Viper (Hell's Handlers MC 9)

“I will, thank you. And, uh, you can call me Mak.”

Satisfied for the moment, Cassie squeezed her hand once again. She and the gang had bombarded the girl enough for one day. Time to give her a little space and a chance to process the changes in her life. Hopefully the greatest of which would end up being a strong group of female friends. “Have a good afternoon, Mak.”

When Cassie reached her car, she paused before climbing in. Today she felt lighter than she had in a while. Maybe it came from knowing she wouldn’t be living all alone in a too big house for much longer. Maybe it was helping Mak. She’d always loved mothering her chicks, especially the women of the club. Viper indulged her constant desire to feed the members and their families as well as her frequent worrying over everyone’s wellbeing. What could she say? She was a nurturer at heart, happiest when loving on her people.

Maybe the bright feeling came simply from the warmth of the sun, heating her skin. Early spring always brought with it a sense of renewal and promise. Cassie tipped her head back and inhaled the fresh mountain air. When her lungs filled to capacity, she froze and whipped her head from right to left.

What the hell?

If someone had offered her a million dollars, she’d swear up, down, and backward the scent of Irish Spring soap lingered in the air. Viper had used the basic bar soap his entire life no matter how many times she’d teased him or how hard she tried to get him to switch to something else. Never had she bothered to tell him how much the familiar scent comforted her, but Viper was no dummy. The man probably knew just how often she smelled his towels after he dried off from a shower. Or how frequently she inhaled his scent when he wrapped those strong arms around her. She’d bet cold hard cash he only used the soap because she associated the scent with him.

Odd she would sense it now. Over the past two weeks she’d learned the power of the human mind. Especially one suffering with heavy grief.

There was always a different option. One she was almost afraid to believe.

Viper was there with her, watching over her, loving her.

The thought of this was so precious, she’d feel like she was losing him all over again if she gave into it only to find a logical reason for the sensation. But as Cassie climbed into her car with a renewed sense of hope and something to look forward to thanks to Shell and Copper, she swore the breeze blew whispered words across the mountains.

I loved you yesterday, I love you today, and I’ll love you tomorrow whether you’re here with me or waiting on me among the stars.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

PRESENT DAY - TENNESSEE - 2 WEEKS LATER

“Well that’s the last of it,” Jazz said as she stood in the open entrance to Cassie’s house. “I sent my guys on ahead, so I’ll ride with you, if that’s okay?”

“Yeah, that’s perfect.” Cassie smiled at her friend who looked absolutely adorable in camo leggings, and a fitted black Hell’s Handlers tank top. A red bandana topped off the look, wrapped around her short hair like a headband. Not long ago, Jazz wouldn’t have been caught dead showing off her arms, thanks to the multiple scars inflicted by her stepbrother in a psychotic fit of rage.

Though she’d probably still wear long sleeves out in public, it was wonderful to see this woman feeling comfortable in her own skin and confident enough to reveal her scars to her family. Much of that newfound confidence could be attributed to Jazmine’s two men and their constant assurance of just how gorgeous and desirable they found her. Scars and all.

Cassie spared a glance at her own outfit, an old, beat-up T-shirt of Viper’s, her most comfortable and well broken in jeans, and a healthy layer of dust and grime. Her days of looking like a cute twenty-something even when sweaty and filthy were long gone. She didn’t even mourn the loss of those years anymore; it’d just been that long.

She was good with her nearing-sixty self. Though she wouldn’t turn her nose up at a shower.

Moving was nasty work. Even if the men did most—okay all—of the heavy lifting.

“I just did a walk through and I think we got everything.”

“Great.” Jazz pushed away from the door with a wince. “Oh, please tell me you’re as tired as I am and I’m not just as out of shape as it seems.”

Chuckling, Cassie walked toward her friend and threw an arm around her shoulders. “I’m exhausted. My aches have aches.”

Jazz wrapped her arms around Cassie and gave a gentle squeeze. Everyone was overly careful with her these days due to the weight she’d lost and how frail she looked, but they managed to pull it off without being overtly obvious. The subtly was greatly appreciated. No one wanted to be reminded of their physical decline again and again. “Well, I don’t want you to hurt, but I’m glad it’s not just me. Screw laughed his ass off when I told him I was sore.” She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Not all of us bathe in protein powder and eat dumbbells for breakfast while bench-pressing elephants.”