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“Where’s Beth today?” Zach asked. Sometimes, on Sunday mornings, Shell didn’t have childcare and brought Beth to the diner with her. Toni never minded. Everyone loved Beth to pieces.

“She’s in the kitchen sweet talking Ernesto into putting extra chocolate chips in her pancakes.” As she spoke about her daughter, her fake smile morphed into a genuine one. Nothing got a mom beaming like mention of their adorable child.

Only problem was, she hadn’t so much as glanced in Copper’s direction. Not once. She spoke to Mav, Zach, and Jig but wouldn’t give him the time of day.

Well, he fucking deserved it. But he wasn’t one to avoid conflict so he said, “Shell, can I talk to you a sec?”

Finally, she turned to him and the happiness slid right off her face. She wasn’t even pretending anymore. “Sorry, Copper, this fucking kid has three tables waiting on food.” Then she turned and for the first time in her life, dismissed him.

A sick feeling settled in the pit of his stomach, followed by anger. As president of the MC, he was used to people jumping on his command. Shell was the one person who repeatedly defied him to his face, and he always let her get away with it. “Goddammit, woman,” he yelled as he slipped out of the booth. Just as he was about to chase her down and drag her into Toni’s office, his phone rang.

“Fuck!”

It was the prison.

“I need to take this,” he said to his men who nodded.

“This is Copper,” he said into his cell as he shouldered the door open and stepped into the frigid winter air.

“A prisoner from the United States Penitentiary, Tucson Arizona would like to connect with you. Please say yes or press one to continue,” the pre-recorded voice said.

“Yes.” There was a click then about twenty seconds of the most God-awful hold music imaginable.

“Happy fucking birthday, old man.”

Copper’s face split into a grin. “Thanks, Rusty. Damn, it’s good to hear from you, brother. How you doing?”

Ten years Copper’s junior, Rusty was serving out a fifteen-year sentence for aggravated assault in a federal prison. The entire thing was bullshit. Rusty had been defending himself and while he did nearly beat a man to death, the punishment did not fit the crime. Hell, if it’d been Copper, he’d have killed the bastard.

“Hanging in like usual. Want to hear about your birthday though. Heard the boys were going all out. Bet there was some prime pussy there. Mmm mmm mmm. Fuck, I miss pussy.”

Copper’s heart clenched. Rusty was missing out on a lot more than just pussy. He still had years left on his sentence. About ten to be exact. When Copper was twenty and Rusty just ten, their parents were killed by a drunk driver. After that, they left Ireland and moved to Tennessee to be near family. Copper pretty much raised Rusty from that point on. Damn near broke his heart when his little brother was sent away. He cleared his throat. Wouldn’t do Rusty any good to have Copper getting all weepy. “Actually, Shell planned the whole thing. Did a good job, barely remember more than five minutes of the party.”

Rusty’s laugh was music to his ears. “Damn, brother, sounds like a righteous time. Please tell me at least part of your night was spent balls deep in something sweet and easy. Give me a story to fuel my imagination.”

Rolling his eyes, Copper huffed out a laugh. “Sure was.” Whatever Rusty needed to get him through the long, harsh days in prison, Copper would provide. Even if it was lies about his sex life. “Blond, stacked, and up for anything.” An image of Shell came to mind in a killer purple dress, lifting a glass in toast to him. Shit, was that what she’d looked like last night? Now he needed more of the party to come back to him. Especially if what Mav said was true and he’d had her in his lap.

“You’ve always been a blond man. Not me. Love me some dark hair. Hey, Cop, I got something to tell you.” Excitement laced Rusty’s voice. “Think you’re gonna be pretty pumped.”

“What is it, brother? They change your work order?” He’d been stuck on laundry duty for the last year and bitched about it every chance he got.

“Nah, bit better than that.”

“Well spit it out. You got me curious now.”

“Turns out, I’m a model fucking prisoner.”

Copper sucked in a breath and held it, his heart pounding. Was Rusty about to say what Copper had been hoping for every single day since the trial?”

“Two months, brother.” Rusty choked up a bit, then sniffed, and said in a stronger voice, “Two fucking months and I’m coming home.”

He blinked, afraid to believe the words. “You’re shitting me. Tell me you’re not shitting me.”

“Not shitting you, Cop. Wouldn’t do that to you.”

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