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She’d disappeared into the wind. Not a call, not a text, not so much as a fucking telegram. He’d considered tracking her down a few times, but what was the point? If she wanted nothing to do with him, who was he to fuck with her life? Whatever unhealthy obsession he’d developed for her would fade in time. Until then, he’d just have to get used to a prolonged case of blue balls.
“Get you guys anything else?” Toni asked from Zach’s lap.
“We’re good, babe. Actually, can you give us a few minutes to chat? Don’t send anyone over.” Zach gave her that pointed look that said club business, and Toni nodded.
“You bet.” She started to rise, but Copper put his mitt-sized hand over hers, holding it to the table. Her eyes widened comically. Copper wasn’t one to go around being all sweet with anybody. Except Shell’s daughter. Whenever Beth was around, he turned into a red-headed teddy bear.
“Hold on a minute, doll.” He cast an apologetic look at Zach. “Got a question for you.”
Toni looked between him and Zach. Worry lines marred her forehead when she took in Zach’s tense posture and narrowed eyes. “Cop,” he said in a warning tone.
“What’s going on?” Toni asked, still bobbing her gaze between her ol’ man and the prez.
“Sorry, Zach, but it’s gotta be done.” He gave Toni the respect of looking her right in the eye. “You ever hear of a guy named Lefty, doll?”
The color drained from Toni’s face so fast it looked like a video on fast forward. “Lefty?” she croaked. “Yeah, I know him. Knew him.” As his name left her lips, she seemed to curl in on herself, shoulders slumping, arms crossed over her chest. Shit. That could only mean one thing.
“He, uh, he is—was Shark’s cousin. They were close, uh, very close.” She cleared her throat and stared at a tiny nick in the table where her fingernail scraped over it again and again. “Close enough to share. Everything.”
Behind her, Zach growled and wrapped his arms around his woman. All four men at the table kept their focus on their plates. They all knew exactly what her statement meant. Toni had a bit of a rough past. She’d been Shark’s girlfriend years ago when she was a teen and he was angling for a seat at the big boys' table. He and his banger buddies had a nasty habit of passing their women around to other gang members, willing or not. Toni had some pretty nightmare-inducing memories from that time in her life.
And now she’d basically told them Lefty was one of the assholes in those nightmares.
“He’s taking up where Shark left off,” Copper told her. “He someone we should worry about?”
Getting some of her pluck back, Toni straightened and uncrossed her arms. “Well, he’s a sadistic, misogynistic son of a bitch. He’s dumber than Shark, but also crazier. An egomaniac who always needed to be right and be number one. So, I guess I’d say yes, he’ll be someone for the Handlers to worry about.”
Copper gripped his coffee mug so hard his meaty fist was in danger of pulverizing the thing. Mav could relate to the feeling. No doubt Zach felt ten times worse. “I’m most concerned with him trafficking women,” Copper said in full president mode. “If he tries to grow that business, they’ll be snagging women from our territory eventually. It’s just a matter of time.”
“Snagging women?” Toni’s soft echo of his words seemed to remind him he was in mixed company.
“Shit, sorry, doll. Nothing you need to worry about. Okay?”
Too bad Copper didn’t know Toni better. If he had, he could have saved himself the snort of derision and “bullshit” that came from her. Her back was iron-rod straight tense, and she looked ready for battle. “Look, I’m not trying to be all up the club’s private business, but as a woman who spent far too much time with those assholes, I can’t possibly pretend I didn’t hear that. There aren’t many reasons to kidnap women, so I can pretty much guess what they’re doing with them. I’d say if anyone was going to want a piece of that action, it’d be Lefty.”
“Fuck,” all four men said at the same time.
“Thanks, doll,” Copper said.
Zach whispered something in her ear that had her relaxing and nodding. Then she rose and made her way behind the counter where Shell was wringing out a rag in the sink that looked like she’d gotten all the water out ten minutes ago. The two women shared a look, then Toni squeezed Shell’s arm and disappeared into her office, leaving Shell chewing on her lip and still twisting the dry washrag.
For a moment, Maverick allowed himself to imagine it was Stephanie standing behind that counter, supporting him, worrying over him, waiting to go home and tear up the sheets with him. For the first time in his thirty-eight years, the idea of being attached to a woman wasn’t terrifying.
