Zach (Hell's Handlers MC 1)

Along with Zach and Maverick, Rocket, the Sergeant at Arms was present. He was a mean motherfucker who didn’t speak much but seemed to notice any and everything that happened around him. His powers of observation were almost creepy. Rocket could get inside a man’s head and see things buried deep.

Jigsaw, the club’s treasurer, was last to arrive. Named for a nasty crisscross of scars on his left cheek that looked like puzzle pieces, he was the smartest fucker Zach knew. Much of his past was a mystery, but rumor had it he was some kind of NASA scientist in a previous life. Before his wife and child were killed in the attack that left him scarred.

“All right,” Copper said as soon as Jig’s ass hit the seat. “Let’s not waste time with bullshit agenda items. We all know why we’re here. Zach, tell me why there are motherfuckers pushing H through my town.”

All eyes turned to Zach and he cleared his throat. “Gray Dragons are—”

“Godfuckingdamnit!” Copper slammed his meaty fist down on the table, rattling the wood and tipping a full glass. Amber liquid splashed across the table and onto the floor, but no one made a move to clean it up. One of the girls would be tasked with the chore after the meeting. “Fucking Shark,” he said of the Gray Dragon’s current president.

Zach nodded. “It ain’t good, Prez. I spoke with one of Shark’s girls, or former girls, before I went to see Bill yesterday. She’s been hiding out from him. Finally wised up and left his ass. Only took a few broken bones, weekly beatings, and being passed around like a bad cold for her to get smart. I gave her some cash to disappear for a while.”

Copper nodded and dragged a hand through his hair. “Good work.” If there was one thing the man didn’t stand for, it was mistreatment of women. “Fucking disgusting.”

“Anyway, he’s upping his game, looking for more territory. Townsend is a great place to sell. Lots of tourists coming through. Constant new business. He’s also, uh…” This was the part Zach really dreaded telling Copper. “He also bought up a few debts owed to us.”

Jigsaw’s mouth turned down at that. As treasurer, he took the club’s finances—particularly money owed from lending—very seriously. “The fuck you mean?”

Zach stared at the puddle still expanding across the table. “Remember Bill Durant? Borrowed ten large and owes over twenty now?”

Jigsaw nodded, his charcoal eyes hardening with displeasure. He knew what was coming.

“Got a call from him earlier saying he had the money and was ready to pay. There was no fucking way. I was just there last night and he was sniveling and pissing himself over it. Said he needed more time, a few weeks. Then this morning he’s got it? Didn’t take too many threats for the pussy to spill. Dragons gave him the cash. He’s got two months to pay them back with only five percent interest.”

“They’ve got enough expendable cash to be loaning it out with such shit return?” Mav asked, clicking his tongue ring against his teeth.

“Looks like it.”

“Fuck,” Jig said.

“What’s the point?” Viper chimed in. “They’re loaning out money with a long grace period and shit interest. They ain’t gonna get rich doing that. It’s bad business.”

Jig shook his head and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Making money isn’t the point. Stealing our business is. Loan sharking is where we make fifty percent of our income. Word gets out they’re offering low interest and long payback periods, they’ll hijack all our business before you can scratch your nuts. It will cripple our bottom line and allow them to move in easily. Once they’ve gotten our customers, they can raise the rates and start pulling in what we were.”

“They the ones who fucked up our girls?” Copper asked.

Rocket hadn’t spoken yet, but that was pretty par for the course. Didn’t mean he wasn’t fully engaged. Nothing escaped his attention. He was just a quiet fucker, so it was a surprise when he said, “Fucking pieces of shit. Who else would it be?”

With a shrug, Zach leaned forward on his elbows. “Gut feeling says it’s them. But I don’t have proof yet. Carli’s been the most helpful and she said they all wore ski masks. No one spoke. Just jumped them as they were leaving. We’ve beefed up security at the strip club.”

Silence descended on the table. Copper ran a hand across his bottom lip, something he did when he was deep in thought. Made him a shit poker player, but a good president. He never acted rashly. Never made decisions based on emotion. He was rational, logical, and steady.

Except when it came to one gorgeous waitress and her adorable kiddo. Then he was a damn fool. Shell had been in love with Copper since she was old enough to notice he was a man. Probably even before. They had a complicated, twisted history with one constant. Copper refused to admit any feelings or attraction toward her. He had sixteen years on her and used it as a giant stick to keep beating her back. Poor kid was bound to reach her limit and latch on to someone else at some point, and then all hell would break loose, because whether he was willing to admit it or not, Copper had it bad for the girl.