Joy (Hell's Handlers MC 7)

The first was the day I married you.

Though he didn’t say the words, Shell heard them loud and clear, cutting across the distance.

Crank snorted. “Fuck off. That shit supposed to scare me? Been up against bigger and badder than you and lived to tell the fucking tales.”

The man was a fool if he doubted what Copper had done to Lefty or the Handlers’ ability to do the same to him. Shell hadn’t learned specifics, she wasn’t ever privy to the nitty-gritty details, but she’d known Copper and Rocket had killed Lefty in a spectacular fashion. Maybe it made her heartless, or evil, but she’d only experienced one emotion when Copper had confessed that deed late at night while she laid in his arms.

Pure fucking relief.

The same thing she’d feel once he did the same to Crank and his president. And he would. Because men like those who made up the Chrome Disciples MC didn’t stop. As their hunger for money and power grew, so did their atrocities.

“Enough fucking around,” Copper said even though it had seemed he was the one stalling a few moments ago. “Here’s how this shit is gonna go. I’ll give you one minute to walk the fuck away from the women. If you haven’t moved, you’ll be taken out. If you have a lick of sense and leave, what happens after that will be up to your president. If he’s lookin’ to get bloody, stick around town. If he wants his men to live, get the fuck off my turf.”

Shell sucked in a breath. She’d seen Copper in president mode enough times to know the threats weren’t idle. Her ol’ man meant every word out of his mouth. If the Chrome Disciples stayed in Townsend, there’d be hell to pay.

Handler’s style.

Shell could only stare at the back of Crank’s head, but she imagined he wore quite the sinister grin, if the evil-sounding laugh coming from him was any indication. Now that the gauntlet had been thrown down, she strained to hear every word said. She needn’t have bothered. Words weren’t necessary. The man’s actions gave a pretty clear indication of his intentions.

“Or, I could just end this right now.” Without so much as glancing behind him, Crank extended his right arm and aimed a pistol directly at Shell. She froze as though her blood had finally dipped below thirty-two degrees. Not breathing, not even daring to blink as though the tiniest disturbance in the airflow would cause him to pull the trigger.

On the other side of Lindsey, Toni stilled, then sucked in a sharp breath. Lindsey didn’t react. Not even a twitch. The teen’s eyes remained closed, her head resting heavily on Toni’s shoulder. If this continued much longer, it wouldn’t be a bullet that took the girl out.

When she shifted her eyes front again, Shell’s heart rate skyrocketed. As though they were magicians pulling weapons from thin air, both Copper and Zach had guns out and at the ready.

Chances were high, this showdown would end in a bloodbath. Had she any idea how to defuse the situation, Shell would have spoken up, but she couldn’t think. So she placed her trust in Copper prayed her man would get them all through this.

He had to. Shell refused to leave her daughter this way. The hug and kiss she gave Beth as she sent her off to preschool would not be the last. She uncurled her aching and wind burned fingers, stroking them over her tiny stomach bump.

Daddy will protect you.

“Sure you wanna do that?” Crank asked.

The telltale chick-chunk of a rifle being cocked split the air. The barrel of the rifle extended from the passenger window of the van. Another biker in a Chrome Disciples cut now loomed outside the van, aiming a shotgun at the back of Zach’s head. Then there was a third emerging from the back of the van, a second shotgun at the ready and trained on her man.

Suddenly the cold was no longer anyone’s biggest concern, and Shell found herself simultaneously sweating bullets and freezing her ass off. With each passing second, their chances for survival grew bleaker.

“Seems as though you’re outnumbered, boys. Maybe I should just kill you right now. Claim the town for my men.”

Copper didn’t respond, but his eyes narrowed to focused slits. Shell could barely breathe. Between the icy air burning her lungs and the terror of what could happen, she was more focused on watching the scene unfold than drawing in oxygen.

“Or,” Crank continued, his voice taking on an almost giddy edge, “maybe I off your women. Watch you flop around for a few weeks then kill you anyway.”

“You sure we’re outnumbered?” Copper asked then.

Shell’s eyes fell closed. He had a plan. Brothers at his back.

Crank made a big display of glancing around then laughed once again. “You hallucinating, old man? Pretty sure it’s four guns to two.”