Jigsaw (Hell's Handlers MC 3)

Jig had stayed away from the clubhouse for two whole weeks after Shell returned, unable to stand the sight of the child. Then, Mav showed up at his door and let him know what a shitheel he was being. So he sucked it up and pretended it didn’t gut him every time he saw that sweet, smiling face. He still avoided her at all costs but tried to keep Shell from noticing.

It had to be a damn dropkick to the heart for Copper the first time he saw the little girl with hair just a few shades lighter than his own. In her heartbreak, or loneliness, or whatever she’d call it, Shell must have fucked the first man who came along and reminded her of Copper. And then she got knocked up for her troubles. As far as he knew, the topic was never discussed between Shell and Copper, but it bred some resentment on Copper’s part. Not that Jig had any right to judge who and how people fucked. His own sexual preferences were the topic of discussion among his MC and their ol’ ladies despite how discrete he tried to be.

“Fuck, Cop, I’m sorry. Shouldn’t have thrown that at you.” The grip around his throat lessened until it disappeared and Copper stepped back.

“My fault,” Copper said. “Shouldn’t have implied you need to handle your grief in any specific way. Shit, brother, not sure I’d ever be functional again if I were you. You’re doing damn well, and if you need a few days each year to be a fucker, you go right ahead.”

Jig chuckled. It didn’t happen often, but once in a while, his brothers brought it out of him. “Nice job, Cop. Apologize and throw in an insult all in one shot.”

Copper laughed, his white teeth gleaming between the red of his beard. “Don’t want you to think I’m going soft on you, brother.” He waved a hand around, growing serious. “How’s this all going? We on schedule?”

With a nod, Jig pointed to the X he’d sprayed on the ground. “I’ve marked off three additional lookout spots. Add them to the two being constructed today, and I think I’m satisfied. Fence will be finished day after tomorrow, Mav installs the cameras this weekend, and we’ve got a few more irons in the fire we’ll get moving on next week.”

Scratching his beard, Copper sighed. “Good. I’ll feel better when that fucking fence is up. We’re stretching the guys real thin with watch schedules. At least when we’re secure on all sides, we can let up a bit.”

Jig grunted his agreement. “Any action from Lefty?”

“Been quiet over the last week or so,” Cop said as he shook his head. “Has me on fuckin pins and needles. I’d almost rather he make a fuckin move. At least I’d know where the bastard is and what he’s planning.”

Jig got that. The calm before the storm was stressful as fuck. Had most of the club on edge. Between the long hours patrolling the grounds, the grueling work during the day, and not knowing what the hell Lefty was planning, the brothers were like a rubber band being stretched farther each day. Sooner or later, it was going to snap.

“Maybe we need to stop playing defense and make our own move.” About two weeks ago, they’d caught one of Lefty’s men. He was one of the guys who’d almost taken Stephanie. After giving Maverick a chance to play with him, Copper and Zach took over and got the information confirming Stephanie’s story. Lefty had been planning an attack on the clubhouse. The only thing that had prevented it was Stephanie telling Copper what she’d heard. Since that day, the clubhouse had been guarded better than an army base. They weren’t on lockdown, but security had increased tenfold, and the ol’ ladies were accompanied everywhere they went, much to their chagrin.

Jig was getting tired of reacting to Lefty’s moves. It was time to act.

“I hear ya, Jig. I agree with you, too. I just want this place safer before we move forward.”

Well, he couldn’t fault him for that. Copper would give his life without thought for any of the men. The brotherhood was the most important thing in their president’s life. He was an excellent fucking leader. “I’m here, one hundred percent focused and present now. I won’t let anything else distract me. Give us another week, Cop.”

Copper stuck out his hand. “I can do that, brother.”

Jig shook his president’s hand and then got back to work, determined to finish ahead of schedule. Anything he could do to help lift the enormous weight of responsibility off Copper’s shoulders.

And now that he knew the only thing standing between him and a little Gray Dragon’s blood was completing the perimeter, he had even more motivation to hustle.