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“That’s the other reason I never told anyone. I can’t live with that on my conscience.”
“His death?” Copper frowned.
She gripped his T-shirt. “No, not his death, but knowing you felt like you had to kill your own brother because of me. How are we supposed to have a life together when every time you look at me you think of how you killed your brother over me?”
Unfortunately, Shell had a small point. Not that he would ever blame her for Rusty’s death, that motherfucker sealed his own fate, but could he actually pull the trigger? Could he actually end the life of his own flesh and blood? Could he kill a man he’d loved and looked after his entire life?
One look at Shell’s tear-stained face and the anguish in her eyes and the answer was so clear it was practically transparent.
Fuck yes, he could end Rusty. He’d killed before and never once lost an ounce of sleep. Never wasted a moment on regret because the world was a better place for each life he’d taken.
“You’re wrong, Shell. After I end his miserable life, I won’t think of him ever again. I won’t waste one second of the time I have with you and Beth thinking about that piece of shit.”
“Copper…he’s still your brother.”
“No. He’s fucking not. If it helps, his fate was sealed for more reasons than what he did to you. He stole from the club. He partnered with Lefty.” Fuck, how could he have been so blind? Along with obsessing over Shell, he’d spent the last five days second guessing his ability to lead the MC. How would he hold the men’s trust if he couldn’t see his own brother was a sociopathic traitor? “Now tell me if he hurt you physically.”
Shell groaned and banged her forehead against his chest. “No. Not the way you mean. Sometimes it was…uncomfortable because I never wanted it, was never in the mood, if you know what I mean. I can’t believe I’m telling you all this,” she mumbled into his shirt.
That fucking piece of shit. He knew exactly what she meant. Rusty wanted to fuck and didn’t give a shit if Shell was wet or dry as the desert. Even the Honeys were treated better than that.
Copper wrapped one arm around her back and grabbed her hair with the other hand. A gentle tug had her looking up at him. Red blazed across her cheeks while her gaze refused to meet his. “There is nothing to be embarrassed about, Shell. There will be no secrets between us any longer. I will know you inside and out just as you will know me. Nothing that has happened to you makes me think any less of you. Amazing isn’t a strong enough word to describe you, baby, but it’s all I’ve got because I’m completely amazed by you. By your beauty.” He kissed her once, soft and sweet. “By your strength.” Another kiss. “By your loyalty.” Kiss. “By the way you raise your daughter.” Kiss. “And by your heart.”
“Copper…” Tears fell from her eyes. Eyes that shone with so much love for him. He was the luckiest fucker in the world. Completely undeserving of her devotion but selfish enough to snatch up every ounce of it and keep her all to himself.
“Tell me, baby.”
“All right. You win. I’ll tell you. Later, when you wish you didn’t know, remember I warned you.” She gave him the first small smile of the night.
“Start talking.”
Now she rolled her eyes and relief hit him. That was his Shell. “Always so bossy.”
“You’re stalling.” He tugged on her hair.
Shell bit her lower lip and emitted a small growl before she began. “Ninety percent of the time, Rusty would show up at my house while my mom was out. He’d have that smirk on his face, tell me to take my clothes off, and he’d do his thing. It was usually over in fifteen minutes tops, thank God. Then he’d leave, and I’d take the hottest shower possible and cry myself to sleep.”
Copper swallowed and steeled his features. Showing the fury burning his gut wouldn’t help Shell. She’d just feel worse. He was coming to realize she was right, he didn’t want these details, but he still fucking needed them so he’d nut up and internalize every single word. The rage would come in handy later.
“But there were times, usually whenever something good happened to you, that he was different. It’d be your birthday or a club celebration where you were getting credit for whatever happened, or you’d come down on him for something, and he’d show up all full of hatred for you. He’d rant and rave for a while then turn his attention to me. Those days, he’d whisper in my ear that he owned me. That you would never touch me because he’d been there first. And he’d touch me. Different than his norm. Like he was a man on a mission, trying to make me,” she cleared her throat, “trying to make me c-come.” The last part was said so low he almost missed it. “I faked it after the first time because he slapped me when nothing happened. So, I guess he did hurt me the one time.
