Page 21 of Pearl (Royal Harlots MC, Phoenix, Az. #1)

Pearl

T he Larussios step out of the car in their black suits and polished leather shoes. The blood pounds in my veins as I meet their dark intense eyes, so much like the cousin who I killed that it would make my blood run cold if we weren’t in the middle of a heat wave in the desert.

I glance around, one last time, but don’t let my eyes come anywhere near Carver’s or directly into the eyes of any of my crew. One look, and I won’t be able to go through with it. “Stay close,” Carver growls as I start to move.

But my mind is already made up. I’m the one who got myself into the situation so many years ago, I’m the one who made the decision to end him and run, and I am the one who needs to come clean and shelter Carver and my team from any of the backlash sure to come.

I made my peace with the fact my actions may be the reason for my demise years ago.

It’s been pure luck or divine intervention that’s kept the mafia from finding me for so long.

Years that I didn’t plan to have, years that I made the most of, and years that were well spent.

Whatever happens next, I had a good life.

No matter that the thought of spending more time in Carver’s arms pulls at my heart.

I won’t allow him or anyone to be hurt at my expense, and so I keep moving, until I’m at arm’s length with the notorious capos of the Larussio crew.

The powerful men walk toward me, and I don’t see so much as sense the Rival presidents, Capone and Ryker, sliding in beside me, one on either side as though walking me to slaughter and ensuring I don’t run.

I suck in a deep breath of courage hoping that Onyx conveys my wishes to the crew.

She and only she knew this day would come, when I may have to pay retribution for that night in a dark alley so many years ago.

Renzo, the one I met at the bar, assesses me with designer frame sunglasses sitting on his head, his eyes piercing and deep, as Carver joins us. “So, you’re the one.”

He wants me to admit to it, but not without reassurances. “There’s two sides to every story, but whatever I’ve done, they were my actions alone. Not that of my crew, Carver, the Phoenix Crew or your men here beside me. Mine alone.”

Matteo remains expressionless, as Renzo continues to stare at me.

“Your knife is one of a kind. We traced it by the description of the carving to a pawn shop years ago, but while the owner remembered hearing about one like it, the shop had changed hands and records weren’t kept and cash was a must.”

The lump in the back of my throat is hard to swallow, past fear and all the emotions of the gift from my father and how I needed it to save my life. “It’s saved my life a few times over the years.”

Renzo’s eyes raise, so much like the man years ago.

Somehow I manage to get past the dryness in my throat. “I didn’t mean to kill your cousin. I didn’t know he was a Larussio. I was young, heading home through a dark alley that I wouldn’t dare walk today, and he attacked me. I was defending myself. He was drunk and…” My voice chokes.

He pulls out a picture and hands it to me. “Is this the man you remember?”

My heart beats faster as I look at the older picture of the man I killed with one scared thrust of the knife, trying to get away with my virginity and my life, only to gain a sentence of running from that day and always looking over my shoulder.

At least that never ending feeling will end.

“Yes,” I whisper, resigned in my decision to not try fighting my way out of the inevitable. Enough running.

Those dark eyes hold mine captive. “You didn’t kill our cousin, Pearl. Hurt him, yes. But honestly, physically the damage was minimal. A few stitches to repair, nothing he hasn’t endured numerous times before or after.”

My head spins. “He’s alive?” And now they’ll take me to him. After everything I’ve been through, he’ll get what he wanted to begin with. I’m not the crying kind but the injustice of it all brings moisture to my eyes.

Renzo’s eyes meet mine without flinching.

“Our cousin is dead. Let’s just say that his penchant for women and greed was his demise.

He made his bed and lies buried in the ground.

I’ve seen your courage firsthand along with your values, like not killing that man in the bar who worked for us without even knowing we were there.

Pearl, you have nothing left to fear. My cousin Matteo and I are sorry for what you endured.

We’ve offered Carver a position with us and would extend one to you as well.

But we know your dedication to staying in Phoenix with your crew. ”

It’s a lot to take in. I didn’t kill the bastard.

Part of me is relieved while another one thought his death at my hand was just. But it’s freeing, free of the running, hiding, and everything about that night.

But it also comes with the loss of Carver.

Because no matter what, I believe Carver is a man of his word.

He’ll work for the Larussios and their home is Vegas, not Phoenix, where me and the Harlots call home.

“Thank you very much. I appreciate your kindness.”

Matteo looks over at the Harlots. “You and your ladies, you made a couple runs for a friend of ours. If we need more help moving women who have fallen on hard times or find themselves in need of relocation, we’ll send word through Duchess.

Thanks for keeping them safe, and for your tenacity in getting rid of so many of the Riders.

They work for a rival family who . . . let’s just say their values regarding women do not align with ours. ”

Now my interest is peaked. He’s not going to come right out and say it, but I’m damn good at reading between the lines.

Those women aren’t a source of contention between the bikers, but mafia families.

The bikers are just the ones running the girls and playing interference.

“You’re welcome. The ladies and I are always willing to help women in trouble.

Call us anytime. Duchess has our number. ”

Renzo and Matteo turn to Ryker and Capone. “The trash on the road?”

“Cleaners will be here before you know it. The cops have the traffic on either side being rerouted until we’re done.”

Renzo nods, looking around at the carnage on the ground. “A good day’s work,” he says, spinning and heading back to the SUV still running on the road. Matteo looks at Carver. “We’ll be in touch,” he says, and joins his cousin.