Every single one of the Harlots deep down know it and they’re watching their six, but that doesn’t mean Carver and I aren’t watching too and will pound the enemy into the ground the minute they make a move.
Onyx carrying that rifle to protect those ladies and seeing her today in that frilly dress. It’s a hard comparison and image to getout of my mind. She has nothing to worry about with me. I’m not into ice queens and she’s made it clear that she has no interest, especially after today. Not one time would she meet my eyes.
I shouldn’t want to see her tonight, shouldn’t be looking forward to seeing if she’s still dressed in that frilly little gown or heads into the club in those tight-fitting jeans that make me want to bend her over for a ride.
The minute we open the clubhouse door though, it’s sure as fuck not what we planned on walking into at all.
3
ONYX
Imay not be looking for trouble tonight, but the way my sadistic ex, the tall gangly man who used to share my bed, is looking straight at me, it’s not hard to tell that trouble just walked in that door.
Pearl puts her hand on my arm, but I shake it off, leaving her and Carver and the others to circle, cutting him off before he gets any farther into the club.
My chest pounds with unleashed anger. After what he did to me. What the fuck is he doing here? He’s not fucking staying. I’ll toss his ass right out the door he just walked through. I try to keep my cool, but it takes effort. “What are you doing here?”
Rod gives me a smile. One that used to get me right in the feels. Too bad he didn’t save that smile just for me instead of spreading it around just like he did with his dick. Cheating son of a bitch. Just like all the other males in my life. Can’t depend on one of the fucks for anything. Well, I’ve learned my lesson now.
Never giving that power away.
I give him my best glare. “I won’t ask again. What are you doing here? You’re not welcome, Rod.”
His head tilts, and he squints those bloodshot eyes at me. This time the smile he gives me is eerie, one of those really creepy ones. “I came to give Pearl a present. A little wedding gift from the Desert Riders. Heard she got hitched this afternoon.”
Now I know exactly why he’s here. Fucking loser. “So you joined the Desert Riders? Heard they were picking up some loose cannon lowlifes. Like I said, you’re not welcome here. Leave.”
Rod moves slowly, otherwise I’d pull my knife. “Got a little gift,” he says. He opens up a black leather bag and pulls out a smaller paper bag. “I’ll let you do the honors.”
My eyes narrow, but my chest tightens as I pull out the smashed silver gremlin bell that I gave to Pearl so many years ago. It’s ridden low on her bike to protect her for all of these years, a guardian to ward off the dangers of the road, and this fuck has smashed it all to pieces and is giving it to us as a warning.
This time when his lips curve, it’s actually a sneer. “The road’s getting dangerous for your girl.”
“You son of a bitch!”
He tsks his tongue at me. “Now don’t get all riled up. Pearl should have known going up against the Desert Riders was gonna get some blowback. It’s not like your prez doesn’t know the rules.”
He hands me the paper bag, almost daring me not to take it.I’ll take the fucking bag you asshole.But all I can think about is Pearl’s reaction when she sees this.
Not on her wedding day.
I pull out a picture from the bottom of the bag, of Pearl, my prez, in her wedding dress. The day she tried it on at the little boutique down the street. The Desert Riders have been following her. Not that we didn’t think they would, but maybe we thought we had a little bit more time. There just weren’t any signs.
Until now.
A smashed guardian or gremlin bell and an intimate picture letting us know they’ve been following her. There couldn’t be more intense clues.
I meet Rod’s gaze. “You and I both know that whatever that lousy recruit got, he had coming.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t have the whole story, but whatever she did pissed the crews off real bad, so you better tell her she should start checking her mirrors.”
“Fuck you, Rod. You signed up with the wrong fucking crew.”
At first, he looks solemn, but then the curve of his lips appears, smiling, both corners lifting up in an evil sneer. “You want a ride on the back of my bike or better yet on the end of my dick?” Rod asks.
It’s pure fucking adrenaline that puts my knee into the center of his crotch, and one hundred percent pissed off friend that smashes his face down onto my knee when he leans down to grab his junk.
Rod grabs my hair; the one time I leave it loose instead of in a pony and the fucker tries to snatch me bald-headed. But I’ve got my knife and I’m not scared to use it. He may think he’s got the upper hand but I’m quick to pull it from its sheath.
