Copper (Hell's Handlers MC 4)

So much for not blabbing. For a moment, Shell had the crazy idea of swiping Joe’s car keys and zooming off in his sedan just to avoid Copper’s ire. It’d never work, though. The man would just be waiting for her when she returned.

“And what business would that be?” Copper’s eyes narrowed more by the second, and his shoulders grew more rigid. He was working up to a serious mad, and Shell had a pretty good idea who was going to be in the direct path of hurricane Copper when it hit.

“The business of debt repayment. Only one I engage in.” Joe slapped his palm on the top of his car twice then slipped into the driver’s seat. “See you around, Copper. Shell,” he said with a lift of his chin, “Pleasure as always. See you next month.”

All she could do was nod and watch as Joe drove off leaving her with one pissed off mountain of a biker.

“Wanna tell me why the enforcer for one of the most notorious drug dealers in the east is hitting you up for money? At night? When you’re home alone with your daughter? And it’s dark as fuck. Christ, what the fuck are you wearing? It’s fucking freezing out here.”

He hadn’t opened his mouth once but spoke through a jaw so tight he’d crack a tooth if he didn’t ease up. God, he looked so solid, so formidable standing there, legs wide, arms crossed, muscles bulging under his leather jacket and dark-wash jeans. If only she could dive into his arms, have him wrap her up and promise it would all be okay. Absorb some of that strength so she could stop pretending she was a pillar herself. But that wasn’t her reality. Her life consisted of managing the very delicate web of secrets and lies she’d been balancing for too many years. And one of those secrets was about to be blasted into the open. There was no way Copper would let this go until he knew every single detail.

That didn’t mean she wouldn’t at least try to escape telling him. “I’m not sure that’s any of your business, Copper.” She turned and trudged back up the driveway toward her door.

“Michelle Elizabeth Ward, don’t you dare walk that bite-able ass one more step without answering me.” His deadly voice boomed into the quiet night, so full of menace she probably would have been frightened if he were anyone else. But Copper would never hurt her. Yell at her? Piss her off? Hell yeah, he’d do those things.

But never harm her.

Slowly, she spun on her heel. “Excuse me, Aiden Whatever Gallagher,” she said, jamming her hands on her hips. Did he even have a middle name? Didn’t matter. She loved Copper’s real name and often wished she could call him Aiden all the time. “Who the hell do you think you are coming to my house at night and issuing orders?”

He stalked forward until all snorting and snarling six feet five inches of him towered over her measly five-foot-two frame. Fire blazed in his eyes, but something else too. Worry. He was worried about her. And that concern is what gave her pause and made her wave her arm and say, “Follow me inside. Let’s not give my neighbors any more of a show tonight, huh? At least not until we decide to sell tickets. After today, I could use the money,” she mumbled under her breath.

Copper took his obligations as president of the MC very seriously. And he felt his reach extended to each and every family member of his men. It was why he and the MC had kept in such close contact with her even after her father died and she was no longer officially attached to the club. Last thing she wanted was to add to his heaping pile of responsibility, but fighting him would only make things worse. Eventually, she’d cave, and in the meantime, she’d put him through unnecessary worry and concern.

Wait…did he just call her ass bite-able?

Yeah, that’s what she needed to be focusing on.

Once they were in the house and Copper had locked the deadbolt behind them, she motioned him toward her couch. “Have a seat. I’ll get us a couple of beers. Unless you want coffee.”

He stared at her for a second, as though assessing whether she was going to fall over, then nodded. “Beer works. Thanks, babe.”

She grabbed Copper’s favorite beer from her fridge—yes, she kept it on hand just for him—then took her time uncapping them. Gave her a minute to gather her thoughts and prepare for the verbal smackdown. “Time to face the music,” she murmured.

When she returned to the small living room, she paused in the doorway and soaked in the sight of the man she’d loved since she was a teenager and had no business wanting.