Page 1 of Pearl
Chapter 1
Pearl
Iweave in and out of Phoenix traffic, pulling off the main drag and then a back alley, and around the corner before parking my sleek black custom Harley out front. The garage-looking metal shop may not be much to some, but it’s home to me and my crew. The Harlots, no matter that we’re all female, will decimate anyone who gets in the way of our mission.
The Harlots Club may look like someone’s repairing broken down vehicles inside, but maybe that’s what we like people to think. In fact, that’s exactly what it was until we got ahold of it and gutted the inside, fixing it up and making it into a clubhouse. Every single one of us putting blood, sweat and tears into turning it into what it is today. And now, it’s home to the Harlots, and if they know what’s good for them, those not invited should stay away. Because everyone inside is packing a weapon or several of our choice, and it’s not for play.
The air conditioning inside the club hits me like an icy blast after a hot desert ride in the middle of an exceptionally dry August. Onyx and Skye are sitting at the long black bar with a wood grained top. They’re both in blue jeans and tank tops and look up as I walk in. It’s far too hot to wear anything else today.I shrug out of my black leather cut and lay it on the bar stool, closing my eyes momentarily while soaking in the cool air.
Skye clicks her long blood-red fingernails over the calculator with a stack of cash by her side. I hope she’s going to give me some good damn news because the Harlots are still dealing with the loss we took last month after a job that went bad, and redemption is the only name of the game now. More jobs, more rides, and more money. That’s what we need, to fill up the bank again and get a little bit ahead.
Brandy, our fearless cleaner, gives me a nod from behind the bar. “Hey Prez, a cold drink?”
After five years with our group, she’s not only the best cleaner around but the best damn bartender in Phoenix, Arizona too. I’d put money on that. “It was a long hot ride, and a drink sounds great. It’s time to relax.”
I lay my helmet on the bar, and slide onto one of the ten black leather bar stools next to Onyx. There may not be a helmet law in Arizona, but I’ve seen plenty of friends with brain injuries after planting face first on the road. Plus, it’s a great way to put my hair up and look like a guy when I don’t want to be recognized or hit on by someone who thinks they can convince me to be a little nighttime dessert.
Brandy pulls a bottle of Jameson from the mirrored wall behind her and mixes it with a diet soda before sliding it over my way. I don’t stop drinking until there’s not a drop left in the glass. Brandy has another one all set, ready to chase the first one down before the alcohol has had time to hit my veins but I’m not the girl I used to be. I’m intentionally slowing things down just a little. A nice buzz works for me far better than a full on drunk. These days I’m never quite sure when Duchess is going to call and I’m going to need to take a little ride.
I set my empty glass down with a thud. “Tell me some good news, ladies. What’s the score this month?”
Skye taps a few more keys on her large-faced calculator and turns to me with a smile. “It’s not bad, Pearl, not fucking bad at all. We’ve actually recovered from last month’s train wreck. The two runs out to Vegas more than covered that mess, all the bills we had, and we’re up by about seven k. Plus what we’ll get from the run you just made tonight. The timing couldn’t have been better to get that job.”
Stephanie Winters, The Duchess-daughter to Leo Winters, a RBMC founding member, and sister to the current Royal Bastards MC VP, Colt Winters, fucking came through for us in a pinch. Not only did she sanction our club and bring us under the Harlot MCs, but now we’ll be protected by the RBMC as well.
That woman will have my loyalty until the day that I die. “I’ll talk to Stephanie about taking more jobs between Vegas and here. Low risk, high pay days, that’s the kinda work I like.” Lord knows we have enough risky jobs that can turn south in a minute. Running girls to give them a safe haven and getting paid bank, too. All while someone else does the risky work of rescue, that’s a win-win in my book.
If the ladies want to head north to work for Stephanie at her escort business up north instead of Vegas, or here, all the better for everyone. Keeps the Harlots here in Phoenix a little more sheltered from anyone asking too many questions because that’s a surefire way to get on the cops’ radar, especially in this neighborhood. Not that any of the shop owners are going to rat any one out. We protect them far too well for that, but you just never know if someone you trust gets infiltrated, and then you’re fucked.
My VP looks up from her drink, quiet until now. Onyx may not have the gift for gab, but she and I have had each other’s backs since the early days, running from group homes, and far too many foster homes to count. Even from the law who wanted to lock us up for stealing food so we wouldn’t starve back in theday while my brother was in the joint paying his debt to society for a crime he committed and wasn’t sorry for in the least.
There’s no one I trust more than Onyx and when she’s got something on her mind it’s written all over her face. “Before you celebrate too much, word on the street is that the Vegas fuckers we got the girls from? They want their merchandise back, and they’ve got a reward out underground for anyone with a lead,” she says.
I pull the Glock my daddy gave me a long time ago, before he was killed by a rival gang. About the same time my path crossed with Stephanie, and I met Onyx. Just holding the deadly weapon in my hand gives me strength, just like the knives I carry. They have to protect not only myself and the ladies but anyone else we run across who needs our help. We have each other’s backs no matter what and saving other women is in our blood, right along with the green that comes with it. Reward or not, no one is going to find the ladies we’re paid to protect when I’m in charge.
Onyx runs a finger around her beer glass. “The women downstairs were beaten, raped and bloody when they got snuck out of that hellhole the fuckers were keeping them in. If the bastards who took them step foot anywhere close to these walls, or near those women I will put them in the fucking ground without question or remorse. Fucking traffickers, they’re not slowing down, it’s just getting worse.”
A sudden sound causes us all to turn. My VP’s eyes go wide and every one of us turn at the very same time
The door that looks like a piece of the club wall creaks as it moves. The door leading from the secret passage that was custom created by my brother for the sole intent and purpose of hiding women who need safe haven for a short time begins to open. The place he built gives us a place to stash women in trouble and time for the hunt to subside, until we can get them moved to safety and far from danger.
Yet every one of the Phoenix Harlots has a finger on our triggers. Because no matter what, we stay alive and out of jail by trusting absolutely fucking no one. Even the girls we save from trash who kidnap and traffic women. We can’t even trust them. There’s always someone trying to infiltrate the club and take out the opposition whether it be by using women, drugs or guns. No one is to be trusted until they fucking prove their loyalty, and we don’t know these women from Adam, at least not yet. And if I have my way, we won’t. We’ll keep them safe long enough to get them transported and wash our hands of anything further. That’s the job, nothing fucking else.
“You’re supposed to stay downstairs, out of sight.” My voice seems to give the three women in various stages of dress courage instead of discouragement. Doing the opposite of what I intended. I don my stern face. Never let them see the softer side, never. If they see it, they have a way in to take advantage when you’re least expecting it. I’ve seen it time and time again and it’s not going to work with me.
The ladies who were just recently rescued from a fate worse than death walk purposely into the main floor. Sauntering toward us as though I’ve invited them into the main lounge of the club and not explicitly told them to stay downstairs and hidden.
My jaw tightens with the unnecessary aggravation after a day like today. It’s not safe for them to be seen right now, but clearly, whatever they want is important enough to bring them upstairs, or at least that’s what they want us to think. And not one of them is dissuaded at all by the guns in our hands.
We may be one percenters, supposedly on the wrong side of the law, but we’re the ones who brought them to safety, and they should trust us, even if we don’t fucking trust them, or anyone unless we grew up together or they fucking prove themselves.
Some of the women may have places to go after being rescued, to a family member or just cities where they wish to disappear to, but some, they’ve never even had a home, a job, family or anything. Those are the ones who need a family the most. The women that sometimes want to join us at the Harlots, or leave Phoenix for good and head somewhere completely different to get a fresh start. We see all types, but with this group of ladies, time will tell.
Lucky for them, Duchess, the president of the National Chapter of the Harlots MC, has an escort service that makes a great place to work and hide from the unsavory characters they’ve dealt with in their past. Everyone has a sad and often brutal story. I’m all about giving them a comforting ear to listen to, but I’m a cautious fucker too.
We have cash spread out all over the bar top and the ladies decide that they need to talk? Sometimes these women have another side, and me and my ladies aren’t about to get robbed by women we’re trying to help. We’ve seen that tried more than a few times since we started taking these jobs.
The three lovelies look at us with surprised doe-like eyes, but that innocent look can be deceiving as fuck. My ladies and I are going to hold our ground until we know exactly why, after we gave them explicit instructions to stay underground, with any and all provisions they might need, they felt compelled to come upstairs anyway.
