Zach (Hell's Handlers MC Book 1)

by Lilly Atlas

  Warmth flooded her. It was nice to have a connection to the past. A person who was able to see beyond the dumb kid she’d been and to the responsible adult she’d become. “Thanks, Ernesto,” she said, smiling to mask the lump in her throat.

  At exactly seven a.m., Toni unlocked the door, and a flood of hungry townspeople piled in and filled almost every empty seat.

  Time flew faster than Toni could ever remember. The wait staff were so busy, they were practically jogging between tables and behind the counter to keep up with the demands. Toni appointed herself in charge of coffee; brewing, filling, and refilling both black and a few fancier coffees. The task turned out to be perfect, because she was able to visit each table and chat with customers. People of the community couldn’t have been nicer or more welcoming. Many remembered her from her youth, but quite a few new faces were committed to memory as well. Before long, she felt like she’d never left, either the town or the diner.

  Ernesto was never without a spatula in hand; flipping pancakes, scrambling eggs, and shaking his hips to music while he worked. At one point, he pulled Toni aside and asked if he could run some new, trendier menu ideas by her, but they’d grown so busy, neither had any time. She made a mental note to seek him out after closing at one.

  About forty-five minutes before close, it happened. Two bikers strolled in. Each wore a Hell’s Handlers cut and a healthy layer of badassery. A woman was with them as well. One who seemed to fit right in with their motif of leather, tattoos, and intimidation.

  A hush stole over the crowded diner, but it didn’t last for more than thirty seconds, because an older gentleman seated at the counter took a giant bite of Ernesto’s famous blueberry pancakes and let out an orgasmesque moan. After that, laughter ensued and chatter resumed once again.

  Look at that. No one really gave a crap who ate in the diner.

  Just her very narrow-minded parents.

  “Which section is Shell’s?” The largest of the bikers asked. He had dark auburn hair and a beard to match. No smile, no friendly hello, just tough-guy macho-man vibes. Actually, he had a strong resemblance to Tormund Giantsbane from Toni’s favorite show, Game of Thrones.

  “Shell?” she asked, the full coffee pot testing the limits of her biceps. She hadn’t worked this hard in years.

  “Michelle,” the woman said. At least she smiled. As she spoke, the brown haired, blue eyed biker she was with circled her shoulders with his muscled arm. He also had a beard. Was it a requirement to join their MC?

  No, it wasn’t. The biker who lived next door to her had a face as smooth as silk. A face that had appeared in more than one spicy dream the previous night. The gaze he’d ensnared her with had been intense and stuck with her for hours, heating parts of her that had no business getting hot. Especially since she had a boyfriend. A boyfriend who’d never gotten her as fired up as one smoldering stare from a man she didn’t know.

  That was a problem.

  “Oh, yes, sorry. I didn’t realize she went by a nickname. You can grab that empty booth right over there.” She pointed toward Michelle’s section with the coffee pot. “I’ll let her know she has another table.”

  “Thanks,” the big one said. The couple had pretty much disappeared into their own world, whispering and stealing kisses. The man murmured something in the woman’s ear, probably something dirty, because her eyes heated and she wrapped her arms around his waist.

  The pang of jealously that hit Toni was unexpected. Not that she wanted the biker, but their connection was so obvious, no one would miss it. Neither seemed to mind public affection. Toni’s boyfriend would barely hold her hand. He said it looked common, whatever that meant.

  Uncle Mark was right about him. He was a dud. They had no chemistry. No fire. No passion. Toni had been ignoring it since…well, since he first kissed her. It was getting harder to ignore by the day.

  When they’d gotten together, she’d thought she was making a smart choice in a companion. A responsible choice. Choosing a man who had a stable and lucrative job, goals for the future, one who was dependable, and reliable. Chris wasn’t a bad guy. In fact, quite the opposite.

  He’d treated her well throughout their relationship. Hell, he’d even dropped everything and come to Tennessee with her for her parents’ funeral. He just wasn’t a panty-melter. And while she’d tried to tell herself it didn’t matter, it was starting to matter.

  Problems for another time. Toni started to turn toward the kitchen, but a large hand on her arm stopped her.

  “Like what you’re doing here, lady. Always wanted to eat at this place. Got a lot of growing boys in my club,” the copper-haired giant said with a smile she wouldn’t have thought possible until she saw it with her own eyes. A smile that made him look less fierce and more attractive. “We’ll bring you some good, steady business.”

  She met his gaze and saw the unspoken words. And we won’t cause you any trouble.

  With a nod she said, “Enjoy your breakfast. I’ll grab Michelle.”

  Toni found Michelle in the kitchen, leaning against the walk-in refrigerator with her pad and pen in hand, her head tipped back, and her eyes closed.

  “Hey, hon, you okay?” Toni asked.

  Michelle’s eyes popped open and she sighed. “Just taking a minute to catch my breath. Busiest day in a while. Guess that’s what happens when people can’t get their breakfast fix for a week, huh?”

  “Well don’t stab me with that pen, but you have another table. It’s, uh, three of the Hell’s Handlers.”

  Half of Michelle’s mouth moved up in a chagrined smile. “Yeah, I saw them come in.”

  “Ahh, might that have anything to do with your sudden need for air?”

  “Could be.” She chuckled and said, “Thought I found the one place I wouldn’t have to see them.”

  Toni sensed she hadn’t meant to say that last part out loud, so she let it go, though it had her very curious about Michelle’s life. “The big one called you Shell. Seems pretty familiar with you. You okay serving them?”

  A very unladylike snort came from Michelle. “Trust me, you don’t want to tell those guys they can’t get what they want. I’ll be fine.”

  “You sure? I won’t have anyone making you feel uncomfortable.”

  Her blonde curls bounced as she shook her head. “It’s nothing to worry about. Just a lot of complicated…ness.”

  “Complicatedness, huh? I may have some experience with that.” Toni flexed and straightened her right elbow a few times. She’d only been holding the coffee pot for about five minutes and the bicep was already screaming. Another few hours and she’d have a dead arm. Time for a gym membership. “Maybe we should grab a drink while I’m here and compare stories.”

  Michelle smiled. “I’d love that. I’ve only been back in town a few months, and it’s been hard finding girlfriends, since I’m either working or mothering. I could really use some estrogen time. I’m trying to remember you from when you were a kid, but I’m drawing a blank.”

  “Most of my time was spent here until I was in my teens, then my crowd was mostly out of town kids.” That was as much as Toni would be telling anyone about what she got up to before she left. Some things were better left unsaid.

  Shell nodded. “And I was the daughter of a biker, so we weren’t exactly eating in here.”

  “No offense, but I’m surprised my parents hired you.” She put the coffee pot on the counter and almost sang for joy at the relief in her arm.

  “I was too, actually. My dad died about ten years ago. Lung cancer. Anyway, I applied kinda on a whim when I returned to town, and I don’t think your parents realized whose daughter I was.”

  “Makes sense. Well, go give those bikers a run for their money, and we’ll plan a night out soon. I’m going to refill everyone’s coffee, then I’ll be in my office for a while if you need anything. A few staff members have given me some great ideas for some updates to the place.”

  “Hmm,” Michelle said, tapping her pen against
her pursed lips. “You know, you sure don’t sound like someone who is about to pass the restaurant off to an outside manager, then sell it.” She winked. “You sound more like someone who’s excited about a new opportunity.” With that parting shot, she spun on her sneaker covered heel and left the kitchen.

  Well, shit. Toni blew out a breath and sagged against the walk-in, in much the same pose she’d found Michelle in. Her employee was right. She sure didn’t sound like a woman ready to turn over her business.

  Didn’t feel like it, either.

  Instead, she felt a renewed excitement. Ideas flowed through her head on ways to make the place even better than it already was. It was an old, dormant feeling coming to life. Remnants of a time when she was happy. Before it had all gone bad.

  She’d loved working the floor that morning, chatting with customers, bustling around.

  Shit.

  She wasn’t going to find a manager for the diner.

  She was staying.

  But just for six weeks.

  And now she had to spring that surprise on her boyfriend. The boyfriend she was also pretty sure she should dump.

  Chapter Four

  “You can’t be serious!” Droplets of Chardonnay and spittle spewed from Chris’s mouth and dotted the deck of the wraparound porch outside Toni’s new/old house. “Shit, Toni, warn a guy before you pull something like that.”

  He coughed again and Toni whacked him on the back. Clad in a tailored shirt and slacks, Chris was dressed about as casual as he got, at least when there was a chance of someone beside Toni seeing him. At least he’d lost the tie and jacket.

  Had he always been so stuffy? So formal? Judgmental?

  Maybe she was being too hard on him. So he was more conservative and close minded than she was. Different ideas and opinions on life were what made relationships interesting. Weren’t they?

  Toni shot forward in her seat and squeaked.

  Holy crap. It hit her like a lightning strike.

  Chris was her parents.

  She was dating her parents.

  Everything she’d rebelled against.

  She’d come full circle.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Another cough shook Chris’s body. “I’m the one who’s choking over here.”

  They were lounging on her porch, much to Chris’s chagrin. He was much more an inside kind of guy. In the ten days they’d been there, Toni had taken to sitting on the porch and watching the sun set each evening with a glass of wine. The house had woods behind and a view of the Great Smoky Mountains from the front.

  Beautiful sunsets. So focused on education and forming a life she could be proud of, Toni had forgotten how wonderful being still could be. She’d forgotten so many things about the sleepy town she grew up in. Especially the sense of community. In Chicago, in a building with fifty apartments, Toni had only spoken to one of her neighbors, and that was because she’d accidentally gotten some mail for the tenant above her.

  “Nothing’s wrong. And I am serious, Chris.”

  His wineglass hit the side table with a clunk and he shot her an incredulous glare. “You’re going to stay here and run a diner. For six weeks? Here? In this shit town.” He snorted. “If that’s not a joke, I don’t know what is.”

  Frustration rose and she stood, jamming her hands on her hips. “Why is that so funny? I grew up here. In this town. In that diner.”

  Chris stood as well, damn him for being so much taller than she was. He was handsome in a very Wall-Street-investment-banker kind of way. Or an attorney way, which made sense because that’s what he was. Polished, coiffed, expensive. Good on paper. Everything she’d be smart to want. So she’d tried to force it.

  But she’d always been one to go for a man who was more tarnished.

  And look where that had gotten her? Girlfriend of an asshole gangbanger by the time she was seventeen. Passed around to his friends like some kind of live sex toy. Drugged-out and a hot fucking mess.

  Once Mark literally dragged her wasted ass away from that life and cleaned her up, she’d vowed to never make those mistakes again. To never be led around by lust, hormones, and anger. So, she steered clear of anything resembling a bad boy. And now she was coasting along in a bland, boring relationship with a man who didn’t really know her. Not deep down.

  Not his fault.

  She’d hid herself from him. Hell, she hid herself from herself the past few years. And now she had the opportunity to rediscover who she was over the next six weeks. To really determine what she wanted to get out of her life. An opportunity she couldn’t pass up.

  “You’re a city girl, Toni.” He waved his hand around as though the beautiful nature around them was a steaming pile of garbage. “You wear J Crew, drink cosmopolitans, and get your nails done every two weeks. You do not belong here in hick town.”

  Was this guy for real? “Wow, Chris. Snobby much? That’s me, huh? Summed up in three insignificant details.”

  With a snort, Chris threw his arms in the air and paced the length of the porch. “That was just an example. You’re different here. Look at your outfit for God’s sake. Your pockets are longer than your shorts. I’ve seen the little sluts at your school wearing the same outfits.”

  Toni’s blood was a few degrees from boiling. “You did not just call me a slut,” she shouted.

  From opposite sides of the porch, they stared at each other. Toni tried to steady her breathing, tried to calm her anger, but it wasn’t working. This was a side of Chris she hadn’t known existed. She’d never slapped anyone before, but there was a first time for everything.

  Chris on the other hand deescalated much faster. After stuffing his hands in his pockets, he focused on the setting sun before facing her. “Look, I have to go back to Chicago tonight because I have a deposition in the morning. I don’t want to fight with you. You’re grieving over your parents’ deaths and you’re lost right now. How about this, you stay here this week and I’ll fly back out on the weekend. We can sort everything out then.”

  Such a sensible, rational, adult way of handling their conflict when Toni wanted to rant and rave at him. Maybe being back in her hometown was throwing her off her game.

  Not off enough that she didn’t realize this relationship was quickly coming to an end.

  Instead of reacting on instinct and emotion, she dropped her hands from her hips and rolled her shoulders. Tension had her upper back muscles protesting the movement. “Maybe we should take a break,” she said.

  Chris nodded. “I’ll go back, and we’ll talk next week after we’ve each had some breathing room, okay?”

  She could try that, but would she feel different in a week? Probably not. Really, she shouldn’t have been with him in the first place. He’d have every right to be pissed at her. In a way, she’d used him. Not with poor intentions, but to try to wedge herself into a specific kind of life. A life that didn’t seem to fit who she was, unfortunately. Maybe she just needed to steer clear of relationships altogether.

  “No. I mean break like break up. I don’t think this is going to work, Chris.”

  His face fell, and guilt hit her hard. Just because he wasn’t for her, didn’t mean he was a crappy boyfriend. And if the look on his face was any indication, he was crushed by her declaration.

  Townsend was screwing with her head, big time. Perhaps this wasn’t the time to make a decision about the fate of her relationship, but even though she felt guilty about hurting Chris, it felt right.

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  Zach splashed cold water on his overheated face, then braced his hands on the sides of the sink. He let his head drop down as his breathing slowly returned to normal. For the past hour, he’d pounded the heavy bag like the sack of sand personally disrespected him and everyone he gave a shit about.

  If the throb in his shoulder wasn’t enough of an indication he’d overdone it, the ache in his knuckles was.

  Fucking gangbangers.

  The club’s board was meeting in two hours and Zach had
bad news for Copper. Bad news for the entire club. Shit news, really.

  As enforcer for the Hell’s Handlers MC, Zach had contacts with MC’s, gangs, a few dirty cops, and various lowlifes for hundreds of miles around. He’d collected quite a few favors over time and made sure everyone knew not to fuck with him or his MC. For years, they’d run their club and conducted business without competition or threat of a turf war.

  Until now.

  Until the fuckin’ Gray Dragons gang decided to get greedy. Now, he had to tell Copper that some two-bit gangbanger and his band of merry assholes was coming for the club. They wanted to steal the Handler’s business, sure, but mostly it was a power play. Show of force. Flexing muscles.

  Drive out the local outlaw MC and become top dog.

  The Gray Dragons had been around for over a decade. Small time gang nonsense, mostly. At least, in the beginning. Selling weed, pimping girls, petty robberies. They operated about thirty miles out of Townsend and had mostly kept to their side of the proverbial tracks. Apparently, they’d grown over the years. Gotten their dicks hard over a little extra cash and, suddenly, they wanted a larger piece of the pie.

  Namely heroin. And since the MC stopped dealing in that shit before Zach prospected, the Gray Dragons didn’t view them as competition. But, apparently, they did view Hell’s Handlers’ territory fair game to distribute their garbage.

  It was a problem.

  A big, fucking problem.

  Heroin could bring cops, Feds, and all sorts of shit to Townsend. Beyond that, it was Hell’s Handlers’ town and that should have been enough to keep the Dragons out. They wouldn’t stop at peddling heroin through Townsend. In fact, that was the really bad news he had for Copper. The Dragons were slowly buying up debts owed to the Handlers. A way to gain support and cut the MC off at the knees. And they’d been the ones responsible for the attack on some of the girls who worked at the club-owned strip joint.

  Worry tightened Zach’s worn out muscles. A turf war between the Handlers and the Dragons wouldn’t end well. He could feel it in his bones.