Copper

by Iris Abbott

  Marla drove out of the parking lot and onto the main road without slowing down. She took the turn a little too sharp and ended up on the other side of the road. Luckily, there were no other vehicles on the highway, so she kept going. She took one hand off of the wheel long enough to grab her phone. She hit the button for speed dial number one and waited.

  “Hello,” her sister answered on the third ring.

  “Natalie, Natalie! I think I’ve been shot!”

  “What! Marla, is that you? Did you say shot, as in a gun and bullet? Where are you?” Her sister asked in a desperate voice.

  “I’m hightailing it away from the school right now,” she sobbed. “My side hurts, it stings badly. I can’t stop to check the damage, because I don’t know if I’m being followed!” Marla hysterically screamed into the phone. “I didn’t even have time to call the police. Not that I’d want to anyway,” she mumbled.

  “We’ll worry about that later. Don’t come home,” Natalie instructed her sister. “Go to the Metal Cowboys’ place. They can protect you better than the police, and they aren’t that far from the school.”

  Marla shivered and concentrated on trying to keep her car between the yellow and white lines painted on the road. “Those bikers scare me, Natalie.” She remembered her encounter with Copper Ellison just a few nights ago. She shivered from the memories. He’d scared her enough to send her running into the night.

  “They scare most people, that’s why you need to go to them. Plus their place is closer than the apartment. That means less driving and less chance of whoever’s trying to hurt you getting their hands on you. There’s a security gate, and if you are far enough ahead of whoever is chasing you, they won’t be able to get in,” Natalie promised.

  “I think I can make it home,” Marla tried to argue. She should have known that wouldn’t go over too well, her sister was bossy. It was a deep-seated personality trait Natalie developed after their parents died in the car accident.

  “Just do it!” Natalie shouted into the phone. She gave her sister the four-digit code for the security gate and made her repeat it three times. “You don’t want me to call the Metal Cowboys and ask them to track your butt down, do you?”

  Marla decided she didn’t have much of a choice. Staying alive was her top priority. Safety outweighed comfort. Besides, she might already have a killer on her tail. She didn’t need to add a group of angry bikers to the tally. She knew when to give in gracefully. Now was one of those times.

  She could feel blood seeping onto her clothes, and she was already feeling lightheaded. Marla hoped she didn’t pass out behind the wheel of the car. She didn’t need a car accident on top of everything else. She didn’t want to be out in the open like a sitting duck for whoever was trying to hurt her either.

  “I love you, Natalie. See you soon, I hope. I don’t want to hang up, but I need both hands on the wheel for the mad dash I’m about to do! I’ve got to go.”

  “Love you too. I’m on my way out the door. Stay strong and be safe, sis. I’ll see you at the Metal Cowboys’ house.”

  Marla gripped the steering wheel as hard as she could. Her eyes followed the path her headlights cut through the murky darkness of the night. Thank goodness, she didn’t see any other vehicles on the road. She wouldn’t be able to tell who was friend or foe, avoiding everyone except for the Metal Cowboys and her sister was the safest bet.

  She approached most things in life with a cautious attitude. No one who knew her would accuse her of having a lead foot. She characteristically drove right at the speed limit, maybe five miles over if she was in a hurry but never faster than that. Tonight her speedometer was stuck on seventy-five, and she wasn’t slowing down. She would go faster if she thought it might help, but flipping her car into a ditch because of a sharp curve wouldn’t do anything to improve the situation she found herself facing.

  After several harrowing minutes without spotting anything in her rearview mirror, the turnoff to the long drive that led to the Metal Cowboys’ headquarters came into view. Glancing in the rearview mirror one more time, Marla was relieved by the darkness that met her eyes. No headlights, so if someone was chasing her, the pursuer hadn’t gained any ground. She could breathe just a little bit easier. She took her foot off of the accelerator long enough to safely make the turn.

  Now that she was surrounded by Metal Cowboys’ property, Marla felt a little calmer and a whole lot safer. She focused a little less on her driving and more on her wound. She was surprised that her side didn’t seem to hurt as much as it did when she was first shot. The biting pain in her side dulled to a steady ache during the ride. It seemed that the rest of her body along with her mind was numb.

  Marla drove down the long gravel lane as fast as she dared. She came to an abrupt stop right in front of the large metal gate. She typed in the numbers and held her breath until the gate started to open. She breathed a sigh of relief and drove onto the other side. There was still no sign of a pursuer. Marla was pretty sure her chances of surviving the night dramatically increased with the closing of that gate.

  She drove down the drive until the huge antebellum mansion where Copper and a few of his biker brothers lived came into view. Her relief at making it to the safe haven was short-lived. The house was totally dark. So was the large metal building behind it that was used as a garage and workspace.

  Marla drove past the house and slammed on the brakes when she was parallel to the front door of the garage. The further from the road she was the safer she would be. Just because someone else might have a hard time making it onto the property, didn’t mean she should advertise her whereabouts. Marla was pretty sure the property was vacant, so if whoever was after her stormed the gate, she was as good as dead.

  She wasn’t sure if her legs would work or not, so waiting in the car seemed like the best and only option. She wrapped her arms around her body and leaned her head against the steering wheel. Natalie would be there soon. Everything would be okay once her sister arrived. Suddenly exhausted, Marla closed her eyes and waited.

  ****

  Christopher Ellison, known as Copper to most people, was always watchful. His eyes darted from side to side taking in everything around him. The dusty Texas back road was deserted. He motioned to the men behind him. Copper opened the throttle on his custom Metal Cowboy Thoroughbred, confident the others would keep up with him.

  His twin brothers, Steel and Mercury, were riding behind him. Chrome brought up the rear. He was Copper’s brother-in-arms instead of blood, but a brother all the same. The other three men were used to his subtle cues and changing moods. And Copper, the oldest at thirty-five, was used to leading.

  The night was pitch black, but he felt at home in the darkness. He would draw it around him like a familiar and comfortable cloak if he could. The air was heavy and humid, typical of a hot summer night in Texas. Copper breathed deep anyway. The musky smell of freshly toiled soil assailed his nose. Texas was home, and he loved it.

  He and his brothers grew up on a ranch about four hours north of where they now resided. Much to his parents’ disappointment, during their adolescence, Copper and his brothers were more comfortable on a motorcycle than the back of a horse. Their love for bikes stuck with them into adulthood, and the name Metal Cowboys was born.

  He slowed to make a sharp right turn onto their vast acreage. The road narrowed into a private lane that led to a large metal gate with a keypad entry system. He stopped the bike just long enough to type in the four-digit code. The gate swung open. He throttled his bike and shot off down the drive. Their home and the garage and workspace were on the other side of the gate. The property and Metal Cowboy business was jointly owned by Copper, Steel, Mercury, Chrome, and Iron.

  A tremendous sense of pride and accomplishment overcame him every time he thought of the custom bike design and repair business they started just four years ago. Their bikes were in high demand, so popular there was a backlog of orders that the men relentlessly worked to fill. Eventually t
hey would need to bring in more partners to expand the business.

  The majestic and roomy antebellum mansion that housed him and the rest of the Metal Cowboys came into view. Out of habit, his eyes darted to the large metal building that served as headquarters and workspace for their business. A metal object glinted in the concentrated light of his bike’s headlight. One of the five original founding members of the Metal Cowboys was always the last to leave and secure the garage. It was locked up tight and protected by a state of the art security system, but Copper didn’t want anyone nosing around the building, especially after hours.

  Instead of pulling into the detached garage behind the house as he normally would Copper drove past the former bed and breakfast. He motioned to the other men, signaling them to hang back. If the trespasser was looking for trouble, the only men Copper trusted to watch his back had it covered. He revved the motor and came to a sliding stop perpendicular to the driver’s side of the small two-door car. Much to his satisfaction, dust billowed up around him and the unfamiliar vehicle.

  There was a lot of expensive equipment, machinery, and tools stored in the Metal Cowboys’ garage and warehouse. Future bike designs were also kept locked in a safe inside the garage as well. A stranger poking around in the dark after hours was never a good thing, and uninvited guests were not welcome on the property. He planned to make that clear to whoever was invading their territory.

  He used his booted foot to engage the kickstand and hopped off the bike. He yanked off his helmet, spread his legs wide apart, folded his arms over his chest, and waited. If there was going to be a confrontation, Copper was ready. It was up to the trespasser to make the next move.

  The driver’s door of the car was suddenly flung open. Copper tensed and slid his hand to the concealed handgun resting in the holster at the base of his spine. The vehicle’s only occupant lurched out on unsteady feet. He braced himself for an attack.

  The light from his bike’s headlight illuminated a familiar sight. Long, thick, wavy hair framed her heart-shaped face. It sparkled and shined in the light. The tresses were dark blonde with a multitude of highlights ranging from bronze to golden with every shade of blonde in-between. Large and frightened eyes the shade of an inviting whiskey stared at him through long, thick lashes.

  He instantly recognized Marla Taylor. She was the last person he expected to see on their property, especially at night while alone. His gut felt like it was being clenched by an unrelenting fist. Even though the younger sister of his personal assistant attended a few parties and barbecues at the mansion over the past four years, she usually kept to herself and stayed well out of his way. She always lingered in the shadows and shied away from the former military men turned bikers. It made her presence on their property all the more suspicious, especially since she’d just run out on him less than a week ago.

  “You’re trespassing,” he said in a harsh voice that carried on the sultry night air. “How’d you get through the gate?” he demanded to know. No breach of security was too little to investigate.

  He saw her flinch. It felt like he’d been kicked in the gut. Copper still wasn’t one to be swayed by a gorgeous face, no matter how breathtaking it might be. He stood his ground and continued to glare until she gave him an answer.

  “My sister gave me the code,” she reluctantly admitted.

  “That’s a violation of her work contract,” Copper snapped. Natalie was an excellent assistant. He’d didn’t want to fire her, but giving someone access to the Metal Cowboys’ living and working space was a huge infringement. It couldn’t be overlooked. “If you’re looking for Natalie, by the way, she left at five o’clock. So I’m thinking there’s no reason for you to be here.” Yeah, he was still more than a little pissed at her running act the other night.

  “I hope Natalie doesn’t get into trouble! She gave me the code, because it was an emergency,” Marla insisted in a husky whisper. “I need help. Natalie told me I could find it here.” A wrenching sob disturbed the peaceful night.

  “I guess both of us were mistaken. I don’t need any more trouble. I’ve got enough of that already. I’m sorry I bothered you, it won’t happen again. I’ll get out of your way, and you can just forget I was ever here.”

  Copper’s gut clenched. No matter how much of a bad idea it might be, he wasn’t ready to let her go yet. Before he could think of the words to coax more of an explanation from her and extend her stay, Marla’s eyes fluttered and then closed. She swayed like a thin reed in the wind and started to fall forward.

  He heard heavy footfalls behind him. The thought of even one of his brothers touching her made him growl. “Mine,” he hissed. Copper lurched forward and caught her limp body in his arms. He could feel the heat of his brothers’ stares on his back.

  The group rushed forward, but they were careful not to touch Marla. Chrome was the first to speak. “That’s Natalie’s sister,” he hissed. “I think you scared the hell out of her, Copper.” He glared towards the compact car. “I don’t see Natalie,” he pointed out the obvious.

  “We need to figure out what kind of trouble she might be bringing to our doorstep,” Mercury suggested. “Sometimes knowledge and preparation can be the difference between life and death,” he reminded the former military men.

  The Metal Cowboys didn’t go looking for trouble, but sometimes it came looking for them. This was a perfect example. Any problem no matter the origin was always handled quickly, efficiently, and without mercy, usually by Mercury. The weapons and martial arts expert was as dangerous and deadly as the heavy metal he shared his nickname with.

  “I’ll check the car for her purse, phone, and any kind of clue as to why she’s here,” Steel volunteered. He was a planner. The twin paid attention to details no matter how small or tedious they proved to be. Copper might be the leader, but Steel was the glue that held the Metal Cowboys together. He leaned across the seat of the small car and dragged out a large leather purse.

  “I’m taking her to my suite,” Copper informed his brothers. He adjusted her slight body in his arms. That’s when he felt the sticky wetness. “What the hell?”

  His hand came away from her body, stained black in the darkness. “Blood! Damn it, she’s hurt. It must be why she passed out. Let’s move!” His tone was much sharper than he intended.

  “Steel, grab your first aid kit, and meet me in my bedroom.” He was thankful his brother received medical training as part of his stint in the Army.

  “Chrome, I want information immediately. Go over her vehicle with a fine-toothed comb. Look for anything that might explain why she’s here and how she got injured.” He turned sharply on his heels and started walking toward the former bed and breakfast.

  The slight weight in his arms didn’t slow him down. He jogged up the sweeping steps leading to the front door. Steel shot ahead of him, unlocked the door, and quickly disarmed the alarm system. “We need to find Natalie and let her know her sister made it onto our property alive. She must have known she was coming since she gave her the code. Maybe she can shed some light on the situation.”

  “Chrome’s on it already. I’ll see you in less than five.” Steel shot up the curving staircase and made a right turn in the direction of his bedroom.

  Copper climbed the same staircase and made a left hand turn. His bedroom was at the end of the long hallway. The mansion was converted to a bed and breakfast ten years earlier. An extensive remodeling project created eight large bedrooms. Each room boasted its own small sitting area and large bathroom. It was one of the main reasons the Metal Cowboys chose to buy the property.

  He entered his room and gently laid a still unconscious Marla onto his navy blue comforter. It was a good thing it was such a dark color, because he wasn’t wasting time looking for old sheets or towels to put under her to catch the blood. He gently touched the side of her face with his roughened fingers. She didn’t stir.

  He couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to harm such a beautiful and delicate woman. The sharp vicio
us sting of anger zinged through his body. His hands clenched and unclenched in the soft silky material of Marla’s blouse. For a brief second, he imagined they were wrapped around someone’s throat.

  He took a deep breath and willed himself to calm down. One of the men who served with him in the SEALs once told Copper his glare was mean enough to petrify most civilians. He knew he looked like one mean SOB when he was angry. He didn’t want to scare Marla any more than he already did. He relaxed his facial muscles and assumed a blank expression.

  “I have to cut through her top.”

  The statement alerted him to Steel’s presence. He was so focused on Marla he didn’t hear his brother enter the room. Copper stiffened at Steel’s words. The defensive posture had nothing to do with the fact that he was the one used to issuing orders.

  Steel sighed and stepped closer to the bed. “Use your head, brother. I need to see the injury in order to treat it.”

  Copper gritted his teeth, but he didn’t interfere. He intently watched as his brother used a pair of surgical scissors to rip through the side of the blood-soaked blouse. He sucked in a deep breath when the wound was exposed.

  “Looks like she was grazed by a bullet,” Steel said. “I’ll clean it up, apply disinfectant, and tape it up. Then just to be on the safe side, I’ll give her a tetanus shot. Also, once I verify she doesn’t have any known allergies, I’ll give her a dose of antibiotics too.” He snapped on a pair of disposable gloves and meticulously began to treat Marla’s wound.

  “Just as I thought,” he said after a few minutes. It’s not very deep at all. I don’t even think she’ll need stitches.”

  Copper let out a small sigh of relief. “I’ve seen much worse,” he gratefully admitted. A man saw a lot of unpleasant sights doing multiple tours overseas in a SEAL unit.

  “We all have,” Steel agreed. “Either the person gunning for her has bad aim or someone was trying to send a message instead of kill her.”