Copper (Hell's Handlers MC 4)

He was feeling pretty relaxed at that moment. The past year had been rough on the club, but in the end, they all came out mostly whole—though a little banged up—and tighter than ever as a club. This night was as much a celebration of the end of the Gray Dragons as it was Copper’s aging another year. The gang had been a burr on the Handlers’ collective ass for far too long, and they’d recently been torn to shreds courtesy of Copper and his men.

The only thing threatening to kill his buzz was the fact that Lefty, leader of the Gray Dragons gang, was still out there somewhere. Sure, he was in hiding, licking his oozing wounds, and no longer running a women-trafficking gang, but the fact of the matter was, the bastard still breathed.

And that was unacceptable in Copper’s eyes.

But it was also a worry for another night.

“Shell outdid herself with this party, man. You seen much of her tonight? She’s looking damn good,” Mav said with a fucking twinkle in his eye.

“Nah, not yet. I’m sure she’s around with the girls somewhere.” His men loved nothing more than busting his balls over Shell. She’d had a thing for him back in the day, and everyone was convinced he felt the same for her.

Which was insane.

She was sixteen fucking years younger than him. And his former president’s daughter. Beyond off limits. Sure, she was hot as fuck, sweet as sugar, and loved by every man in the club, but none of that trumped the fact she was untouchable by him. Besides, ever since she’d returned to Townsend about a year ago, she no longer seemed interested in him in that way. She worked two jobs, raised her daughter, and kept her head down, driving him nuts with her independence and constant refusal of help. She didn’t seem to have a spare second in her life for a man. Especially not an older man with the baggage of running an MC. Not that he was interested in the spot. No, the fact that she seemed to have gotten over her schoolgirl crush on him was for the best.

Exactly how he wanted it.

Exactly how it had to be.

Jesus. “Get me another fucking shot,” he growled at the laughing idiots who claimed to be his loyal brothers. Fuck that, they’d probably pick Shell over him if it came down to it.

Not that he could blame them. She was the perfect combination of sweetness and biker babe all wrapped in one sexy as sin little package.

“Here you go,” LJ, one of the prospects said as he passed out another round of Patrón.

“Listen up, you fuckers!” Maverick shouted from across the room. He gave his woman, Stephanie, a sloppy kiss, then climbed up onto the bar, shot in hand.

“Don’t fall, dickwad!” Zach yelled. “No one here who could cart your scrawny ass to the hospital tonight.”

“S’all good,” Mav slurred, wobbling on the bar.

“Careful, baby,” Stephanie said with a giggle.

Shit, the whole club was a fumbling mess. But it was damn good to see everyone partying and tension-free for the first time in ages.

“Wanna make a toast to the Prez. All you fuckers get those glasses up.”

Cheers and boot stomps rang out across the clubhouse. From the corner of his eye, Copper caught sight of Shell exiting the bathroom. As she made her way back into the main room, one of the prospects handed her a shot. She smiled at him, accepted it, and said something that had him kissing her on the cheek. And that made Copper’s fists clench. Kid’s days were numbered in the single digits.

Damn prospect needed to keep his fucking lips to himself.

He took a step in the prospect’s direction only to be stopped short by the sound of his name. “Copper! Where are you, Prez?” Mav asked.

With no choice but to abandon his plight to kill the Shell-groping prospect, he stepped forward. “Right here.”

The music dropped to a dull roar, and the crowd parted like the Red Sea, putting Copper in the spotlight.

“Everybody having a good night?” Mav asked.

Calls of, “Fuck yeah,” ran through the blitzed crowd. All eyes were on Copper. He was used to his men looking to him for direction and leadership, but not accustomed to being the center of a celebration. Still, it was damn nice to be appreciated.

“All right, raise those glasses,” Mav said, lifting his fully inked arm. “We’ll keep this short and sweet so you can all get back to drinking and fucking. But we do need to take a second to honor the man we’re all here to celebrate. Copper turns forty today, and I think we can all agree he is hands down the best president this club has ever seen.”

Everyone shouted and cheered while Copper waved away their praise. It wasn’t a job or a position to him. Love for the club flowed through his veins right alongside his blood. There’s nothing else he’d rather do than lead these men.