She quickly became Ruby, who stitched up bullet wounds for the Harlots and Bastards. Ruby, who patched the brothers when bar fights got messy. Ruby, who rode a black Sportster and didn’t take shit from anyone. She liked that Ruby, but at the hospital, she couldn’t be that badass. She had to play by the rules, even if she didn’t agree with all of them. And yet the truth followed her like a shadow—sometimes soft and sometimes suffocating.
She had been taking shifts left and right, trying to make some extra cash, hoping that she could take some time off from the club, but she could still feel the heat of the spotlight on her skin. It was permanently burned into her, whether she liked it or not. Dancing at that sleezy club had become a part of her—like it or not.
“First day as a real doctor,” she muttered as she unlocked her locker. “Try not to screw it up.” Ruby quickly looked aroundto make sure that no one else saw her talking to herself. She got changed into her scrubs, pinned on her name badge, and checked herself in the tiny mirror that she kept hung in her locker. Ruby sighed and shut the door, not bothering to fret over the wrinkles she found around her eyes or how tired she looked. No, that would be a problem for another day. Right now, she had to get ready for her rounds before the next shift took over. Inside the hospital, everything smelled like disinfectant and new beginnings, and she was counting on that.
The clinic director left a welcome basket on her desk—granola bars, instant coffee, and sticky notes shaped like hearts that made her smile to herself. It was stuff that almost made her forget that she was the girl who had to wipe sweat from a chrome pole and count bruises on her body as though they were tips. She couldn’t wait for the day that she’d be able to tell herself that she was done at that place—but today wasn’t that day.
The others in residency would joke sometimes about strippers paying their way through college. They’d always show up in the ER with broken bones and lacerations that they’d explain away. She was lucky that none of the girls from down at the club ever recognized her, and why would they? Her doctor’s persona looked nothing like the stripper who was their friend down at the club. She wore a wig when she danced, trying to disguise herself as best as she could. But a part of her always worried that she’d be found out, and that had her holding her breath every time one of the girls was brought into the emergency room to be patched up. She learned to just keep her head down and work while the other residents joked about the strippers. The joke was on her. The punchline had legs and bruised knees and a fake name—Scarlet.
Scarlet was her stage name. She thought that it was a clever play on her real name, but worried that it might be too close for comfort. She tried to leave Scarlet behind every night whenshe left the stage, but she wasn’t sure if she’d ever be able to completely leave her in the past, no matter how hard she worked as a doctor.
“Morning, Doc.” A familiar raspy voice drifted in—Banshee, president of the Royal Harlots. “Thought I’d stop by to wish you well on your first day and all.” Banshee had made her one of her pet projects. No one knew about her second job except for her club’s Prez. But then again, Banshee seemed to make every Royal Harlot’s business her business. When she found out about Ruby dancing to pay her student loans, she offered to help her out, but there was no way that she’d allow that. Taking handouts wasn’t her thing, and there was no way that she’d want to owe Banshee any more than she already did. But she promised Ruby that she’d keep her secret, and that worked for her. If Banshee made you a promise, you could trust that she’d keep it.
The normal part of Ruby’s life wavered as the MC part settled in like armor. Ruby smirked. “You think I’m going to get lost or something?” Ruby asked, keeping her voice low. Banshee walked with her to the center reception area of the emergency room. “Or did you really come here to wish me well?”
Banshee shrugged. “I just wanna make sure no one gives our girl any shit. That white coat might make some folks forget whose family you belong to.” There wasn’t a chance of that happening. Sure, while she was at work, she looked the part of a doctor, but she kept little pieces of herself, like her boots and her tats, as reminders that she was a Harlot through and through. They were her family, and she knew from experience that loyalty was thicker than blood.
Banshee looked around the ER and knew that a storm was brewing. Right now, it was too quiet, and that usually meant trouble was coming. “I wanted to send flowers,” Banshee said casually.
Ruby laughed. “Please don’t. I’m trying to look professional.”
Banshee winked. “Honey, being a doctor’s the most professional thing any of us Harlots have ever been.” She knew that a lot of the Harlots were the Royal Bastard’s Ol’ladies. She didn’t know many who held professional jobs. Banshee had even told her that a few of the women had been strippers, dancers, and even escorts to get by, but she was pretty sure that she was telling her that stuff to make her feel better about her situation.
They walked the hallway together as nurses smiled at them, and staff nodded politely. Ruby felt herself splitting in two—Doctor Ruby, and everything else that she hid beneath the surface under her white lab coat. Everything she’d been to just get by was bursting at the seams to get free, but she’d never allow that to happen because she had to consider everything she still might be someday. That woman deserved a chance to shine, and there was no way that would happen if Ruby let all her ugly secrets out.
Suddenly, Banshee stopped her just before the exam rooms. Her voice lowered. “Listen. You don’t owe this world an explanation for how you survived. You hear me? You wanted better, and you earned it.”
Ruby swallowed hard. “Thank you for saying that. I just feel like it might never go away. I might never be able to stop, and then what?”
Banshee’s expression softened. “Secrets don’t disappear, Ruby. But they can stop owning you. Just remember that and try not to feel so bad about your past decisions.” It wasn’t just her past ones that bothered Ruby. It was the future ones that really got to her—the ones where she’d have to put back on her wig and costume and walk back into that club to dance to pay her bills.
But Banshee’s words hit like a heartbeat—strong and steady. Ruby nodded and stood a little straighter. Banshee squeezed her shoulder and whispered, “You got this,” and walked away, and all Ruby could do was watch her disappear through the doubledoors. Was Banshee right? Did she have this, or was her new life all an illusion?
The white coat still felt foreign on her body, but maybe, just maybe, she could get used to it. She was feeling pretty confident until a soft knock on the door interrupted the moment.
She turned to find a young woman holding her arm, blood seeping between her fingers. “Are you the new doctor?”
Ruby blinked once as the doctor mode took over. “Yes, I am. Let’s get you onto a gurney.” For the first time that morning, she didn’t think about the past. She didn’t think about stages, secrets, or spotlights. She thought about the wound. She thought about healing the young woman sitting in front of her. And as she cleaned the girl’s cut, she realized—maybe that’s what today was about. It was the beginning of something new, not an erasure of her past. It was a transformation. She was becoming Dr. Ruby Monroe. And if she were successful, there would be no more hiding in the shadows. All that would be left was just a beginning—and that was exactly what she needed.
Savage Hellalways smelled like whiskey, sweat, and danger—the kind of danger that didn’t come with warning sirens and medical charts. It was the kind that had a pulse—almost as though the place was alive. That was the part of the club that she loved the most—the living, breathing part that made her feel as though she belonged to something.
Ruby parked her bike between Banshee’s custom Dyna and a blacked-out Road King with a serpent painted across the tank. She was in Royal Harlots' territory now and was safe, sure—but safe didn’t always keep secrets.
Inside, the bar was humming. Neon lights glinted off the long chrome counter, and music hummed low through the walls. The Harlots were gathered around their usual booth—Rebel, Banshee, Sprite, Danger, and even a few prospects. They were her family, and she couldn’t help but smile to herself as she rounded the corner to join them.
“Look who’s officially off the clock,” Banshee called, raising her glass with a wicked grin. “Doctor Ruby’s in the house!” The table erupted with cheers. Ruby tried to smile and tried to feel normal, but she hated having any attention drawn to herself. Tonight was supposed to be a celebration for her first day as a doctor, but all she could think about was going home, taking a long, hot shower, and falling to sleep.
She slid into the booth next to Rebel, who nudged her with a teasing elbow. “Bet those patients today had no idea they were being treated by MC royalty.”
“Let’s hope not,” Ruby said quietly. She wasn’t ashamed of being a Harlot, but she didn’t advertise the fact that she was part of a local MC. A fresh round of drinks arrived, courtesy of the bar, but not from the bartender. The waitress said that they were from a biker at the counter. He was lean with shaggy blond hair, and Ruby wondered if she knew him. Tattoos crawled up his throat like ivy as he raised his glass to her with a smirk she’d seen before. Everything clicked into place, and she realized that she knew him from somewhere she never wanted to be recognized from—the strip club.
Rebel leaned over to her and whispered. “That’s Ant. He’s a new transfer who just came up from the Dallas chapter of the Royal Bastards. He’s been helping round up some gun runners through the backroads down here in Huntsville in his spare time.”
Ruby knew that name. She had heard whispers about him. He was a nomad with sharp eyes. The type who memorized every face he saw. “What’s he do otherwise?” she asked.
“He was a Texas Ranger, but he’s joining Bolt at the FBI and giving him a hand while Jace and Winter figure out their next move,” Rebel said.
“He looks interested in you, Ruby,” Banshee teased from across the table. “Want an introduction?”
