by Lilly Atlas
Copper could practically see Jig’s stony expression through the phone. This shit had his treasurer fucking pissed.
“Know it, Cop. Guessing someone got in the safe.”
“What the fuck!” He started to throw his legs over the side of the bed as violent anger heated his blood, but Shell swung her slender leg across his lap and straddled him, pushing him back down to the pillow. Sitting astride him, she rubbed his chest, and he found himself able to rein in the fury caused by Jig’s shocking revelation. “You and I are the only ones who know the combination to that safe.”
“So we thought.”
“You saying someone knows it and just opened the fucker right up?”
“That’s what I’m saying, Cop. There’s no damage to the safe. We put cameras in my office but not yours which was a mistake I’ll have Maverick remedy today. We need to catch this motherfucker.”
Shell’s soft hands soothed circles on his abdomen, the only thing keeping him grounded and able to control the rage bubbling close to the surface. Without her, he’d have lost his legendary control for sure. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, most scattered far and wide. Not Shell. She always stuck around and helped calm him. Since long before he’d given in to his desire for her. “Church at eight this morning. I don’t care if you have to personally yank every fucking member of the club out of their beds. No one misses this fucking meeting. You hear me?”
“Yeah, Cop. I’ll get the word out. See you in a few hours.”
“I’ll be in soon.” He disconnected the call and stared at the ceiling. Three times. Three separate times one of the men he considered family, one of the men he’d have given his life for, stole from him.
He didn’t even have an inkling of who it could be. If someone asked him two weeks ago, he’d have said there was no fucking way one of the Handlers would steal from the club. Clearly, his judgment wasn’t as sound as he thought.
“Hey,” a soft voice said from above. “I know I’m not supposed to listen, but I’m pretty nosey.” Shell’s sheepish smile made him chuckle. “So, I’ll probably eavesdrop a lot.”
He placed his hands on her hips letting the feel of her flow through him. “It’s all right baby. If you weren’t here, I’d have lost my shit.”
“Look,” she said as her face pinked. “I’ve known you a long time, and I’ve been smitten with you for almost as long as I’ve known you.”
Hmm…he liked where this conversation was going.
“So, I think I know you pretty well. You’re questioning your judgment? Feeling unfit as a leader, am I right?”
Shit, she did know him. He nodded, fingers kneading the fleshy skin just above her hips.
“Stop that bullshit,” she said in a harsh tone that had him barking out a laugh.
Probably her goal.
With her own small laugh, she played with the smattering of hair on his chest. “I just mean that this doesn’t have a damn thing to do with you. You’ve got a rotten apple in your bunch, and you’ll deal with it. Not your fault. The rest of your men are solid to the core, and any one of them would willingly follow you into hell. Focus on them.”
A fierce lioness, that’s what Shell reminded him of. Loving and protecting her chosen family until her last breath. Which made perfect sense. Lions were king of the jungle; the lioness their queen.
And he’d make Shell his queen if it was the last damn thing he did. The moment the club’s shit was sorted, he’d be demanding answers. It was time to move forward with Shell, and it wouldn’t happen until he knew the details of whatever held her back.
“You heading in?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
She sucked her lower lip between her teeth. “You got time for something first?”
“Sure, got a few minutes. What’d you have in mind?” His cock had filled to capacity once again. With Shell astride him, wet pussy dripping all over his stomach, plump tits staring at him, who could blame him?
“For you to fuck me until I’m screaming,” she said as she rose up, gripped his thick cock, and slid down until he was buried to the root. “Shit.” She echoed his thoughts. Her eyes fluttered closed. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to how huge you are. You fill me so damn good.”
He was one lucky fucking bastard.
After taking a moment to adjust to his penetration, Shell’s eyes popped open. “Ready, big boy?” she asked, wagging her eyebrows.
“Bring it, baby.”
And she did, riding him until they both collapsed in a tangle of sweaty limbs and heaving breath.
Two hours later, Copper sat at the head of the table staring at the grim faces of his men. Any of the pressure relief a good romp with his woman provided had vanished the moment he entered the clubhouse. It did help to see Rusty at the table. Sure, things had been a bit rocky as far as his integration back into the club, but having his blood brother at the table meant a lot. Meant he had Copper and the club’s back. They’d get past whatever was eating at Rusty with time. One of the men, however, was missing.
“Where the fuck’s Rocket?” Copper turned to Jig.
With a shrug, Jig said, “Couldn’t get him, Prez. Called about ten times. Texted double that. Went by his house and anywhere else I could think of. His ass is in the wind.”
No. Fuck no. No way in fucking hell Rocket was stealing from the club.
Was he?
Goddammit. He hated uncertainty. The inability to trust men he’d counted on to watch his ass a number of times.
“All right. Anyone sees him later, I wanna chat with him. I’m gonna get straight fucking to it. Fifteen thousand dollars has been stolen from debts we’ve collected.” He held his hand up when murmurs rounded the table. “Shut your fucking mouths. It ends today. I want to know who it is. You’re done with the club. Now, you nut up and come to me on your own, I’ll think about letting you walk out with your bones intact. I find out another way, and I fucking will find out, you might need to be carried out instead. Not that a single man here would so much as toss a cup of water on you if you were burning. Not anymore.”
Tension shot to a palpable level. Copper stood and rested his palms on the table. The men knew he was pissed and they knew one of them was to blame. Mistrust was rampant. They eyed each other across the table trying to determine who was the thief among them. This kind of thing was hell on club morale. He gave them a minute, letting his message sink in.
“That’s all I’m going to say about that for now. I’m too fucking pissed to talk about it further. We got a possible lead on Lefty. Someone who might be able to deliver him to our door. But we gotta do them a favor. Collect a few debts for him. Should be a cakewalk since we do this shit all the time. Zach will get with you if he needs you in on it.”
The men perked up slightly. Lefty being handed over on a silver platter was just about better than sex...just about. Too bad it was tainted by a traitor betraying the club. Hopefully, when all was said and done, getting a little revenge on Lefty would boost club morale after losing a member. Because a member would be lost. Didn’t matter if the money was stolen to fund one of his men’s mother’s cancer treatment. Stealing from the club was a hard and fast fucking no.
“That’s it for now.” He did a slow perusal of the men sitting at the table, pausing to make eye contact with each and every one of them. Well, all but one. Rusty played on his phone, looking bored as hell. So much for having his back and being invested in the club. “My door is open if you got something to tell me. Rust, want to talk to you for a few.”
Rusty rolled his eyes and Copper had the distinct feeling he was raising an attitude-laden teenager. He’d pretty much already done that being the one to raise Rusty after they moved from Ireland. At the time, he’d tolerated it, maybe more than he should have, but who could really blame him. Rusty had just lost his only parent, been ripped from his home, and thrust into an entirely new country. Some pushback was to be expected. Granted, Copper had been so busy with the club at the time, he
probably didn’t parent Rusty as much as he should have, but for a twenty-year-old suddenly responsible for a ten-year-old, he thought he did all right.
Copper sat behind the desk. Rusty strode in two seconds later. “Sup, Cop.”
“Just checking in after yesterday. You were pretty steamed when you took off.”
Rusty shrugged. “Wasn’t nothing. I’m over it.” He moved into the room and took an empty seat. “But I still think you’re missing an opportunity for some big fucking paydays.”
“Selling meth?”
“Meth, heroin, Molly, whatever the fuck the people want.” Rusty propped his boots on the edge of the desk.
“Club’s been down that road already brother. Nearly destroyed us. Destroys most clubs or gangs in the end.”
With a laugh, Rusty said, “So? You earn enough, and it don’t matter. Don’t you ever get fucking sick of managing these assholes?”
“No.” Voice hard, Copper stared at his brother. “You want out, Rust? That what your shit attitude is about? Done with MC life? If that’s it, grow some fuckin’ balls and tell me. Until then, shut the fuck up and start acting like you wanna be here. Got it?”
Rusty stood and tossed his smoldering cigarette into Copper’s ashtray. “Fuck this shit,” he said. “Need some fucking pussy.” He tromped out of the office. “Becky!” he shouted. “Five minutes, in my room, on your knees.”
That went well. Copper pinched the bridge of his nose where an ache seemed to start and shoot out across his forehead. The day would have been much better if he could have stayed in bed with his woman.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
THE PERFECT OPPORTUNITY had been presented to Shell, and she’d chickened out.
Big time.
The entire time she’d been in bed with Copper listening to his phone call about the stolen money, her mind had been screaming at her to confess what she’d seen. To share her information about Rusty. But the words wouldn’t leave her mouth. Part of it was fear due to Rusty’s very real threats. Part of it was her desire to comfort an agitated Copper at that moment instead of adding to his heavy burdens by ruining his relationship with his brother. And a third part was the paralyzing fear that once she opened her mouth, she’d never stop talking and would vomit out her entire horrifying past which would effectively put an end to her relationship with Copper.
Could she be more selfish?
While she’d been riding them both to an explosive release, Shell had convinced herself she’d made the right decision. Her man had needed her to ground him. He’d needed her to take the edge off so he could meet his club having a clear head and calm emotions. But now, a few hours later, she saw her actions for what they really were—cowardice and selfishness.
What the hell was she supposed to do now?
“Girl,” Izzy said, sidling up beside the treadmill Shell was currently running on. “What’s going on with you this morning? You barely said two words in the car, and now you’re running like the devil himself is chasing down your ass.”
She was right. Shell panted as she pumped her legs faster than she ever had before to keep up with the speed of the revolving belt. Screw it. The run wasn’t helping to escape her thoughts or settle her anxiety. She jammed her forefinger on the minus button until she slowed to a swift walk. Legs aching with exhaustion, she wanted nothing more than to lie down and take a nap.
“Izzy, how are you ten weeks pregnant and still have this much energy?” Shell asked as she slowed the treadmill further. “You’re supposed to be sick to your stomach and falling asleep all over the place.” She hit the stop button, hopped off the machine, then flopped onto a mat directly behind the row of cardio equipment.
Her friend didn’t seem to mind that Shell had ignored her question. “That how you were?” Izzy hovered over Shell’s head, hands on her hips, peering down.
“Not the sick part, but I was constantly tired for the first few months. Didn’t matter if I slept twelve straight hours, I could barely keep my eyes open throughout the day.”
“Huh,” Izzy said, extending a hand toward Shell. “At night I’m more tired than usual, but I feel pretty good during the day.”
“How nice for you.” Shell allowed a snickering Izzy to tug her to her feet. The OB had informed her friend she was strictly forbidden to fight in the ring, even sparring was off limits, but she could stick to her regular exercise routine as long as she was feeling well. About a month ago, Izzy coerced Shell into joining her at the gym, and now they tried to work out together whenever Shell found the time to get there. Which was the reason her muscles were screaming at her at nine a.m. on a Wednesday. Beth was at school, the men at the clubhouse, and she wasn’t scheduled at the diner.
Perfect time to put herself through some pain in the form of cardiovascular exertion.
Zach came strolling out from the back rooms of the gym. The employee parking lot was behind the building with an entrance there as well. He lifted his chin in their direction before making his way to the check-in desk.
“Looks like church is out. You know what’s going on?” Izzy asked as she uncapped her water bottle.
Shell shrugged and reached for her own drink. She’d never betray Copper’s confidence, even for her girlfriends.
“I’m pretty sure you do, and I won’t mention specifics, but I know a little as well. I was with Jig last night when he discovered the…discrepancy. This shit’s gotta be fucking with Copper’s head.”
After swallowing a cooling gulp of water, Shell said, “You have no idea.”
“This the reason you seem off today?”
“Part of it.”
“You know,” Izzy said, reaching out and grabbing Shell’s hand. “I may be a snarky bitch most of the time, but I can listen. You seem like your struggling today. Need an ear?”
She needed more than an ear. She needed someone to tell her whether or not to let Copper know what she saw and how to deal with the blowback. Could she talk to Izzy about it? Her friend already knew about Beth’s paternity. Maybe she could help Shell sort her thoughts and come up with a plan.
Izzy was a ballbuster, a real take-no-shit woman. Had she been the sixteen-year-old Rusty tried to blackmail, she’d probably have kicked his ass, stolen the video, ripped off his dick, and delivered it all to Copper in a nicely wrapped package with a big red bow. Shell couldn’t imagine Izzy ever being as afraid as she’d been back then.
And was right then.
She looked Izzy in the eye. As always, Izzy had her hair back in a flawless Dutch braid. The bottom layer was shaved which only accentuated her badass vibe. Even ten weeks pregnant, Izzy could model the workout clothes she wore. She was the epitome of sleek strength. “Actually, I could use some advice if you have the time.”
“For you? Always. What’s up?”
Shell bit her lower lip. “Not in here.”
Eyes narrowing, Izzy nodded. “So it’s that kind of conversation. Okay, ready to call it quits in here? I told Jig I’d find him at the clubhouse when church let out. We can talk in the car.”
“Yeah, that works. I don’t have to pick Beth up for a few hours, so I planned to go to the clubhouse after this anyway.”
Izzy waved the hand holding her giant water bottle. “Let’s go see your man.”
Shell smiled. Everyone had been calling Copper her man for the past few weeks. The phrase still sent a thrill through her each and every time she heard it. Would it always be like that? Or would the novelty eventually wane?
She almost snorted. It would certainly wane. Probably down to absolutely nothing when Copper found out he was her daughter’s uncle.
After a quick hug and hello for Zach, they left through the front entrance and stared around the parking lot. “Where the fuck’s my car?” Izzy asked. “Holy shit! Did someone steal my car? I swear this fucking parking lot is cursed.” A few months back, Izzy was attacked leaving Zach’s gym.
Shell burst out laughing. “We parked around back. How could you forget? Oh my Go
d, you freaked right out. That was hilarious.”
Shooting her a sideways death glare, Izzy said, “I have baby brain, what’s your excuse? You came in with me, and you didn’t remember where the car was either.”
Rather than walk back inside then out again through the back door, they headed around the outside of the building. “Yeah, but I didn’t start screaming about being carjacked.”
“I was not screaming, biatch,” Izzy said as she led the way to her car. Once they were inside with the doors closed, she immediately turned to Shell. “Okay, spill your guts, girl. I can see something is eating you. Are you stressing about being with Copper?”
With a harsh chuckle, Shell rested her head back on the seat. “No. Well, yes, but that’s not what this is about.” She turned, giving Izzy her full attention. “I have to say it fast or I’ll lose it, so just let me get it all out.”
“All right.” Izzy furrowed her brow.
“Yesterday I was at the playground with Beth. I saw two men smoking a pipe—I think it had meth—across the park. One was Rusty. I should have grabbed Beth and run, but I was so shocked, I couldn’t move. Anyway, Rusty handed a huge wad of cash to the guy and was given a large parcel of what I assume was meth in return.”
The fighter in Izzy came out full force as she clenched her fists and tensed behind the wheel. “Holy shit. He motherfucking stole from the club and is using that to buy and sell meth.”
Looked like great minds did think alike. “My thoughts exactly, which were confirmed when Rusty spotted me and threatened me if I breathed a word of it to Copper.”
A long breath left Izzy. “And now you’re stuck between one big rock and a very hard place.”
“Pretty much,” Shell whispered. “I have no idea what to do, Iz. Copper raised Rusty. He feels paternal toward him. This will kill him.” She threw her hands in the air. “If he even believes me. But how can I not tell him? I may not be a patched member, but my loyalty has always been to the club.” Tears filled her eyes. Despite the challenges life threw at her, it wasn’t often Shell cried. At one time, she’d wondered if she’d used up her allotment of tears as a teen. “He threatened to try and get custody of my baby,” she whispered.