Little Jack (Hell's Handlers MC 6)

With a lighter heart than he should have had given the circumstances, LJ began the search of his room with his minimally used closet. He rifled through his belongings as fast as possible while remaining thorough. Though he’d been staying at the clubhouse since things went sour with Holly, he hadn’t been within spitting distance of Carli. The female snake didn’t begin to tempt him and that was before he’d known she had the balls to betray the club. The fool would be lucky if Copper let her live until the next sunrise.

Of course, he’d have to be a free man to go after her. Fuck, Shell would be destroyed if Copper got himself locked up.

With a huff of frustration, he slammed the closet door closed. There went the good vibes.

Next, he ransacked his own dresser only to come up empty there as well. Nothing on the small bookshelf across from his bed either. Three minutes left if Holly’s timeline was correct. Just as he was about to leave the room and check on his brothers’ progress, his eyes fell to his bed.

Tightly made thanks to years in the Navy, there was no way she could have hidden something under the covers. Besides, he’d slept there, alone last night and would have noticed a brick of meth next to him. Yet something scratching at the back of his neck kept him from ignoring the bed. After stripping the sheets, he flipped the mattress, giving it a good once over.

“Well, I’ll be a motherfucker,” he whispered. Sure enough, something sharp had been used to slice a slit in the mattress. When he stuck his fingers through the slash, he encountered a plastic bag. One good tug had the fucking drugs in LJ’s hands

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispered as he righted the mattress. Time being his enemy at the moment, he tossed the bedding on the mattress. When the cops came to search his room, they’d find a messy bed that looked like it’d been recently fucked in. And if they found the hole in the mattress? So fucking be it. There weren’t any drugs to be found in there, so what the fuck could they bust him for? Destroying furniture?

Meth in hand, LJ jogged back downstairs and straight into the chapel. Holly, who of course hadn’t waited by the bar as instructed, sat at the table, chewing her poor thumbnail to bits.

“Got it,” LJ called out as he entered and walked straight to Holly. “Holy fuck balls.”

“Yeah, what I said,” Mav added.

Laid out on the table were four more gallon-sized bags, identical to the one LJ had found in his room. None of them weighed much, maybe a pound a piece, but there were fucking five.

Zach entered the room and let out a low whistle. “That’s a lotta ice, boys,” he said.

“How much you think?” Copper asked.

Zach bit the inside of his cheek as he scratched his chin. Then he picked up a bag. “We’re talking a pound here. Could be a little over that. Shit, Cop, each of these bags could net up to twenty Gs. We’re talking a hundred big ones. Carli musta brought this in over a few weeks. Someone sure wants to see us burn for this.”

“I’m so sorry,” Holly whispered.

LJ dropped in the seat next to her. “Shit, sugar, none of this is on you. You just saved our asses big time here.”

“Not that I don’t love a good schmoop fest,” Mav said. “But we’re working on borrowed time here. Sheriff’s gonna be here any second. What the fuck do we do with this shit that now has our prints all over it?”

“Thunder!” Copper barked out.

The prospect snapped to attention. “Yeah, prez?”

“Here.” Copper tossed him a black backpack. “Fill it and run it out to the box. There’s a crowbar in the corner. Use it to pry the lid off the drain. Toss this shit in there and cover it back up. Stay down there until one of us comes for you.”

“On it,” he said as he stuffed the last of the packages in the backpack, then took off running.

“What’s the box?” Holly asked with a quiver in her voice.

“You don’t wanna know, sweetie,” Mav said with a wink.

Holly looked to LJ. “It’s basically an underground bunker the club uses to handle…sensitive issues.”

“You’re right, Mav, I didn’t want to know.” Holly dropped her head to the table with a groan. A few of the guys laughed and the tension relief couldn’t have come at a better time. Just as LJ soothed his palm up Holly’s spine, a loud banging sounded from the front door of the clubhouse. The kind of heavy-handed knock only made by one kind of person. A cop.

“Open the fuck up!” Schwartz shouted.

When no one made a move to welcome the cops into the building, the pounding continued followed by, “Coming in hot!”