Page 9 of Pearl
He doesn’t say a word, not that I expected him to cut his own throat. “Move, take me there, or I cut your throat and you lose your tongue slowly.”
His feet move quickly as piss runs down the leg of his pants and onto the floor. We walk back through the door he camethrough. A large worn tapestry rug lays on the floor. He taps it with the sole of his dirty worn shoes.
I bang on it with the heel of my boot. “Anyone down there?” I yell, hearing voices that confirm exactly what I thought. There’s more than one woman being held against her will down there, men are coming for me, and this fucking loser seals his fate when he sends an elbow into my gut and pulls a gun from his pocket.
My knife goes through his throat, fast and clean. Without remorse or guilt of any kind, as the gun meant to end my life drops to the floor.
He grabs his throat. I push him away from me as he falls, blood spurts from the slice in his neck, and he starts bleeding out onto the floor. Maybe I should care more, but I fucking don’t.
Not when I’m pulling open a trap door that hides innocent women. I push away the rug, lift the heavy wooden makeshift plank and push it over onto the floor. I climb down the steps slowly, using the light of my phone to guide my way, only to find a bunch of ladies huddled together and staring up at me with wide scared eyes.
Ten in all. Fuck, fuck fuck. I can’t get them all on my bike. “Come with me now. We need to hurry.” Not one of them needs to be told twice. They’re all right on my heels. “One of you Angel’s sister?” I ask, walking up the stairs in front of them to make sure we don’t run into trouble.
“I’m here,” a small voice says from behind me.
“Then let’s move.” I’ve got more than I came for but I’m not leaving the others behind. “Anyone know the area? Anyone—someone who could hide you out and keep you safe for just a short while, while I get more help? There’s trouble coming down the road and it’s coming real fast.”
A woman a little older than the other girls speaks up. “The Rose Tattoo is the bar about a mile out of Vegas. Millie is thebarkeeper there. She will help, she’s my sister-in-law. Tell her I’m with them and she’ll help you. My name is Sarah.”
I scan the distance and glance at my watch. We don’t have long. “Grab those branches right there, and then follow me.” I walk my bike through the sage brush, weaving in and out of the scattered cactus, Joshua trees, and tumbleweeds that are old and dusty as hell but at least may help to provide a little cover from a distance. The ladies wipe our tracks, just the way I told them, and we make good time. Not one of them wants to dally and get caught again, not after they just got free. But that man said twenty minutes, so we don’t have much for time.
The minute we reach Millie’s bar, I put my bike around back, and have the girls stay with it. “Don’t move from this wall. You’re protected from sight here, and I need to find a safe place to stash you for a little bit.”
I walk in and the woman behind the bar looks to be in her late sixties, with a cigarette hanging from her mouth and an ashtray full of butts. She looks surprised as hell. “Millie, I have Sarah with me. She and some others were kidnapped and were being held by some assholes down the road. I need a place to stash the girls until I can get help. Sarah said you could help? She’s right outside with the others.”
She puts her cigarette out and then proceeds to light another. “It’s that fucking slimebag down the road, isn’t it?”
Millie doesn’t give me a chance to answer her question. “You bet your ass I’ve got a place. Bring ‘em in the back door. I’ll let you in,” she says, heading toward the back while I go outside to get the girls and enter when she opens the door.
She takes us through the kitchen and to a pantry, then pulls back another door that looks like a shelving system. “What the hell,” I ask under my breath, “does every bar around Vegas have a secret room?”
Millie winks at me. “Mobsters aren’t the only ones who need a safe place to hole up for a while. You’d be surprised how many bars and clubs have a safe haven for people running from the law.”
I could give two fucks who the space was made for as long as it works to keep these ladies out of sight. “I appreciate you taking them in for a little while. I just need a safe place for them until I can return.”
“What about you?” she says.
“I’m female. Male assholes are never going to suspect that I sprang the girls on my own. You keep the ladies here. I’m going to head out and get some help. Are you going to be okay? You need to hide with them, just in case they come here looking?”
Millie laughs. “That’s not going to be a problem, and I don’t fucking hide.”
The minute the ladies are safely out of sight I head out, jump on my bike, and get as far down the road as fast as I can go. I could go to the police, but chances are with an operation like this, someone is bound to catch wind of it on the radio or have an inside person or family member who will say something to the wrong person and then the fuckers will find the girls.
Or I can get to somewhere farther and call Duchess for help. I opt for the latter and twist the throttle, but the thunderous roar of bikes behind me tells me I’m no longer fucking alone. And the plan I had just took a drastic fucking turn.
Chapter 8
Carver
In the distance, finally I see her coming around the curve. A vision of hell-bent beauty, the helmet she wears not covering the strands of golden hair flying beneath it in the breeze. She straddles the powerful ride and leans into the turn. I could watch her all day, but something’s sure as shit not right. She should have another rider on the back of that bike by now, but she doesn’t and Pearl’s riding like a bat out of hell. Instinct alone tells me she’s running from something or someone but from this position I can’t see anyone on her tail.
I accelerate, heading down the hill and around the corner to come out at the bottom of the highway just in front of but still above her. The roar of thunder from close by tells me what I instinctively already knew, but it’s not one solo rider. It’s a whole fucking biker crew, of Desert Riders.
And of course she’s not the type to give up. Pearl knows she’s alone and can’t outrun them all, so speeds up and takes refuge behind a tall, wide red rock that hides her completely. The bikers appear, engines in the highest gear but the straight stretch of road is going to be her demise, because looking downthat stretch it’s easy for them to see she’s no longer ahead and has turned off somewhere. They just don’t know where.
The leader slows his bike, circling his hand, a silent order for his men to spread out but from my vantage point above, I have the distinct advantage. I get off my bike, putting the kickstand in place and grab my already loaded rifle. My belly hits the pavement using a small flat rock to aim, once, twice, three times, and then again for four men dead.
The other two scramble, trying to figure out where the fire is coming from, zigging and zagging to stay out of harm’s way, but I’m already moving, back on my bike, kicking it into gear. I’ll find them down below before they get to Pearl, because if they want to get to her, they’re going to have to go through me.
