Viper (Hell's Handlers MC Book 9)

by Lilly Atlas

  She giggled which he silenced with another make-out session. When the need for air finally broke them apart, he found himself staring into the gorgeous green pools of her eyes.

  “What if they find us, Viper?” she whispered. “What if they come for us?”

  He pushed a few wayward hairs off her face. “Then we’ll handle it, baby. We’ll handle anything hell sends our way.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  PRESENT DAY - TENNESSEE

  Cassie scanned the boxes of pasta as she rolled the cart down the aisle at a snail’s pace. Last time she’d cooked dinner for Shell and her family, she’d wanted to try a spinach and ricotta manicotti recipe she’d seen on television, but the local market had been out of the correct type of pasta.

  “Score!” she muttered as she pulled a blue box off the shelf.

  Small victory.

  Shell had tried to talk Cassie out of their weekly dinner, but Cassie had refused. Then she’d tried to hijack cooking duty, claiming Cassie didn’t need to be bustling around the kitchen preparing food for anyone while grieving and still recovering from chemotherapy. What Shell didn’t understand was that the normalcy of a routine she cherished was exactly what Cassie needed to help occupy her mind. Over the past few months, as her strength had fled, Viper had taken over cooking duties. Now, feeling physically stronger than she had in ages, Cassie wanted the responsibility back. She needed tasks. Something to focus on besides berating herself for not being ready to begin sorting through Viper’s possessions. Hell, even his deodorant still sat out on the bathroom counter as though he was going to use it in the morning. She couldn’t bring herself to throw it away.

  Though her brain realized he was gone, wouldn’t ever use that deodorant again, her heart wouldn’t let her touch any of his things. There was something so final about removing his possessions. It almost seemed as though she’d be removing him from her life even though she logically knew nothing in the world could ever remove him from her mind, heart, or soul.

  “Oh, ow!” A young woman in jeans and a T-shirt hopped on one foot at the end of Cassie’s cart, hissing in obvious discomfort. In her arms, a little girl who couldn’t be more than two shrieked and grabbed for the woman so as not to slip from her grasp. Her chubby fingers fisted the woman’s shoulder-length hair, giving what had to be a painful yank. “Ouch!” Now she hopped on one foot while trying to pry the baby’s hands away.

  Cassie gasped as her hand flew to her mouth. She’d been so lost in her head, she rammed her shopping cart into an unsuspecting woman. “Oh, my God. I am so sorry.” She rushed around the cart, going straight for the little angel with a death grip. “Well aren’t you a pretty princess,” she said in an exaggerated sugary tone.

  As hoped, the cutie went wide-eyed and released the hair, before burying her face in her young mother’s neck.

  “Oh, thank you,” said the woman who’d set her injured foot back on the floor. “I thought I’d need to head over to the haircare aisle and buy some Rogaine before I left.” As she chuckled, she rocked back and forth in that mindless way mothers did when soothing their children. The hair she spoke of was inky-black and hung around her shoulders in the kind of tousled waves that indicated she’d let the hair air dry instead of styling it.

  “Please do not thank me for anything,” Cassie said with a shake of her head. “I cannot believe I rammed into you like that. I was totally lost in my head. Is your ankle okay?” As she spoke, she bent forward to inspect the woman’s leg.

  With a wave of her hand, the young woman said, “Yes, it’s fine. Just had to shake it off for a minute there.”

  “Well, I’m truly sorry.” Cassie placed a hand over her heart. “Your daughter is absolutely adorable.” By now the little girl had popped her head up once again and stared at Cassie with wide curious blue eyes to complement her fine golden hair. “Hey, sweet pea, I’m Cassie. What’s your name?”

  The girl looked to her mother who nodded. “Who’s this?” She gently poked her daughter’s round baby belly.

  “I Emem.”

  The woman beamed at the little girl then let out a soft laugh before turning her attention to Cassie. “This is Emelia, who we call Emmie. And she’s actually my sister not my daughter.” She stuck out her free hand. “I’m Makenna.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry for assuming.” Wow, there had to be a near twenty-year age gap between two siblings. Cassie couldn’t help but wonder where the child’s parents were. Well, the young woman’s too.

  “No worries at all.” Makenna smiled then started that gentle back and forth swaying again.

  “It was lovely to meet you, Makenna.” Cassie leaned in and tweaked the little girl’s nose eliciting a round of sweet baby giggles. “And it was extra lovely to meet you, Emmie. I’ll let you two get back to your shopping while I try not to maim anyone else.”

  With that, she headed back toward the handle of her shopping cart only to be stopped by Makenna’s voice. “Um, may I ask you a question?”

  Cassie turned again. “Sure, of course.”

  Makenna shifted her gaze to the ground as her face pinked. “Um, I’m new in town and looking for a job. You wouldn’t happen to know of anyone hiring, would you?” Not once did she lift her gaze to make eye contact, but the gesture didn’t come across as impolite. Instead, it held the heavy weight of shame.

  Now that Cassie took a closer look, she noticed the way Emmie’s pale pink dress hung too large on her little toddler frame. And Makenna’s tattered jeans and faded T-shirt spoke to limited funds, as did the toe peeking through the front of her canvas sneakers.

  Whatever this woman’s story, Cassie had no doubt it held plenty of pain and challenges. She wanted to gather the two of them up in her arms and promise to help in any way she could.

  There you go again, Mama V the mother hen. Viper’s voice rang in her ears bringing a smile to her lips and an ache to her heart. The man knew her well.

  “You know, one of my dear friends owns the diner in town. I’m pretty sure they can use some extra help waiting tables. Would that work for you?”

  As though Cassie had offered her a million dollars, Makenna lit up. “Oh yes,” she said, a huge grin spreading across her face. “That would be wonderful. Perfect actually!”

  For the first time in nearly two weeks, a lightness allowed Cassie’s chest to expand to full capacity. It felt as though she’d taken her first full breath in ages. “Here,” she pulled her phone from her back pocket. “What’s your number? I’ll check with my friend and get you the details.”

  Makenna rattled off her phone number starting with an area code Cassie didn’t recognize.

  “Thank you so much for this. I mean it.” She shifted Emmie to her other hip.

  “I’m more than happy to help. It’s the least I can do for mowing you down.”

  Makenna giggled, and Emmie patted her big sister’s cheek. “Please, don’t worry about it. Doesn’t hurt a bit anymore,” she said, capturing the little girl’s hand and giving it a kiss.

  “Well, good. I’ll be in touch soon. Bye, cutie,” She waved at Emmie who grinned and waved back with enthusiasm.

  After a quick goodbye, Makenna was on her way, toddler squirming and asking to get down. As they reached the end of the aisle, Cassie could have sworn she heard Emmie say, “Mama got a boo-boo?” But that couldn’t be correct. Makenna had clearly said they were sisters.

  Cassie returned to her cart and went about her business, grabbing the remaining few items on her list. It was as she placed a bottle of maple syrup in her cart that an unsettling thought occurred to her. Toni could no doubt use some extra help at the diner, but would she hire someone outside their MC circle? Not long ago, the diner had been damaged in the bombing by the Chrome Disciples that had killed Viper. Repairs had begun immediately, and with Rocket at the helm, restoration was expected to be completed in record time.

  Would the club be willing to hire an outsider? And if they were willing, would it even be safe for Makenna to work at the
diner? Maybe she’d mention it to Copper and Shell at dinner. Get their take on things.

  Copper had done wonders for the club, dragging it up from the gutter Sarge landed it in when he’d been the president. Throughout the years, the MC had gone through numerous changes. Some fantastic transitions that strengthened the club, but others that had weakened the bond between members. Back when Viper joined, their primary source of income was weapons distribution as their rivals did now. Beyond being a dangerous game, weapons trafficking inevitably led to federal investigations and arrests.

  Cassie had spent countless nights awake in bed chewing her nails to the skin as she waited for Viper to return home safely. Some, maybe most, of the men kept every single bit of club business to themselves. Viper hadn’t been like that. Hell, he’d passed along too much information. If his presidents had known half of what he’d told her, they’d flip their shit. Well, maybe not Copper. She had a feeling he’d been on to Viper’s blabber mouth when it came to her. But Cassie had never betrayed Viper’s confidence and for them, it had worked. She’d never functioned well when kept in the dark and sharing his burdens with her had kept Viper sane as well.

  It’d been a while since she’d thought of their early years with the club.

  As she turned down the frozen foods’ aisle, Cassie chuckled aloud. She’d never forget the moment Viper and Sarge found out the Hell’s Handlers would require them to prospect despite the fact they’d just finished a yearlong prospecting period with their former club.

  Man had that been a tough pill for Sarge to swallow. It’d been the first time she’d seen the volatile side of the man who’d eventually become the club’s president. Unfortunately, it had been the first of many.

  CBAPTER THIRTEEN

  1982 - TENNESSEE

  Cassie stared at her reflection as she brushed her teeth with the cheap, non-electric toothbrush they’d picked up at a drugstore in Colorado. It sure beat the piece of junk the first motel gave her back in Oregon. Still, for as long as she could remember she’d been using an expensive electric brush that pulverized the germs and claimed to far outperform standard toothbrushes. Funny thing was, her mouth felt exactly the same after brushing with the three-hundred-dollar toothbrush or the three dollar one.

  Silly thing to notice, but it was just a small part of the massive changes one week’s time had brought to her life. The discount jeans and T-shirt were another change. Had she ever even worn something that didn’t include a designer label? At her father’s house in Washington, not a single pair of shoes she owned had been purchased for less than three hundred dollars. Now it all seemed like silly, frivolous things to care about. None of it spoke to who she was or why the man waiting for her out in their motel room wanted her. In fact, losing the wearable status symbols was freeing. The stuff she’d owned hadn’t been for her, but for others. To be seen as an equal among her family and friends. To impress others in her social circle. To keep her father happy.

  Such pointless reasons and unnecessary pressure to belong to a class she couldn’t stand. The woman looking back at her seemed lighter without expensive makeup, designer clothes, and judgmental peers dragging her down.

  She liked this version of herself better already, and it’d only been a few days of changes. Viper sure seemed to like her too.

  Her insides fluttered at the thought of him as they seemed to do every time her mind drifted his way, which was pretty much all the time. So far, it seemed as though she’d really made the right decision joining—

  “There’s no way. There’s no fucking way. What a bunch of horseshit.”

  Cassie froze, toothbrush halting over her back teeth, as Sarge’s angry shouts bypassed the closed bathroom door.

  A loud roar followed by a crash had her heart racing in her chest. She spit out the mouthful of foamy toothpaste and did a quick rinse job before throwing the flimsy bathroom door open. As she wiped her mouth on the back of her palm, her eyes widened. “Whoa,” she whispered.

  A bedside lamp lay in dozens of sharp shards on the motel room’s carpet. One misstep and she’d be making a trip to the ER so she stayed put and kept her bare feet safe.

  Muscles bunched, face contorted, and fists curled, Sarge paced the length of the room like a wild animal in captivity. Whether he didn’t notice his boots crunching over the shattered remains of the lamp or he didn’t care, didn’t affect the outcome. Those giant feet ground bits of glass and ceramic into the thin brown carpet with each pass. Cassie bit her lip to keep from asking him to stop.

  “Listen, brother,” Viper said, calm as could be. He sat on the edge of one of the queen-sized beds in their fifth motel in eight days, wearing nothing but open jean and some briefs. “These guys don’t know us from shit. It sucks ass, yes, but I’m not surprised the club wants us to prospect. Actually, I didn’t realize you were expecting an automatic in.” There was a measured tone to his words as though he spoke carefully. In the times they’d been alone on the trip across the country, she and Viper had talked about everything under the sun. He gave her the tragic details of his relationship with Vanessa, and she’d shared the disaster of her best friend being pregnant with her half-sister. They’d shared stories from their childhoods and details of their dramatically different family life growing up and currently. When they’d reached more recent years, Viper told her how he met Sarge the first day they became prospects. Part of that story had included warning her of Sarge’s occasional temper and erratic behavior.

  Now she had the unfortunate opportunity to witness it firsthand, for the third time. Seems Sarge was less than pleased with the idea of another year prospecting. She knew next to nothing about motorcycle clubs, so as they’d crossed the country, Cassie had asked question after question. Some to Sarge, but mostly to Viper who seemed thrilled by her interest in club life. Just seemed logical to arm herself with knowledge before getting to Tennessee. Being in a new environment without friends or family was going to be challenging enough without being totally blind to the life.

  Through their lengthy conversations, she’d learned that it just plain sucked to be a prospect. A prospect period was basically a year of abuse, thankless work, and misery. To think Viper had to start from scratch made her chest ache. Though she understood they couldn’t expect special treatment. As Viper pointed out, they were unknowns to this club.

  “Fuck that,” Sarge said as he stomped more glass into the carpet. Red-faced and fists clenched, he stopped in front of Viper, getting right in his space.

  Cassie held her breath, but Viper didn’t draw back an inch.

  “I know these guys. At least five of them. They fucking asked me to come out here. Fucking asked me to join this piece of shit club.”

  The angry-pacing resumed.

  “Fuck!” Sarge yelled as he grabbed Cassie’s purse off the bed and chucked it across the room, scattering contents in all four corners of the little box.

  “Hey!” She jumped forward, careful not to step near the glass, only to encounter the rage-filled face of Sarge staring down at her as he practically bumped her backward.

  Yikes.

  He was one pissed off individual. Had Viper not been present, she may have had a meeker reaction to such an aggressive posture, but he’d never let Sarge hurt her, so she held her ground, staring him right back.

  “Do not give me any shit!” He screamed; face turning more purple with each word. As he yelled, he jabbed a blunt-nailed finger in her face. “I’ve had enough of it today, don’t need to listen to more of your fucking bitching now too.”

  Excuse me?

  Her bitching? She’d been kidnapped, groped, stripped of her clothing, sold, terrorized, left her home and traveled for the past week plus with two men she didn’t know. Not once had she shed a tear—at least not in Sarge’s presence. She didn’t complain about how sore her ass was from riding for days, and it was sore. She didn’t express her increasing anxiety over the fact none of them had jobs, places to live, or friends beyond each other. She’d been a
fucking soldier and he claimed she was bitching?

  Hell, no. Who the hell was he to talk to her like that? Cassie was done taking shit from people.

  She opened her mouth to blast him when Viper inserted himself between them with a hand on Sarge’s chest and his back to her. His tense jaw and rigid posture let her know he’d like to rip Sarge a new one too, but he managed to stay even keeled. One thing she’d learned about him over the past few days was that the man had unyielding control over his temper. He never lost it or control of himself, no matter the situation.

  Even in the crappiest of them.

  “Easy, brother,” Viper said, holding his hands up. “We risked a lot to drive back into Washington and sneak into Cassie’s father’s house to snag that purse before we left. Those are her only possessions. Cut her a break man. She’s got nothing to do with why you’re pissed.” He reached a hand behind his back and she immediately grabbed it. One comforting squeeze and she wanted to weep in relief. This man was very quickly becoming vital to her existence.

  The second night in Oregon, Viper and Sarge had traveled back to Washington to her father’s home. He’d left that day on business and the place was empty for the night. It’d been a huge risk, but there were things she’d needed, so they’d done it. And every second they’d been gone, she’d sat on the bed, staring at the door with her heart in her throat. God, that’d been a shitty night of intense nerves and stress.

  Sarge scowled at Viper with fire shooting from his eyes, but instead of unleashing more rage, he turned and stormed from the room.

  As soon as his retreating back disappeared behind the door, Cassie blew out a huge breath. Before the breath had fully left her lungs, Viper had turned and yanked her against his chest. The strength of his muscular arms around her chased away any anxiety Sarge’s outburst created.

  “Fuck, babe, you good?” He spoke against her hair.