Copper (Hell's Handlers MC 4)

“Yeah? Well, what about your nipples?” He sounded like a psycho. And this had nothing to do with Joe, why he was here, or what Shell was hiding from him. But the thought of Joe gawking at her body, getting hard over the sight of her, or even being near her was making him insane.

Because Joe was a sadistic enforcer for a drug kingpin. Not because Copper was jealous.

“My nipples?” she squeaked as her face grew bright pink. She crossed her arms over her breasts and looked at anything but him. “It’s cold out,” she muttered.

“Fuck,” Copper practically growled. “Forget it. Just tell me why Joe was here.”

Staring at the blank television screen, Shell said, “The first Monday of each month, he shows up at eight fifteen on the dot to collect one thousand dollars from me. Has since a month after I moved back home.” The confession was uttered low enough he had to strain to hear it.

“You fucking kidding me? You’ve been back over a year!” Copper exploded forward, off the loveseat, drawing a yip of surprise from Shell.

Her slender shoulders, the ones that carried so much weight, slumped and her eyes grew glassy with unshed tears. The sight of her so close to crying is what doused the flames of Copper’s anger. Sure, he still felt like a simmering volcano, but he needed to rein it in if he didn’t want to cause her more upset. This problem of hers would be taken care of. Shell wouldn’t pay another dime to Joe. The Handlers would make damn sure of that, as they would have right off the bat if she’d come to them in the first place.

Damn stubborn woman.

Copper returned to the loveseat, stuffing himself in the space he’d occupied before. She’d left him more than half the tiny sofa, but it was still a tight fit, and her crossed knees ended up resting on his thigh. The woman needed bigger furniture. At least the news of how much money she’d forked over killed his boner.

One thousand dollars every month. It gnawed at him like a vulture tearing flesh from his bones. No wonder she worked herself raw yet always seemed to be without. He cupped her cheek. She sucked in a breath, meeting his gaze. “Look, babe, I came here because I heard Beth was sick and I wanted to check on you. See if you needed anything. If I promise not to react like that again, will you tell me the rest?”

Shell nodded, and one tear sprung free. With a huff, she blinked fast, as though angry at herself for allowing the weakness. Weak, shit, Shell was hands down the strongest woman he knew.

Copper groaned. “Please don’t cry, babe. It’ll fucking kill me.” He caught the runaway drop with his thumb as it trickled down her cheek.

She gave him a wobbly smile. “Apparently, right before Dad was killed, he’d received fifty thousand dollars in heroin from whoever it is Joe works for. I don’t even know who runs the show.”

“Really?” Copper scratched at his beard. It’d been over a decade since Sarge had been murdered, but that info didn’t ring any bells. Sarge had gotten the club involved in drugs a few years after Copper prospected. They’d sold dope, heroin, cocaine, and on occasion prescription pills, but never that much at once. It’d been something he never agreed with, and that business dragged the club through a few bloody years. After Sarge’s death, Copper ended the club’s involvement with pushing drugs.

Shell shrugged. “So he says. It’s not like I can verify it now. But he claims they never got paid for it. Joe says the drugs were given to Dad on good faith because they had a long-term relationship with him. He was supposed to make a payment the day after he was killed. They never got his money, and when they sent someone around to look for the drugs, they were never found.”

“So now that you’re older and back in town, they want their money.”

“Exactly,” Shell said with a nod. “Plus interest, of course.”

Copper snorted. “Of course. Jesus, ten fucking years of interest.” Hell, he ran a loan sharking business. He was no stranger to demanding repayment or forcing it when necessary. But there was one difference. Everyone who borrowed from him did so one hundred percent willingly. And if something happened, the Handlers didn’t go after a single mom to collect.

“They go looking to your mother for it first?”

That had Shell laughing. “You serious? She doesn’t have two pennies to rub together. And it’s no secret she wants nothing to do with the club. Joe may be an asshole, but he’s not stupid. He knew where to go. I’m easy prey.” She shrugged. “Just threaten Beth, and I’ll pretty much do anything anyone asks.”