Copper (Hell's Handlers MC 4)

Copper sat behind the desk. Rusty strode in two seconds later. “Sup, Cop.”

“Just checking in after yesterday. You were pretty steamed when you took off.”

Rusty shrugged. “Wasn’t nothing. I’m over it.” He moved into the room and took an empty seat. “But I still think you’re missing an opportunity for some big fucking paydays.”

“Selling meth?”

“Meth, heroin, Molly, whatever the fuck the people want.” Rusty propped his boots on the edge of the desk.

“Club’s been down that road already brother. Nearly destroyed us. Destroys most clubs or gangs in the end.”

With a laugh, Rusty said, “So? You earn enough, and it don’t matter. Don’t you ever get fucking sick of managing these assholes?”

“No.” Voice hard, Copper stared at his brother. “You want out, Rust? That what your shit attitude is about? Done with MC life? If that’s it, grow some fuckin’ balls and tell me. Until then, shut the fuck up and start acting like you wanna be here. Got it?”

Rusty stood and tossed his smoldering cigarette into Copper’s ashtray. “Fuck this shit,” he said. “Need some fucking pussy.” He tromped out of the office. “Becky!” he shouted. “Five minutes, in my room, on your knees.”

That went well. Copper pinched the bridge of his nose where an ache seemed to start and shoot out across his forehead. The day would have been much better if he could have stayed in bed with his woman.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

THE PERFECT OPPORTUNITY had been presented to Shell, and she’d chickened out.

Big time.

The entire time she’d been in bed with Copper listening to his phone call about the stolen money, her mind had been screaming at her to confess what she’d seen. To share her information about Rusty. But the words wouldn’t leave her mouth. Part of it was fear due to Rusty’s very real threats. Part of it was her desire to comfort an agitated Copper at that moment instead of adding to his heavy burdens by ruining his relationship with his brother. And a third part was the paralyzing fear that once she opened her mouth, she’d never stop talking and would vomit out her entire horrifying past which would effectively put an end to her relationship with Copper.

Could she be more selfish?

While she’d been riding them both to an explosive release, Shell had convinced herself she’d made the right decision. Her man had needed her to ground him. He’d needed her to take the edge off so he could meet his club having a clear head and calm emotions. But now, a few hours later, she saw her actions for what they really were—cowardice and selfishness.

What the hell was she supposed to do now?

“Girl,” Izzy said, sidling up beside the treadmill Shell was currently running on. “What’s going on with you this morning? You barely said two words in the car, and now you’re running like the devil himself is chasing down your ass.”

She was right. Shell panted as she pumped her legs faster than she ever had before to keep up with the speed of the revolving belt. Screw it. The run wasn’t helping to escape her thoughts or settle her anxiety. She jammed her forefinger on the minus button until she slowed to a swift walk. Legs aching with exhaustion, she wanted nothing more than to lie down and take a nap.

“Izzy, how are you ten weeks pregnant and still have this much energy?” Shell asked as she slowed the treadmill further. “You’re supposed to be sick to your stomach and falling asleep all over the place.” She hit the stop button, hopped off the machine, then flopped onto a mat directly behind the row of cardio equipment.

Her friend didn’t seem to mind that Shell had ignored her question. “That how you were?” Izzy hovered over Shell’s head, hands on her hips, peering down.

“Not the sick part, but I was constantly tired for the first few months. Didn’t matter if I slept twelve straight hours, I could barely keep my eyes open throughout the day.”

“Huh,” Izzy said, extending a hand toward Shell. “At night I’m more tired than usual, but I feel pretty good during the day.”

“How nice for you.” Shell allowed a snickering Izzy to tug her to her feet. The OB had informed her friend she was strictly forbidden to fight in the ring, even sparring was off limits, but she could stick to her regular exercise routine as long as she was feeling well. About a month ago, Izzy coerced Shell into joining her at the gym, and now they tried to work out together whenever Shell found the time to get there. Which was the reason her muscles were screaming at her at nine a.m. on a Wednesday. Beth was at school, the men at the clubhouse, and she wasn’t scheduled at the diner.

Perfect time to put herself through some pain in the form of cardiovascular exertion.