by Lilly Atlas
“Exactly,” Joe replied. “You get me my cash, I’ll have Lefty delivered to you alive and kicking.”
Zach faced Copper, his eyes imploring. For a second, Copper let the thrill of having Lefty in his custody wash over him. The motherfucker deserved everything that’d be coming to him, and a lot of pain was headed his way. “Deal,” he said then turned to Zach. “Give him your number, Z.” Then to Joe, “You can send Zach the information he needs to collect your money.”
Pulling out his phone, Joe lifted his chin then entered the digits as Zach rattled them off. “You’ll have what you need by tomorrow.”
Copper stood and nodded at Joe. Immediately, Zach followed suit and Rusty pushed away from the bar. There’d be no handshakes, no fist bumps, no slaps, no pounding on each other’s back. No one here liked each other. Just held a grudging respect for the fact that they ran successful operations in the same crooked underworld and wanted no trouble. Honor among thieves kind of thing.
Once they were outside, Copper took his first full breath. The sun still warmed the air but would be dwindling by the time they returned home. The temperature was warmer than it had been over the past few weeks and was slated to continue that way which was why they’d rode their bikes. Driving in a cage sucked, and they only did it when the alternative was hypothermia.
“So how we gonna play this?” Rusty asked when they reached their bikes.
“What do you mean?” Zach asked.
“Well, we ain’t fucking doing this asshole’s dirty work. We just paid him a shit ton of money, above what Shell actually owed. Now we’re gonna do him favors? Do his job for him? Don’t fucking think so, right, Cop?”
With a roll of his eyes, Zach zipped up his leather Handlers’ jacket. “Seems to me like you forgot the fucking meaning of brotherhood while you were locked up.” As he spoke, he threw his thick leg over his bike.
“Fuck you,” Rusty said, starting for Zach. This wouldn’t be like Mav or even Jig. Zach wouldn’t suffer an underserved punch. He’d fight back, and both men would end up damaged. Which would make the ride home suck.
Copper slammed a hand against Rusty’s chest, stopping his forward progression. “Shut the fuck up, both of you.” Standing between the two snorting bulls with one hand on Rusty’s chest and the other extended toward Zach, Copper turned toward his brother. “Rust, we ain’t doing anyone any favors. This is price of doing business. I need something from him. Never expected him to hand over Lefty for free. Just be glad he ain’t asking us to sell his fucking meth.”
Rusty threw his hands up. “Jesus, bro, you think you got the better option? You know how much fucking money we could make selling his shit? Wasted fucking opportunity if you ask me.”
Copper narrowed his eyes and worked not to crack a molar. “Club makes plenty of fucking money. We walked away from that shit for a reason, Rusty. Way before you went away. You remember what it was like back then. A bloody fucking mess. Club’s not going down that road again. You hear me?”
“Loud and clear, Prez,” Rusty said, the title dripping with sarcasm. He stalked toward his bike, mounted, then rode off in a thick cloud of dust before Copper even made a move toward his bike.
“Fuck,” Copper bit out.
“Pretty much sums it up,” Zach said.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“LOOK, MOMMY, I’M doing it. I’m doing it!” Beth screamed with extra loud glee. Typically, Shell would have her take it down a notch, but her excitement was so genuine and uninhibited, she figured a few shrill yells wouldn’t hurt.
Her little legs pumped in and out as she worked the swing back and forth, her smile so wide it took up her entire small face. A pang hit Shell’s heart. Silly, really, but each time Beth learned a new skill, she needed her mother a little less, and that was a hard pill for Shell to swallow. She’d been Beth’s everything since day one, and it wouldn’t be long before she wasn’t needed at all.
“Jesus,” she muttered as she watched her daughter swing higher and higher, still shrieking with happiness. Here Beth was just swinging solo for the first time, and Shell had her moving out of the house in her mind. “Dramatic much?” she asked the wind.
“What Mommy?”
“Just said you’re doing a great job, baby!” she called to her playground-loving kiddo. The air had finally warmed, so Shell decided a day of much-needed outdoor play was just what the doctor ordered. Copper had out of town business to take care of, but he’d checked in about a half hour ago. He was on his way and planned to meet them when he rolled into town.
Beth swung so high, the chain slackened for a second. “Whoa!” she yelled. “Mommy, I think I’m too good at bumping my legs! I almost flipped over the top!”
“It’s pumping, Bethy,” Shell said with a laugh. There was nothing like the pure and innocent joy of an excited child to make the world look rosy again. It was a reminder Shell needed as she’d been noticing a black cloud hovering overhead.
“I said that, Mommy. I said bumping. Weee,” she called as she swung up high once again.
Shell clapped for her daughter. All of a sudden, the hair on the back of her neck stood straight on end. Something was off. She immediately closed the distance to Beth, standing next to her daughter as she swung. Scanning the area, Shell looked for something that could be responsible for her unease.
“What’s wrong, Mommy?” Beth relaxed her legs, and the swing lost much of its height.
Shell forced a smile even as she remained alert and on the lookout for danger. “Nothing’s wrong. Just wanted to be closer to you.” There was no point in alarming Beth unless absolutely necessary, though Shell was ready to rip her daughter from the swing and run if it came to that.
As she glanced around at the vacant park, heart racing and nerves skittering up her spine, she frowned. Had she fabricated this entire concern? Not usually one to overreact or search for monsters lurking in the closet, Shell had always trusted her instincts. Wasn’t like them to serve her wrong.
Just as she was about to shake off the paranoia, she caught sight of a man walking across the opposite side of the park. Shell tensed, gazed fixed on the man as he met up with another, smaller guy. The shorter one wore baggie jeans, hanging to his knees. A black hoodie shielded his face. They shook hands. Too far to hear, Shell squinted her eyes and took an automatic step forward for a better look.
“Mommy?”
“Shh,” she said, attention only partly on Beth. “How about we play the quiet game, Beth. You keep swinging, and let’s see who can stay quietest for longest. Okay?”
“Okay. That sounds fun. I’m gonna beat you.”
One of the men fished what looked like a meth pipe from his pocket and heated it up. Not totally surprising since Copper told her there’d been an uptick in meth sales in the area. “Okay, honey. Be quiet starting now.”
Beth fell silent, only the occasional squeak coming from the swing.
Confident her daughter was taken care of for the moment, Shell paced a few more steps away from the swing set. Was the taller man wearing…
Oh shit.
He was wearing a Handlers cut. Oh, my God. Shell’s stomach rolled, and her knees nearly buckled. As the identity of the larger man became clear.
Rusty.
She didn’t dare breathe, as though that would somehow keep her from being discovered. Rooted in place, Shell gaped at the scene before her. The men passed the pipe back and forth then the smaller man pulled a brown paper package out of his backpack. Rusty inspected it, nodded, then handed over an envelope before stowing the package in a bag on his own back. The men spoke for a minute before the smaller one counted the money.
Holy shit, that was a tall stack of bills. Any chance they were singles? Probably not. Where the hell did Rusty get that kind of cash?
Her stomach clenched.
Oh no. No, no, no. He wouldn’t dare…She almost laughed at her own naive thoughts. He sure as hell would. Rusty was exactly the type of man who’d steal from his own club and use it to buy dr
ugs. Although with that size package, he was probably selling as well as using.
She should not be witnessing this exchange.
“Come on, Beth,” Shell whispered, turning toward her daughter. “We gotta go now.”
“What?” Beth whined, face crumbling. “Copper isn’t here yet. I don’t wanna go!” Her voice rose with the hysteria children got as they teetered on the edge of a full-on tantrum. Any other day, Shell wouldn’t give in to that kind of behavior. But now? Priority number one was sneaking away unnoticed. “Yes, we have to go. If you leave with me now, we’ll go get ice cream.” She’d bribe her daughter with the Hope diamond if it got her off that damn swing.
“Okay!” Beth yelled making Shell flinch.
Shell risked a glance over. Rusty was stalking straight toward them about half the distance he’d been, his long stride eating up the inches.
Shit! Her hands shook as she reached for the chain to stop the swing, then thought better of it. They’d never make it to her car before Rusty caught up to them and she didn’t want him within spitting distance of her daughter. “You know what, honey?” Shell said as she worked to keep her voice from shaking. “Changed my mind. Keep swinging.” She wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans then gave Beth a push to get her going again. “Whatever you do, Beth, do not get off this swing. Do you hear me?”
“Yes, Mommy.”
“Say it to me, Beth.”
“Stay on the swing.”
“Good girl. I’ll be right over there where I can see you.” Shell pointed toward Rusty right before she took off at a jog on legs that felt like rubber bands, meeting him as far from her daughter as she could manage.
“You spying on me, doll?” Rusty said, grinning as though he hadn’t just been caught red-handed.
Like she didn’t have a million better things to do with her time than follow him around?
“No Rusty. What the hell do you want?” Shell glanced around and let out a breath of relief. Whoever he’d been meeting with was long gone. But that meant there was not another soul in sight. No one around to hear her scream. For the next few moments at least. “Copper is meeting us here any second. You need to leave now.”
He smirked, and her stomach dropped. Each and every time he’d come to her in the past, that smug king-of-the-world smirk taunted her. In the five years he’d been behind bars, that smirk hadn’t changed one bit. Memories, all unpleasant and unwanted, assaulted her.
Clothes off, blondie, got something for you.
What, Rusty? Now?
Right fucking now. Get naked and get on the bed. Spread your legs.
Rusty, we can’t do this now. Copper is going to be here any second to fix the leaky faucet in the bathroom. We had to schedule it while my mom was out so she wouldn’t freak.
Guess you better hurry then, huh? Stop running your trap and get ready to be fucked.
Rusty! We can’t now.
Need I remind you why we can and will do it now?
And then the smirk would appear. No, he’d never needed to remind her. For the three years he’d owned her body, he never once needed to remind her. Though he did, often and cruelly.
“Hey!” He snapped his fingers in front of her face. “Where the fuck did you go?”
Shell jumped then glanced toward the swings. Thankfully, Beth played, blissfully unaware of the monster nearby.
“Nowhere. What do you want?” she snapped.
He stroked the beard that needed some serious TLC. Instead of sexy, like his big brother’s facial hair, Rusty’s looked about three weeks past the need for a trim. For whatever reason, it wasn’t growing in evenly, and some tufts were longer than others. After an inhale, she wrinkled her nose. He also smelled…like—
“Pussy,” he said with a wink.
“Excuse me?”
“Had a pretty wild fucking night last night. Didn’t have time for a shower. Probably smell like pussy. A few of them.”
Her wrinkled nose turned into a full-on grimace of disgust. “You’re a pig, Rusty. I’ll ask you one more time before I leave to be with my daughter. What the fuck do you want?” She jammed her trembling hands on her hips and tried to make her whopping five-foot-two inches look bigger and at least somewhat menacing.
“Whose daughter?” he asked, the smirk-from-hell growing even more arrogant.
I hate him. I hate him.
“What. Do. You. Want.”
He threw back his head and laughed. God, how she’d love to hit him. But first off, her daughter was present, and she needed someone in her life who didn’t condone violence since she sure as hell wasn’t going to get that lesson from her many uncles and definitely not her Aunt Izzy. Sometimes, Shell wished for Izzy’s courage. Izzy would rip Rusty’s nuts off and force him to eat them. Shell just didn’t have that in her.
“Well, doll, I want to know what you think you just saw.”
“What?” She faked it harder than she’d ever faked anything in her life. “I’m just here playing with my daughter, Rusty. Told you I wasn’t spying on you.”
The narrowed eyes and continued smirk told her he wasn’t buying it. And that meant she’d been right. He’d stolen from the club and was using that money to buy meth. And probably sell it for quite a hefty profit.
She had to tell Copper.
And Rusty knew it.
He leaned close, the familiar scent of him rolling through her system like food poisoning. Shell bit her lower lip. Hard. Hopefully, the sting from her teeth would override the urge to vomit. “Still have that video, doll. You remember the one?”
I’m going to fuck you, Shell. Club pussy is great, but sometimes I want something a little less…broken in. Before you say no, let me show you a video.
Those were the words that turned her entire life upside down years ago. And she’d be damned if she’d allow him to control her again.
She forced a huff, working to sound incredulous instead of hysterical. “I’m not a kid anymore, Rusty. You don’t scare me like you used to.” She had resources now and an adults way of thinking and seeking help.
He shrugged like the words held no meaning. “I’m pretty sure I can get you to come around to my way of thinking.” The smirk disappeared, replaced by an ugly sneer. The man looked like he needed a shower with an iron scrub brush. “Thinking a girl needs her daddy in her life, know what I mean?” One red eyebrow arched.
Rusty had so many commonalities with Copper. Same green eyes, same red hair, similar height, and many mannerisms that mirrored each other. How could the brothers be so far apart in personality and morals?
Shell swallowed a rise of bile. This was all too familiar. The threats, the fear, the helplessness.
“What do you want?”
“Well, I’d love a repeat of our time together, wouldn’t you? But with you fucking my big bad brother, that might be a little harder this time around.” He winked. “I might be able to figure out a workaround though. You remember how it was back then?”
Quiet, doll. You know what the club’ll do to me if we’re caught, don’t you? And you know what that means for your precious Copper?
She shuddered. She remembered all right. Remembered countless nights crying herself to sleep. Remembered the shame, the guilt, the hatred, the feeling of being dirty no matter how many showers she took. Remembered the panic when the little stick had showed a plus sign. Remembered the all-consuming fear she wouldn’t be able to stomach holding her own child. Remembered the hours of therapy just to be able to look at herself in the mirror.
Yeah, she remembered it all.
“Go to hell, Rusty.”
He folded his arms across his chest and scoffed. “Been there, blondie. Ain’t going back. But Copper, now he could very well end up where I was, couldn’t he? Except for much longer. For the rest of his life.”
The very same dread that threat caused eight years ago rose in her and her vision tunneled. In all her life, nothing else had brought on the intense, visceral reaction Rusty’s threat invoked.
Copper in jail for murder.
For the rest of his life. So much for her not giving into the fear.
She was shaking now, unable to control her body’s reaction to his words.
“You saw nothing today. You hear me, bitch? Not a goddamn thing. And you don’t say a goddamn word about me to my brother. Not unless you want your man in a cell and your daughter splitting time with me.”
The world grew hazy and her chest constricted to the point she couldn’t drag in air. Over her dead body would Rusty spend ten seconds alone with her daughter. She was so fucked. Loyalty to the club was the most important thing in the men’s lives. Rusty’s betrayal, his thievery from the club, was an offense that would never be overlooked. If she kept it a secret, she was just as guilty as he was.
But the alternative? Jailtime for Copper and possible custody for Rusty?. That was a fate worse than anything the MC could dish out.
“Mommy! Mommy, look! Copper is here!” Beth dragged her feet through the dirt under the swing, slowing to a stop. She then took off at a dead run and threw herself into Copper’s waiting arms. He may have caught her daughter and now held her close to his chest, but his eyes were glued to where she and Rusty were talking.
And, yikes, he wasn’t pleased. Those huge booted feet gobbled up the distance across the park.
“Mouth shut,” Rusty said. “We’ll talk soon.” Then he threw a cheerful wave toward his brother, turned, and hightailed it out of there.
For all his bravado, the man was nothing more than a chicken.
Shell sucked in two shaky breaths and plastered a smile on her face before she went to meet her daughter and the man she wished with all her heart was that little girl’s father. Dangerous thinking, right there. Reality was so very different.
As she moved to be near the two people she loved above all else, she felt disconnected from the world. Her body advanced at a slow pace, but her mind raced with a thousand worries and doubts.
“What was he doing here?” Copper said without so much as a hello. His narrowed gaze tracked Rusty’s retreating form.
“Oh, uh, nothing. Just passing through, I guess. He said hi then took off.” Shit, did her voice crack? Was anything believable about her wooden smile and stiff posture? Try as she might, calm, cool, and collected wasn’t happening.