.
Until that very moment, he’d have said Copper could ask anything of him and he’d do it without hesitation. He respected his president enough to trust in his leadership without question.
But now? Faced with the possibility of betraying Holly? Now he was well and truly fucked. It’d be over. Whatever he and Holly were to each other would end the moment she found out he was using her for information. And could she even provide it? Shit with her father wasn’t exactly roses at the moment, all because of the club.
Christ, what kind of fucker would he be to ask her to remedy her relationship with her father—which was only strained because of him—only to turn around and use that repaired relationship to betray her?
“Well, I guess that answers that,” Copper said. It was hard to tell because of the thickness of his beard, but LJ swore his prez smirked.
“What?”
Zach snorted. “You’ve been quiet for about four minutes with this look of panic on your face. Guessing you’re trying to figure out how to hand over a big fat fucking no.”
Goddammit. “No,” LJ said. “I’m just—”
Copper held up a hand. “Relax. I ain’t gonna force you to do shit.” He sighed and stroked his beard. “It was an idea I had to float. Wasn’t sure how you felt about her. If you guys were just fucking and shit…” He shrugged then gave LJ a shit-eating grin. “Didn’t know you were falling for this chick.”
“What? No. No falling. Just hanging out.” Falling for her? Ridiculous. He liked her, liked fucking her. End of story.
Liar.
Rocked barked out a laugh. So nice of him to finally join the conversation. LJ flipped him off.
“Look, I saw a potential opportunity. I’d be a shit president if I didn’t at least see where your head was about this girl. I ain’t gonna press you to do shit, LJ. You’ve got nothing to prove to me. You spent fifteen months earning my respect and proving your loyalty to my club. This ain’t some kinda test. That shit is over. You’re patched, you’re a brother, and you’re free to speak your mind. I’ll tell you right now, had someone asked me to manipulate and use Shell, I’d have told them to go fuck themselves, president or not.”