Maverick (Hell's Handlers MC 2)

“Please excuse the appearance. As you know, we’re just getting up and running. Have a seat. Beer okay?”

Mav didn’t give a fuck what they were drinking. He wanted this meeting over and done as fast as possible. He didn’t like being a fly in the spider’s lair even though he knew Lefty’s web was flimsy at best.

“That works,” Copper said, taking a seat. His colossal frame looked hilarious on the rickety folding chair. Any other time, Mav would have been tossing out some great one-liners to get under Copper’s skin.

“Want to thank you boys,” Lefty said after a Hispanic guy with an eyepatch delivered their drinks. “Shark had been losing his shit at a rapid clip. Getting sloppy, losing business, making enemies.” He gave Copper a pointed look. “He needed to be taken out.”

“Didn’t do it for you,” Copper said. “He was moving in on our territory, kidnapped one of my men.” He didn’t glance at Maverick or give any indication he was the one Shark had taken. “Fucked with my enforcer’s woman.” This time, he jerked his thumb in Zach’s direction.

As enforcer, Zach often had the privilege of beating the shit out of assholes who owed the Handlers significant sums of money. His preferred method of delivering those love taps was Louie, an aluminum Louisville Slugger. As Copper spoke, Zach rolled Louie back and forth under the palm of his hand. His face had darkened, no doubt at memories of the abuse Toni had suffered at Shark’s hand flooded in.

“Uh, right, of course.” Lefty squirmed in his chair, his eyes shifting between the Handlers. Tough pill to swallow, realizing you weren’t top dog in a meeting in your own house.

“Wanted to come by today to lay down a few ground rules. You know, so we can coexist peacefully,” Copper said before taking a swig from his bottle. Lounging back in his chair, he gave the appearance of a man who was relaxed, enjoying his beer, chatting with friends. Mav and Zach both knew he was anything but. Copper didn’t miss a trick and was in complete control at all times. Except when it came to Shell.

“Sure, sure. What’d you have in mind?” Lefty squirmed in his chair then adjusted his ridiculous bandana.

“First, stay the fuck out of our territory. That means no drugs, no bullshit, no anything. I don’t want to see any Dragons dealing on my corners or driving through my town. Hell, I don’t want to see ’em walking through the park eating a fucking ice cream cone. Don’t give a shit what you do on your own turf, but you don’t set one single toe in mine. Get me?”

Lefty’s posture grew stiff and he leaned forward in his chair. “Of course. We got nothing but respect for the Handlers. Don’t want to make any trouble with you guys. We stay on our turf, you stay on yours.” He gave Copper a questioning look.

With a nod, Copper said, “Goes both ways. After today, we’ll stay out of your territory as well.”

It had to be killing Lefty to agree to the terms, but the fucker had no choice. As of now, he didn’t have the manpower to go against Copper. That might change in the future, but that was a worry for another day. “That all?” Lefty asked.

“Let the fucking girl go,” Copper said.

Any remaining friendliness vanished from Lefty’s face, replaced by a hardness that made him the leader. “Don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, Copper.”

Copper leaned forward and rested his thick forearms on the table. None of the Dragons could tell from looking at him, but Zach and Mav knew him well enough to recognize he was seething inside. Seconds away from blowing. It didn’t often happen. In fact, Mav could only recall one instance when Copper truly lost his shit, but it sure as fuck wasn’t pretty. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, asshole. Skin trade is over. I will not tolerate it, and you won’t survive a war. Let the girl go.”

Lefty’s face grew an unhealthy shade of red, but what could he do? He was backed in a corner, and he knew it. Still, he shifted his eyes to a man behind Mav. The guy transferred his weight from one leg to the other, ever so slightly, and slid his hand between his shirt and his jacket.

Having spent most of his life peeking over his shoulder for an attack, Mav was prepared. He had his pistol out and a foot from Lefty’s head in seconds. When Zach slammed Louie against the metal table, the ear-splitting bang made Lefty jump.

“Skittish much?” Mav asked at the same time Zach said, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Lefty froze and shifted his gaze to Zach, who stared at the man behind Lefty. The man who hadn’t had enout time to draw his own weapon.