Page 8 of Pearl
My jaw locks tightly. If you ask me, they should be going after Pearl first, but they didn’t ask, and I’m in no mood to cross a fucking Phoenix Crew or Royal Bastard not knowing the full situation. And it may take longer than I fucking like to get theinformation we need. “I’ll be here, but hurry. You get back and I’ll go after her. I can make that ride faster than anyone around. You fucking know it.”
Hawg looks thoughtful and then nods. “That you can, Carver. You tear up those canyons like nobody’s business. This won’t take long. One bat, two bats, three bats, done. Then we’ll be back.”
The minute they walk out the door, I head downstairs, rapping on the door to give the ladies fair warning that I’m coming in but I’m not giving them much time, because I need answers and want them now. The dark-haired chick with an unusually smooth and glistening complexion looks at me with wide eyes as I burst through the door. “Where’s Pearl?”
Onyx raises her eyebrows but doesn’t say a word. The arrogance in her bright green eyes tells me she’s not used to being questioned, told what to do or anything of the sort, but I’m already out of patience and it’s not even six a.m. “I’m not asking you again so nice. Where the fuck did she go?” But in the back of my mind, I already know. She’s gone after Angel’s sister. I should have known she would. That same fucking attitude, she too is used to doing exactly what she wants, when she wants, and something in the sound of her voice when she was talking with Hawg yesterday should have clued me into the fact that she wasn’t going to leave that girl to fend for herself.
Fuck, I should have known better.
Onyx starts to say something, but I cut her off. I’ve already figured it out and she’s no damn narc if she’s second in command to Pearl. Something tells me Pearl would demand far more loyalty than that. “What time did she leave?”
Onyx shrugs. “What time do you want me to tell you she left?”
Fucking smart ass. “I’m on your side. I’m going after her to bring her back.”
She shrugs. “You can try, but Pearl doesn’t need a man to jump in and play hero. She’ll make that ride, bring Angel’s sister back, and do it all on her own steam.”
And I should let her, but I already know that isn’t going to happen, because something about that blonde baby with a body made for sin, and an attitude to boot, has me fucking captivated whether I want to admit it or not.
No one gets the drop on me, much less pulls the wool over my eyes, and yet that’s exactly what she did whether she planned to or not. When I find that babe, I’m going to show her who her daddy is, that’s for damn sure. Because without meaning to, Onyx just confirmed exactly what I thought. Pearl is heading into trouble all alone, and the thought of that causes me to be harsher with Onyx than I intend to be. “Fucking tell me what I want to know, or I swear to god I’ll put you on that saddle and make you take me to her at gunpoint.”
By the time I’ve finished with Onyx, giving the others the third degree, and getting the information I need, the roar of the Phoenix Crew can be heard, their bikes rumbling the walls of the club around us. I race upstairs to make sure it’s them returning and not some other rival gang, or worse, someone looking for the ladies we’ve managed to keep hidden until now.
Hawg walks in just as I get upstairs. At least something’s going our way today.
I gesture toward the lower level. “The ladies are downstairs. I’m going after Pearl. It sounds like she took off right after dawn and probably has a good couple hours on me already.” Let’s hope she’s not as fast as her VP says she is. I glance at the barkeep who’s mixing up some orange juice and vodka concoction. “I know you’ve got a shotgun back there. I’m going to need to borrow it and a shit ton of lead.”
His eyebrow arches, looking at his prez. Hawg nods his head. “Give it to him. Pearl is under our protection and Carver’s riding for us.”
The barkeep tosses it in the air, and I catch it with one hand, do a quick inspection and grab the box of shells he slides over the top of the bar. “Bring her back in one piece. That shotgun was my daddy’s.”
Once outside, I tuck it into the duffle strapped to the back and rev the engine before hitting the street. The open highway miles fly by, the sun bright and intense, but at least the wind isn’t blowing and the dust across the desert isn’t drifting across the road, like times before. But still, slowing down for known speed traps irks my ass, and makes me feel like I’m crawling along until I can speed up and feel the wind sucking my face back again.
Mile after mile, I get closer to Vegas. But the road up ahead is bound to be filled with bikers brooding for a good fight on their way to the Tucson meet and I’m going to avoid getting sucked into that as sure as shit. I pull off on a road that will take me a little longer but will most likely save me a whole ton of trouble.
The road climbs high above the highway, winding around, and I follow its edge, for a moment caught up in the vastness of the red rock around me and the depth of the land below. Keeping my eyes peeled for one lone rider who has managed to captivate me like no one else.
Chapter 7
Pearl
The cop car with blaring sirens screams past me, doing at least twice my speed, allowing me to inhale a breath I didn’t realize until this moment that I had been holding. I put the thought of getting stopped out of my mind for now, instead focusing on making it from point A to B in the quickest and safest way possible. Thankful the cop clearly had somewhere else to be.
Two miles out of Vegas and I see the bar Onyx was able to find and send me directions to. I slow my speed and scan the landscape for bikers or signs of any other trouble. I made great time and it’s early, not even the lunch menu has opened, and it doesn’t look like this bar is serving breakfast, which means fewer people and likelihood of interference.
I walk my bike up to the old, dilapidated bar and put my kickstand down, quiet as a church mouse, because I don’t like surprises and sure as hell don’t want anyone inside to know I’m here, until I want them to know.
A dirty window at the back gives me a quick advantage of the layout inside. A bar the length of the right wall, some worn black bar stools that have seen better days, an old pinball machine,and a door that leads somewhere else. I leave my bike, fluff my hair and walk around front, causing the bell on top of the door to chime, alerting anyone within ear shot in the back that someone has entered the bar.
A man with old leather-looking skin and a twisted mustache comes out of the back, his eyes raking over me with a look that makes my skin crawl. He wipes his greasy hands on the even greasier white apron he wears. “What’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?”
Fucking original, slime bag. “I might be lost. Any chance you could help a girl out? I’m heading to Vegas and think I took a wrong turn.”
He smiles, showing a mouth full of chipped yellow teeth. “Let me get a map from the back. I don’t do so good with today’s technology,” he says, but he’s a little too enthusiastic to be getting a map and I know exactly what that fucker is up to.
I walk around the bar and scoot quietly to the door he walked through, listening to the lying little fuck speaking in hushed whispers. “You need to get here now. This one will bring in more money than all of the others combined. Got it. Twenty minutes. I’ll keep her busy.”
My mind races, playing out the different scenarios in my mind. One fucking thing is certain. I’m nobodies bitch, and the slimy, trafficking son of bitch is not going to be keeping me or anyone else company. I move deeper behind the door and slide my knife to his throat as he walks through, pinning his Adam’s apple with the tip of my blade, ensuring he doesn’t make a move. “Where are the ladies?”
