Zach (Hell's Handlers MC 1)

“Fine,” Zach said after a few minutes. Then he looked to Copper. “But she stays out of the building and as far as fucking possible from Shark. I don’t want that motherfucker anywhere near her.”

Copper nodded.

“And we take him back here. Alive. I want fifteen minutes alone with him.”

Toni inhaled a sharp breath. This was a discussion she probably shouldn’t be hearing. Club business and all that. It was also something she should protest. But she didn’t. Who knew how many women Shark had abused through the years? She’d been too young, scared, stupid, and screwed up to do anything at the time, but she could help end it now. She could help ensure he never harmed another woman again.

Copper’s gaze flicked to Toni then back to Zach. “You got it.”

Toni glanced around the room at the determined faces of the Handlers. Each one would like a crack at Shark, but they’d leave it for Zach because they saw her as his woman.

It was a lot to process.

Zach cupped the back of her neck. “Why don’t you head on out to the bar and relax while we plan. Shell should be there.”

She nodded and Zach pulled her in for a quick firm kiss.

As she left the room, something that had been dancing at the edges of her mind fought its way to the forefront.

How the hell did Chris get his hands on a video file of Shark’s?

Chapter Twenty-Three

It had been over a decade since Zach left the army, but some shit stayed with a man for life. Like the ability to silently creep through the forest with the butt of a rifle secured against his shoulder. Granted, jungle training took a back seat to desert drills, but there were quite a few places in the world where it came in handy, so it was still practiced.

Over and over.

For years.

Until it became as second nature as scratching his balls.

As a young enlisted soldier, it sucked. Now? As he tiptoed through the dense backwoods of Tennessee with an M16, yeah, he was damn grateful for muscle memory and all those drill sergeants who rode his ass over the years.

“’Bout a hundred feet up. Twelve o’clock.” Rocket’s eager voice came through his com unit. The former Marine loved this shit. Sometimes it surprised Zach he didn’t join some swat team after he left the corps. Then he remembered Rocket’s hatred for authority, which was the reason he’d left the Marine Corps in the first place. It was a testament to Copper’s leadership that Rocket was willing to fall in line and obey orders.

The Handlers were spread out, making their way toward the Gray Dragon’s compound. Six of the men had done at least one tour in the military and the other four were just crazy motherfuckers who’d jump at any chance to get in on some action.

About two hours ago, the sun had set, throwing a thick blanket of darkness over the entire area. The only reason any of the men could see was thanks to Rocket and some crazy ass connections.

After hours of planning, Rocket had placed a call to someone and within forty-five minutes, com units and night vision goggles were waiting for them at a warehouse outside of town. Didn’t matter where they came from, which was good because Rocket would never out his source. All that mattered was when they needed the shit, it was there.

Weapons were even easier to obtain. The club had plenty of those stashed in an underground vault beneath the clubhouse.

“I got eyes on two rooftop guards. No one on the ground,” Rocket said.

“Copy. Same,” Zach replied as the old cabin came into view. The building pretty much fit Toni’s description to a tee. One story, boxy log cabin in a clearing. Nothing fancy. According to Toni, the place had four bedrooms. It was used by the higher ups in the gang. A place for them to party and engage in some of their more questionable recreational activities.

Shark’s great grandfather had died a few months after Toni started dating Shark. At the time, he’d been working to prove himself to the gang’s leadership and he offered the house up for use by the inner circle in exchange for a seat at the table.

The property wasn’t listed anywhere as owned by Shark or the gang, which explained why so few people knew its whereabouts. Low level gang bangers weren’t even allowed on the premises, per Toni. They had to be initiated into the inner circle or some shit before they were invited. Unless they were guarding the place.

For men in the gang, getting a golden ticket to Shark’s love nest meant offing someone of his choice. For women…well, it meant being fucked by the top three leaders in the gang. If a man wanted his woman to be invited to the compound he had to give her up to the leadership.