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“Okay!” Beth said with way more excitement than the task called for. As she scampered off to the low cabinet that held her shatterproof cups, she said, “I go to preschool today?”
“I don’t know, honey. You’re really feeling good?”
“Super good! Please, mommy. I want to see my friends.” She did a little dance in place that reminded Shell of R2D2 rocking back and forth with anticipation.
There was a lot more healthy color in Beth’s face, and her appetite seemed to have returned. She held a hand to her daughter’s forehead. Definitely no fever. And being Wednesday, it was Shell’s morning off from the diner. She could really use a few hours to herself to just…be alone and quietly process everything that had happened the night before.
“All right. You win. School it is.”
“Yes!” Beth pumped a tiny fist in the air then held it out to Shell. “Pound it, Mom,” she said, face totally serious.
“Pound it?” Shell snorted out a laugh. “Let me guess, one of your uncles showed you that one.”
Small white teeth gleamed through Beth’s smile. “No, it was Copper. He’s not my uncle, he’s my best friend.”
Ugh, no one knew how to send a shot straight to the heart better than a child. Copper treated Beth like she was a princess and he was her humble servant, spoiling her every chance he got. She had that man, and most of the rough and gruff Handlers, firmly under her sparkly pink spell.
“Boom,” Beth said as Shell touched her fist to her daughters. “Don’t forget to explode.” She made a loud blast noise and wiggled her fingers.
Shell couldn’t help it, she threw her head back and laughed. Nothing put her in a good mood quite like some time with her playful daughter.
They ate an uneventful meal then Shell helped Beth get ready for school. Since Beth didn’t complain of a single ache or pain the entire time, Shell assumed it was safe to send her to school. Once Beth was all ready to leave, Shell set her up watching cartoons while she got herself ready. “I’ll just be fifteen minutes, honey.”
“Okay, Mommy,” Beth answered, already lost in the world of computer-generated characters.
When she reached her room, Shell tore off her clothes and took one of her patented four-minute showers complete with hair wash. As she stood outside her bathroom, trying to decide what to wear, a white slip of paper on top of the dresser caught her eye.
“What the…” Clad only in her favorite bra and panty set, she walked to her dresser only to find a note folded around a stack of hundred-dollar bills. Written in Copper’s chicken scratch were the words:
For last night.
Shell frowned. That bastard. Was this the reason he stayed? So he could pay her back the money he knew she’d never take? She absolutely despised taking money from the club. Work was how she earned her money. Working hard, and working well. She and Beth were not a charity case, and while they didn’t have excess, she was able to provide her child with everything she needed. Getting Joe to stop harassing her was one thing. Leaving cash on her dresser was quite another.
Oh my God. She pressed a hand against her stomach as breakfast threatened to make a repeat appearance. Was this the reason Copper spooned her all night? To soften her up and make her accept the money? A hot flush of humiliation stole over her.
“Who the hell does he think he is?” she said aloud into the empty room. “Well, fuck that.” Slamming through the drawers on a mission, Shell shoved her legs into some black skinny jeans then reached for a T-shirt. A mischievous smile curled her lips, and she dropped the T-shirt back in the drawer then moved to the closet.
If Copper thought he could dictate her actions, he had another think coming. She reached into the back of the closet where she’d stashed a shirt Toni made her purchase a few weeks ago. Admittedly, it looked fantastic on her but showed off a little more boob than Shell was used to. Maybe back in the day before she’d had Beth, she’d have rocked something so revealing, but nowadays she leaned toward more coverage.
Not today.
Copper wanted to pay her?
She was happy to make him pay.
“I WANT TO put it to a vote,” Copper said as he rested his elbows on his desk.
In a chair on the opposite side of the desk with his feet propped up, Jigsaw snorted. “You know every brother here will vote to pay her back the money, but you also know Shell won’t take a damn cent if it’s club money.”
Shit.
Jig was right. “We’ll make her fucking take it,” Copper grumbled.
Now Jig was outright laughing at him. The bastard hadn’t laughed for over six years, and now that he had a consistent woman in his bed every night he thought life was fucking roses and sunshine.
