Onyx (Royal Harlots MC, Phoenix, Az. #2)

1. Onyx

ONYX

Pearl’s wedding was everything we hoped it would be for our fearless leader.

Every single one of us had our heads on a swivel, along with the Royal Bastards from down the street, vigilantly watching and protecting our prez.

All of our crew sitting on our bikes as she rode hers slowly through our line to get to the podium and her husband-to-be.

And when Pearl said I do to Carver, all of us felt the same. Happy for Pearl, who means the world to each and every one of us.

It’s not often I get emotional, but watching Pearl, my closest friend and the president of the Harlots, Phoenix Chapter take her vows with Carver a few hours ago is something I’ll never forget and not one her crew ever expected to see.

But the blue smoldering eyes watching me as he stood behind the podium as the newly married couple kissed and everyone else was hooting and hollering.

Hawg, the arrogant prez of the Royal Bastards, looked right over them and at me.

Brown wavy hair, six foot two at least with a body full of muscle.

And those jeans, and thighs that run right down to those boots.

Trouble with a capital T.

Trying to avert those looks, it’s getting harder and harder to do.

A quick glance at the clock on my bedroom wall in the upper level of the clubhouse has me shimmying out of this fancy little dress and boots in a hurry.

I slip the silky dress onto a hanger and put it in the closet.

Probably the first and only time I’ll be caught in a get up like that.

Only for Pearl would I wear a little dress instead of a good pair of jeans and boots.

I’ll keep it though, as a memory, making a note to put it in one of those storage bags to keep nice. Pearl wanted us all to look pretty on our bikes and Pearl gets what Pearl wants. Not because she’s prez, but because she and I are more like sisters than any blood can get.

I would do anything for her, and she feels the same. A bond far stronger than blood. We would take a bullet for the other in a heartbeat. No matter that she made me dress up in this outfit to stand by her side as she said I do.

Pearl knows she can trust me with anything she tells me or does, and that’s exactly why she made me VP of our Harlots’ motorcycle club.

Trust is not high on either of our radars.

Too much hurt and pain growing up with bad people, a lot of pain and perhaps a few bad decisions of our own keeps us from trusting anyone but us and our crew. Like sisters we never had.

And they’re female which makes it far easier to trust them.

Our past has made us leery of the men who say one thing, do another, and are always on the lookout for a sweet piece of ass or a quick way to make a buck.

We both felt the exact same way. No relationships, just hookups with a few men over the years, nothing to write home about and no more shattered hearts.

At least until Carver.

Pearl is lucky to have found someone who loves her for who she is, that she doesn’t have to soften for, or make excuses for the life she chose. She’s got a keeper; that’s for damn sure. Carver would do anything to keep her safe and did.

I may not have been convinced he was sincere at first, a real lone wolf dependent on no one but himself and a couple buddies, but he’s proven that he’ll always protect her without diminishing who she is time and time again.

He’s the real deal and it gives all of us hope that there are more men like him out there in the world. I slide into a well-worn pair of jeans, pull on some socks and boots, and a navy-blue T- shirt that rocks one of my favorite bands.

Not one person will show up at their wedding reception in the clubhouse tonight wearing fancies including Pearl if I know her at all.

The minute the Harlots could, we all said our congrats to the happy couple, happy to get back home and change into our comfies and put the finishing touches out for the happy couple to celebrate tonight.

I race downstairs.

“Here, let me give you a hand,” I say as Shine, our sergeant at arms tries to wiggle the large cake out of the box. But she shakes her head. Still avoiding me since I burst into her room unannounced. Shame, embarrassment, I don’t know why.

But I do know at some point we’re going to be having a long conversation about what I saw. As soon as I get just a little more information.

The cake is a masterpiece. Special ordered for Pearl and Carver from the local bakery down the street, it’s decorated with two small statues of a guy and a girl on bikes sitting on the top.

Brandy heaves a sigh of relief as she gets the last of the extra beers into the fridge because with the crew we expect, they’ll go down like water on a hot night like tonight.

The balloons it took us hours to blow up are all floating on the ceiling and the little wooden dance floor right off the stage is polished to a shine.

No dancing girls for the guys tonight. This night, it’s only a DJ, a new recruit from the Royal Bastards, Phoenix chapter not far away who knows how to spin.

And the prez who married them loaned him and the others out to protect us and allow him to spin.

Hawg is known across all the land as someone you don’t cross, because he doesn’t put up with much that colors outside the lines.

A real stickler for rules, the mission, and the oath that anyone with him has committed to by wearing those colors.

Tall, muscles for days and handsome as hell.

And those eyes, oh my God that color. A bright brilliant blue that looks like it can see right through to your very soul.

But arrogant, a real ladies’ man, and trouble with a capital T if you ask me, but he’s Carver’s friend, and the officiant of their wedding, so it’s not like he’s not going to show tonight.

I’ll just have to avoid him. I’ll just try and put that irritating man out of my mind.

But it certainly hasn’t worked out well today.

Those eyes on my skin today left trails of desire snaking down the length of my spine.

Yeah, that’s trouble that I don’t need in my life.

That’s for damn sure. I double down on my thought to keep him and those muscles out of my mind.

The cake almost slips out of Shine’s hands as she tries to wrestle it from the box to the large square block it’s supposed to sit atop. “Need some help?” I ask Shine, sliding up next to her at the bar. This time I’m not planning to take no for an answer.

Her eyes stay firmly on the cake, not looking at me at all. “Sure.”

Shine hasn’t said one word to me since I walked in on her while she was putting makeup on, covering up a bruise that I would bet a million dollars got made by her piece of trash boyfriend.

The one I shouldn’t know as much about, but with a few bucks in the right hand, you can find out anything about anyone if you want to bad enough.

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.