And I want to know every piece of dirt there is to dig up on that bastard because no one puts hands on one of ours. Shine doesn’t take shit from anyone, boyfriend or not. There has to be something I’m missing, and I’m sure as hell not asking her. She’s already giving me the silent treatment from hell.
At least not yet.
Shine had a chance to talk about it that day, but she’s barely said a word to me since I saw that bruise. No, all I need is a little more information to find out what his game is and then that asshole is going to pay, whether Shine likes it or not.
She may not like me stepping into her personal business, but no one puts hands on one of ours and there’s something about that guy that even without the violence has always gotten under my skin in a very bad way.
A few of us ladies wrestle the cake from the box, and onto the big silver platter. Shine goes to town filling the edges around it with flowers and bike memorabilia and puts it on the end of the bar, so that everyone can see it as they pass by. She may be the most ruthless of sergeant at Arms but she can decorate a hell of a cake, especially when she’s clearly got something on her mind.
Pearl and Carver come down the stairs already changed out of their fancies and into the clothes they normally wear, but Pearl looks different. Her face is softer, her eyes are shining and it’s a great fucking look on my friend. They walk over and Carver’s hand doesn’t leave the small of Pearl’s back as she pushes into one of the bar stools next to me in a pair of tight jeans and her signature T.
Brandy heads down our way. The official bartender for the night and if everyone had their way always because she’s damn good at it. She may be our cleaner, but the bar, it’s like her baby. Nothing happens behind that bar unless she knows about it. “What are you two drinking tonight?” she asks.
“It’s going to be a tequila night for me,” Pearl says with mischief in her eye. Good lord, it’s going to be one of those parties. Well, hopefully she’s lucky enough to have found the one, and only gets married once.
“Tequila for me, too,” I say in solidarity with my sister.
Pearl gives me a knowing smile.
Carver grins. “Looks like it’s going to be a fun night. Cold beer for me,” he tells Brandy.
Skye walks downstairs, heads over to us, and gives Pearl a pat on the back. “Never thought I’d see the day when our prez was married. It was a beautiful ceremony.”
Pearl turns and gives her a smile, something that we’re all still getting used to seeing on Pearl because it wasn’t so many months ago that those smiles were very few and far between. Too much pressure to keep the club running, trying to ensure we had multiple avenues of revenue coming in and could pay all the debts that come with the overhead on this place we call a home and the sanctuary for the girls who need a place to land after they find trouble.
Not that it doesn’t all still exist but there’s a definite difference. We’re getting back on our feet now with routine rides to safeguard women who need our help. Things are falling into place in that area.
It’s Pearl’s passion and giving trafficked women who have been rescued, no matter if it’s the Larussios who save them in Vegas, or one of their MC crews, we take them in, give them a safe life until we can safely transport them north.
A safe haven for those women has become all of our mission.
“Whatcha drinking, Skye?” Brandy asks.
Skye looks at our glasses and smiles. “Looks like Tequila all way around. I could use a night to just cut loose and party like we used to. Forget about the numbers and just enjoy. It’s been a minute, right ladies?”
I grin, tipping my glass with all of the Harlots.
Fuckin’ A this party is bound to get out of hand tonight, and I’m down for it. It’s not every day that one of us gets married, especially the prez and my closest friend in the world. More than a friend, a sister that I always wanted, and can share everything with, even the bad shit, without being judged.
When Pearl said she wanted to celebrate in the club like old times, every single one of us was here to put on a good spread and make it happen, and if it goes anything like it used to, we’ll be here still drinking until well into the early morning hours.
Brandy pours us each another round as the bar starts to fill up with the rest of the Harlots and well-wishers from the Phoenix Chapter of the Royal Bastards. Tonight no one’s looking for trouble, they’re all looking to cut loose, and to wish the newlyweds a show of congratulations.
I’m enjoying my drink, listening to the jukebox song that’s one of my favs. Pearl shoves her elbow into my ribs though, pulling my attention to her. “Door. What is he doing here?”
My jaw tightens as I take in the scumbag that is my ex. “I don’t have a clue,” but somehow, I already know that trouble of the worst kind just walked through that door.
2
HAWG
Iwait for the crew who are still packing up their shit for a night over at the Harlots Club. A group the Royal Bastards are obliged to protect because of our connection with Duchess, Stephanie Winters the Royal Harlots of New York, the National Chapter, sister to Jameson, founder of the Royal Bastards.
And with the recent decision of our group to patch over to the Royal Bastards, Phoenix Chapter our loyalty has expanded to not only our small little crew but to our brothers all over the country. We ride with the Royal Bastard colors and share their mission. A fucking privilege not everyone gets offered and we don’t take that shit lightly.
Times are changing in this area though. When the mafia bosses want the roads between Phoenix and Tucson cleared of the fucking Desert Riders and Scorpions who’ve been trying to hedge in with a vengeance and are scooping up the smaller clubs like ours, it makes a whole lot of fucking sense.
All of us would far rather be taking bank from the Larussios in Vegas as we make runs than any other family in the southwest.
