Copper (2 page)

Copper saw his way out of the awkward conversation and honed in on it.  “Speaking of our lovely assistant, Marla left in such a hurry she bypassed her sister.  And Natalie’s so busy flirting with the newest owner of one of our custom bikes she’s probably oblivious to Marla’s departure.  I’m going to make sure she has a ride home.”

“Chicken,” Steel taunted.

“Bull shit!”  Copper snapped at his brother.  “Peterson is getting a little grabby. If Chrome tears himself away from the sexy brunette wrapped around him long enough to see what’s going on, he might blow his top.  I’m not in the mood to be breaking up any fights tonight.”

“You and Chrome are on a sinking ship. I wonder who’s going to seek dry land first.”

Copper ignored his brother’s laughter and walked away.  He reached Natalie’s side and delicately extracted her from the sticky situation with enough tact not to upset their latest customer.  “Peterson,” he said with a nod.  “I need to borrow my assistant for a while.  Why don’t you grab a beer?” He yanked his thumb to the right.  “That group of women over there looks lonely.  I’m sure they’d appreciate your company.”

The man good-naturedly grumbled, but he left without making too much of a fuss.  “Natalie, I’ll see you next time I’m out this way,” he said before strolling off.  He looked back at her with a smug grin on his face. 

“Whew!” Natalie wiped her forehead with a hand as soon as the man was several feet away from her. “Thanks for the save, boss. He always flirted with me when he came to check on the progress of his bike, and things started out well, but darn if that man doesn’t have more arms than an octopus.”  She shuddered.  “To think I used to like octopuses, he may have ruined that animal for me forever.”

“No problem. I’ve got an ulterior motive, because I need to talk to you.  Marla took off about fifteen minutes ago.  I wanted to make sure you knew she was gone and find out if you needed a ride home.”

“I’m good, thanks, Copper.  Marla always insists on driving her own car, because she usually leaves your get-togethers before things get good.  I make her come with me, because I think it would do her a world of good to let loose.”  She shook her head.  “You know that old saying, you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make it drink.  My sister is twenty-six going on fifty,” she said in exasperation.

“So I’ve noticed,” Copper said with a snort. “Your sister’s not like other women,” he insisted.

Natalie looked at him through narrowed eyes. “No, she’s not.  Remember that, Copper.  I think I’ll call it a night too.  I don’t feel like fighting off Peterson anymore, and Marla might want to talk.  She only has one week of work left before the school year is officially over.  She doesn’t sleep much this time of year. See you Monday morning!”

TWO

Marla didn’t plan on being the last person out of the building, but she didn’t want to have to come back on Monday.  Determined to get everything done, she stayed until all her tasks were finished.  Report cards were filled out, her room was neat and clean, and all her supplies and personal belongings were packed up until the start of the next school year.  Saying goodbye to her beloved students and closing a chapter of her life was sad, but Marla was ready for a much needed break and a relaxing summer vacation.

Maybe she should have been a little more observant and a lot less ambitious.  It was after nine o’clock, and the sun sank below the horizon several minutes ago.  The school was well-lighted, but the area near her car was deserted.  She tightened the hold on the cardboard box she was carrying and walked faster. 

A hot southern wind blew across the school’s parking lot.  A few stray pieces of litter skidded across the pavement.  The fast-moving paper occasionally scraped across the hard surface, sounding like fingernails on a chalkboard.  Despite the smothering humidity, Marla felt chilled.  She worked hard to stifle a shiver. 

A loud popping sound startled her. She dropped the box, and an instinctive shriek left her mouth. She went down after the box. Another pop sounded. This time she was pretty sure a bullet whizzed by her head.  Marla forgot about the box and scrambled toward her car.  It was only three feet away, but it might has well have been three miles. 

She could feel the grit and loose pebbles digging into her knees and palms as she frantically tried to get to the relative safety of her car.  Marla finally reached out to touch the door of her compact car.  She pulled on the door handle two more times and swallowed a scream of frustration. Of course it was locked, and she couldn’t get it open. 

Luckily her purse was across her shoulder and not inside the abandoned box several feet behind her.  She fumbled around for the plastic rectangle. As soon as her fingers closed around it, she clicked the remote.   The snick of the lock was music to her ears. She yanked open the door and dived inside.  Another loud pop urged her to move even faster. She slammed the door shut and hit the lock button. 

A burning sensation seared her left side.  Marla wanted to see how bad the wound was, but she couldn’t take the time.  She was isolated. She needed help.  Even if she called 911, she couldn’t wait around, hoping the police arrived before it was too late.  She needed to get out of there immediately.

She managed to fit the key inside the ignition and start the car. A loud pinging noise told her she was still being shot at. Marla shoved the gears into drive and slammed her foot down on the accelerator. Rubber peeled against asphalt. The vehicle shot forward.  She hunched down over the wheel as low as she could. 

Marla drove out of the parking lot and onto the main road without slowing down.  She took the turn a little too sharp and ended up on the other side of the road.  Luckily, there were no other vehicles on the highway, so she kept going. She took one hand off of the wheel long enough to grab her phone. She hit the button for speed dial number one and waited.

“Hello,” her sister answered on the third ring.

“Natalie, Natalie! I think I’ve been shot!”

“What!  Marla, is that you?  Did you say shot, as in a gun and bullet? Where are you?”  Her sister asked in a desperate voice.

“I’m hightailing it away from the school right now,” she sobbed.  “My side hurts, it stings badly.  I can’t stop to check the damage, because I don’t know if I’m being followed!” Marla hysterically screamed into the phone.  “I didn’t even have time to call the police.  Not that I’d want to anyway,” she mumbled.

“We’ll worry about that later.  Don’t come home,” Natalie instructed her sister.  “Go to the Metal Cowboys’ place. They can protect you better than the police, and they aren’t that far from the school.”

Marla shivered and concentrated on trying to keep her car between the yellow and white lines painted on the road.  “Those bikers scare me, Natalie.”  She remembered her encounter with Copper Ellison just a few nights ago.  She shivered from the memories.  He’d scared her enough to send her running into the night.

“They scare most people, that’s why you need to go to them.  Plus their place is closer than the apartment. That means less driving and less chance of whoever’s trying to hurt you getting their hands on you.  There’s a security gate, and if you are far enough ahead of whoever is chasing you, they won’t be able to get in,” Natalie promised. 

“I think I can make it home,” Marla tried to argue. She should have known that wouldn’t go over too well, her sister was bossy.  It was a deep-seated personality trait Natalie developed after their parents died in the car accident.

“Just do it!” Natalie shouted into the phone. She gave her sister the four-digit code for the security gate and made her repeat it three times.  “You don’t want me to call the Metal Cowboys and ask them to track your butt down, do you?”

Marla decided she didn’t have much of a choice.  Staying alive was her top priority.  Safety outweighed comfort. Besides, she might already have a killer on her tail.  She didn’t need to add a group of angry bikers to the tally.  She knew when to give in gracefully. Now was one of those times.

She could feel blood seeping onto her clothes, and she was already feeling lightheaded.  Marla hoped she didn’t pass out behind the wheel of the car.  She didn’t need a car accident on top of everything else.  She didn’t want to be out in the open like a sitting duck for whoever was trying to hurt her either.

“I love you, Natalie. See you soon, I hope.  I don’t want to hang up, but I need both hands on the wheel for the mad dash I’m about to do!  I’ve got to go.”

“Love you too. I’m on my way out the door. Stay strong and be safe, sis.  I’ll see you at the Metal Cowboys’ house.”

Marla gripped the steering wheel as hard as she could.  Her eyes followed the path her headlights cut through the murky darkness of the night.  Thank goodness, she didn’t see any other vehicles on the road.  She wouldn’t be able to tell who was friend or foe, avoiding everyone except for the Metal Cowboys and her sister was the safest bet. 

She approached most things in life with a cautious attitude.  No one who knew her would accuse her of having a lead foot.  She characteristically drove right at the speed limit, maybe five miles over if she was in a hurry but never faster than that.  Tonight her speedometer was stuck on seventy-five, and she wasn’t slowing down.  She would go faster if she thought it might help, but flipping her car into a ditch because of a sharp curve wouldn’t do anything to improve the situation she found herself facing. 

After several harrowing minutes without spotting anything in her rearview mirror, the turnoff to the long drive that led to the Metal Cowboys’ headquarters came into view.  Glancing in the rearview mirror one more time, Marla was relieved by the darkness that met her eyes.  No headlights, so if someone was chasing her, the pursuer hadn’t gained any ground.  She could breathe just a little bit easier.  She took her foot off of the accelerator long enough to safely make the turn.

Now that she was surrounded by Metal Cowboys’ property, Marla felt a little calmer and a whole lot safer.  She focused a little less on her driving and more on her wound.  She was surprised that her side didn’t seem to hurt as much as it did when she was first shot.  The biting pain in her side dulled to a steady ache during the ride.  It seemed that the rest of her body along with her mind was numb. 

Marla drove down the long gravel lane as fast as she dared.  She came to an abrupt stop right in front of the large metal gate.  She typed in the numbers and held her breath until the gate started to open.  She breathed a sigh of relief and drove onto the other side.  There was still no sign of a pursuer.  Marla was pretty sure her chances of surviving the night dramatically increased with the closing of that gate. 

She drove down the drive until the huge antebellum mansion where Copper and a few of his biker brothers lived came into view.  Her relief at making it to the safe haven was short-lived. The house was totally dark. So was the large metal building behind it that was used as a garage and workspace.

Marla drove past the house and slammed on the brakes when she was parallel to the front door of the garage.  The further from the road she was the safer she would be.  Just because someone else might have a hard time making it onto the property, didn’t mean she should advertise her whereabouts.  Marla was pretty sure the property was vacant, so if whoever was after her stormed the gate, she was as good as dead. 

She wasn’t sure if her legs would work or not, so waiting in the car seemed like the best and only option. She wrapped her arms around her body and leaned her head against the steering wheel. Natalie would be there soon. Everything would be okay once her sister arrived.   Suddenly exhausted, Marla closed her eyes and waited. 

****

Christopher Ellison, known as Copper to most people, was always watchful.  His eyes darted from side to side taking in everything around him.  The dusty Texas back road was deserted.  He motioned to the men behind him. Copper opened the throttle on his custom Metal Cowboy Thoroughbred, confident the others would keep up with him. 

His twin brothers, Steel and Mercury, were riding behind him. Chrome brought up the rear. He was Copper’s brother-in-arms instead of blood, but a brother all the same. The other three men were used to his subtle cues and changing moods.  And Copper, the oldest at thirty-five, was used to leading. 

The night was pitch black, but he felt at home in the darkness.  He would draw it around him like a familiar and comfortable cloak if he could.  The air was heavy and humid, typical of a hot summer night in Texas.  Copper breathed deep anyway.  The musky smell of freshly toiled soil assailed his nose.  Texas was home, and he loved it. 

He and his brothers grew up on a ranch about four hours north of where they now resided.   Much to his parents’ disappointment, during their adolescence, Copper and his brothers were more comfortable on a motorcycle than the back of a horse.  Their love for bikes stuck with them into adulthood, and the name Metal Cowboys was born. 

He slowed to make a sharp right turn onto their vast acreage.  The road narrowed into a private lane that led to a large metal gate with a keypad entry system.  He stopped the bike just long enough to type in the four-digit code. The gate swung open. He throttled his bike and shot off down the drive.  Their home and the garage and workspace were on the other side of the gate.  The property and Metal Cowboy business was jointly owned by Copper, Steel, Mercury, Chrome, and Iron. 

A tremendous sense of pride and accomplishment overcame him every time he thought of the custom bike design and repair business they started just four years ago.  Their bikes were in high demand, so popular there was a backlog of orders that the men relentlessly worked to fill.  Eventually they would need to bring in more partners to expand the business.

The majestic and roomy antebellum mansion that housed him and the rest of the Metal Cowboys came into view.  Out of habit, his eyes darted to the large metal building that served as headquarters and workspace for their business.  A metal object glinted in the concentrated light of his bike’s headlight. One of the five original founding members of the Metal Cowboys was always the last to leave and secure the garage.  It was locked up tight and protected by a state of the art security system, but Copper didn’t want anyone nosing around the building, especially after hours.