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Copper (Hell's Handlers MC 4)

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Copper bent forward and rested his free hand on his thigh. The news was a sledgehammer to the gut, in the best way possible. His knees almost buckled. Holy shit, this was fanfuckingtastic news. The best news.

“Cop? You there?”

“Yeah, brother, I’m here. I’m just… fuck, I don’t even know what I am.”

Rusty chuckled. “I hear you. About passed out cold when my lawyer told me the news. I ain’t supposed to be eligible for parole for another three years. But I guess I’ve been a good little boy. Combine that with overcrowding and boom, I’m out. Look, I only got a minute left here, but I’ll be getting you more info as the date gets closer, okay?”

“Sounds good, little brother. We’ll be riding out to get you. Whole club. And we’ll bring your bike so you can ride home with us. Can’t wait to see you,” Copper said, straightening and looking through the windows into the diner. Shell was wiping down a spot at the counter with her shoulders drooping and no smile in sight. He had to fix that mess he’d made, but at least he was in a good mood now.

“Yeah, yeah,” Rusty said with a laugh. “Guess I’m looking forward to seeing you too. I’m really looking forward to fucking my way through the Honeys. You better have some new pussy on board since I’ve been there.”

“We do, brother. Promise you won’t be disappointed. Take care of yourself in there.”

“Always,” Rusty said.

Copper disconnected the call then re-entered the diner and headed straight for his brothers.

“Musta been a good fucking phone call, Prez. You look like you just got blown or some shit. And we all know that didn’t happen,” Mav said, making the other two dipshits laugh. Mav had the kind of mouth that made people either bust a gut or want to strangle him. Wasn’t hard to guess which way Copper was leaning at the moment.

Rusty’s news had him flying so high, he didn’t bother to go after Mav. As he folded his big body back into the small booth, he rubbed his palms together. “Just got some good news, boys. Damn good news.”

“What’s that?” Zach said as he stuffed a monster sized bite of bacon in his mouth.

“Rusty is getting out early on good behavior. He’ll be home in two months.”

“Holy shit!” Mav said with a smile. “That is good news.”

“Congratulations, brother,” Zach said. “Pretty spectacular birthday present right there.”

“You’re telling me,” Copper said. He polished off the last sip of his lukewarm coffee then looked at Jig. He’d been silent since the announcement, though that wasn’t entirely surprising. Jig and Rusty hadn’t ever stated their dislike of one another, but they weren’t close either. Though to be fair, Jig hadn’t been too close to many of the guys until recently, when he got an ol’ lady. Izzy was dragging the man out of his shell and turning him into someone who was actually fun to be around.

As he’d been before, Jig was looking at something over Copper’s shoulder. Copper peeked, and once again encountered the shocked face of Shell. Only this time, she didn’t bother with a shitty faux smile.

“Refill?” she asked in a hoarse voice.

“Please.” Copper held up his cup and looked her straight in the eye. It wasn’t hard to smile at her. He was flying so high off Rusty’s announcement. She met his gaze but didn’t return the grin. He’d be groveling later, that was for sure. Maybe he’d take Beth for a few hours after Shell got off work. The woman never had more than thirty seconds to herself in a day. Giving her some time to take a bath, drink some wine, and watch TV or whatever shit women did when they were alone ought to get him out of the dog house.

Despite being on her bad side, Copper couldn’t help but feel great.

Rusty was coming home.

CHAPTER THREE

“MOMMY! I’M SO, so hungry!” Beth shouted from her bedroom. “My belly is yelling at me so loud.”

Shell rolled her eyes as she pulled an apple out of the refrigerator. “All right, hold your horses, Bethy. I’ll get you a snack.”

“I don’t have any horses, Mommy. Where are the horses?”

With a chuckle, she grabbed the gallon jug of milk and set it on the counter. “Never mind about the horses. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll bring you something to eat.”

“But I want to hold the horses.” Beth’s voice had the whiny, I’m-about-to-throw-a-fit quality that warned of impending loudness.

Shell glanced up at the white ceiling. Give me strength. “How about an apple with peanut butter?”

“Yesss!” Crisis averted. Oh, the power of distraction. Sometimes four-year-olds were so easy. And sometimes they were the fiercest opponent in the world.

Shell dug through the cabinet overflowing with kiddie cups and plates until she found one of the Elsa cups. Over the past week, Beth had refused to drink from anything other than a cup with a Frozen theme. Some battles weren’t worth the effort, so Shell let her have that one. As she poured the milk into the cup, the doorbell rang, startling the hell out of her. She jerked so hard, the jug hit the cup and knocked it over. Milk sloshed directly onto the front of her sweatshirt.



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