Her Devils: Devil's Regents MC Books 1-3

by Sarah Bale

  My phone buzzes and I glance at the screen. It’s an appointment reminder with the new therapist tomorrow. I had actually forgotten about it.

  “What’s the frown for?”

  “Agent Hill referred me to a therapist. Tomorrow is my first appointment.”

  “Is it with Dr. Cross?”

  “Yeah. How did you know?”

  “I saw her a few times. I should go back, to be honest.”

  “Why did you stop seeing her?”

  “Because it’s hard to keep lying to yourself when someone like her makes you face your past. It’s not a bad thing, but it wasn’t something I was ready to do at the time.”

  “That doesn’t sound very reassuring.”

  “We’ve both been through some shit, Olivia. She’s one of the few people that I think has been through the same, and it’s kind of nice knowing that we can turn out okay.”

  “Did she say what she went through?”

  “She didn’t have to – she has the same haunted look we all carry.”

  Jas turns her attention back to the TV, but I’m ready to head out.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Jas waves her hand and says the same thing she’s said the last few weeks when I leave. “Whatever suits you, sis.”

  When I step outside, lights turn on across the street as a bike takes off. Bash!

  I want to run after him and beg him to stop, but I don’t. No. I won’t. I touch the piece of paper in my pocket that Jas gave me. They’re about to deal with me – whether they want to or not.

  Bash

  Like clockwork, she leaves the hospital and goes to her waiting Uber. Guess I owe King a hundred bucks for being right since she walked out at six o’clock on the dot. He and Razor have been taking turns keeping an eye on her, but King couldn’t make it tonight. Said he had to deal with some shit.

  Olivia looks tired, but other than that she’s beautiful, as always. When she lifts her head, I start my bike and take off. It’s shitty having to leave like this. She knows we’re there – how could she not? But we aren’t supposed to have contact with her, per Saint. Hell, I guess I should be glad he gave the okay for us to keep an eye on her. He could have told us to stop, and we would have to listen.

  I get why he’s doing this, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. I miss every goddamn thing about her. Her laugh. The scent of her perfume on my pillow. The way her skin flushes when we make love. Groaning, I change lanes. I’m in no mood to be at the clubhouse tonight. So, instead, I’ll go to my house at the lake and hope I can forget her, even if only for a short while.

  4

  Olivia

  Today has been a whirlwind of fucking emotions. Both Agent Hill and Jas were right – Dr. Cross is… well, she’s amazing, to be frank. We started my first session off slow, getting to know each other. But an hour into it, I began to open up. About the club. About the guys. About my past. And even though I didn’t look at all of my demons, I know it’s coming. But the odd thing is I think I’m ready. Dr. Cross knows everything about me, thanks to the file given to her by the FBI, but she never asked about anything I wasn’t ready to talk about. She lets me control the narrative and I really appreciate it.

  My next appointment is in a few weeks. She wanted to make sure I had time to settle into my classes, which I will. But I’m also putting my plan into action at the strip club. Arizona was super nice when I reached out to her, telling me to come to the club tonight. According to her, any friend of Jas is a friend of hers.

  So, that’s where I am right now. My hands tremble as I open the door. I’m here early, like Arizona told me to. She’s at the bar, which is where she said she’d be, drinking with a guy with a long beard. He’s wearing a cut with the Devil’s Regents logo on it, but as I get closer I see it’s a different chapter.

  “Hi,” I greet. “I’m Olivia.”

  “I’m Arizona.” She points to the man. “This is Grey. He’s visiting from Oklahoma.”

  Grey eyes me up and down, letting out a whistle. “Always did have a thing for redheads.”

  Arizona swats his arm. “Cad.” To me, she says, “Let’s go backstage, so I can show you around.”

  Grey salutes me with his bottle of beer in hand as I follow Arizona backstage. There are several women walking around, some completely nude. And each is beautiful, making me feel like I don’t belong.

  One of the women reaches out, lifting a strand of my hair. “Is this your natural color?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I would kill to have hair that shade.” She smiles. “The men are going to love you.”

  I smile back, feeling less intimidated.

  Arizona takes me to an empty locker. “You can put your things in here. Be sure to keep it locked. We don’t have very many thefts, but it’s still better not to tempt anyone. Did you bring three outfits?”

  I open my bag pulling out the three that Jas picked out for me. “Will this work?”

  “Hell yeah. You’re going to have men drooling at your feet.” She grins. “So, tonight I’m going to have you bartend. While you’re behind the bar, watch the other girls and see what they’re doing. Tomorrow I’ll have you work the floor as a waitress.”

  “When will I be on stage?”

  “You’re eager. I like that. If all goes well, you’ll be on stage in a few weeks. Hopefully by Halloween, which you will love. We all dress up and the Devil’s Regents come out to party.”

  I grin. “I can’t wait.”

  I spend the rest of the night serving drinks and watching how the other women interact with the men. It’s basically how the club whores worked, minus the open displays of sex. I guess that’s how fine that line is, really. By the end of the night I’m feeling better than I have in a long time. I can do this. And then I’m going to make them eat their hearts out.

  Arizona schedules me at the club Tuesday through Thursday, since those are the slower days. Each time someone walks through the doors, I half hope and half fear that it’s Saint, King, Razor, and Bash. More specifically Saint, if I’m being truthful. He’s the one with the power to send me away. Or to bring me back into their world.

  I ask Arizona about it on my second week.

  “How often does Saint come here?”

  Her eyebrows lift. “You know Saint?”

  “We’ve met.”

  “He doesn’t come by much. Usually at the end of the month to do the books and make sure the numbers add up. His club officers used to be here all the time, but word is that they were all dating the same chick, and they stopped coming around here.”

  My cheeks feel warm. “Have they been around recently?”

  “His VP, King, stopped by about a weeks ago. His mom passed away, and I think he was looking for company. He left alone, though, after a few drinks.”

  His mom passed away? My heart aches, knowing how painful it must be for him. I wish there were some way I could comfort him. Or, you know, even contact him.

  She motions for me to follow. “Come on. I’m going to have Tulip show you how to work the pole.”

  “Do you think I’m ready?”

  “I know you are.”

  Tulip is a petite woman, with dark brown hair and tattoos covering ninety percent of her body. She’s cute as hell, though, and her pint-sized badass look works for her.

  She smiles as I walk up. “Finally. I’ve been dying to teach you.”

  “Me? Why?”

  She gestures up and down. “You have the body for this. You’re going to rock. I can feel it in my bones.”

  Arizona adds, “She’s never wrong.”

  “I’m not. I’ll have you twirling by the end of the night. And, if you really want to get ahead, I teach pole dancing in my studio in the mornings.”

  “I’ll definitely have to stop by then.”

  Because I’m going to do whatever it takes to get Saint, King, Razor, and Bash’s attention.

  “Alright. Let’s get started.”

  A few weeks
later, I’m finally getting the hang of pole dancing. Tulip is a freaking genius and watching her dance is mesmerizing. According to her, I’ll be able to be as good as she is if I keep taking classes. Her studio isn’t what I expected, either. She teaches pole dancing twice a week, but she also teaches ballet, jazz, ballroom, and even aerial yoga, which I’m going to try out next. Arizona told me I’m ready to go on-stage, too. My skills don’t have to be perfect to get up there and shake my ass, she says.

  I enter the townhouse and go to my room, dropping my duffle bag and my backpack on the floor. It’s been tricky balancing the dance classes, school, visiting Jas, going to sessions with Dr. Cross, and working at the strip club, but I’m making it work. I’m dead ass tired, though, and fall face first onto my bed.

  “Olivia? Is that you?” Lucy calls out.

  I groan into my pillow, but answer, “Yeah. I’m in my room. I’m seriously thinking about taking a nap.”

  “Let me guess, you were in the library?”

  “I was seeing my therapist.”

  Saying it out loud is kind of empowering. But, that’s how Dr. Cross makes me feel - empowered and inspired.

  Lucy’s eyes widen. “I didn’t know you were seeing a therapist. What’s their name? I’m in the market for a new one.”

  “I didn’t know you were seeing one, either.”

  She laughs. “I mean, who doesn’t have one these days? My old one retired and the man who took over her practice is a real tool.”

  “I’ll give you her information. She’s really nice.”

  “Cool.” She tosses a box on my bed. “You got a package today.”

  “I did?”

  “A courier dropped it off while you were out.”

  Rolling over, I take the pink box and lift the lid. Inside in a skimpy piece of bright blue lingerie and a note.

  I can’t wait to see you in this.

  I flip the card over. There’s no signature. Nothing.

  Lucy lifts the lingerie. “Dang girl. Did Bash send this?”

  I look at the barely-there lacy outfit. This isn’t Bash’s style. Hell, it’s not even Razor’s or King’s. It’s borderline sleazy. Okay, not borderline. It’s totally sleazy. Who in the heck sent it?

  “I’m not sure who this is from. Did you have to sign for it?”

  “No. They asked for you, and when I told them that you were in class, they left it.” She gnaws on her bottom lip. “In retrospect, I shouldn’t have told the guy that you lived here, but I’ve seen other couriers in that outfit. It’s the same company my dad uses to run errands.”

  “I’m sure it’s fine. Heck, maybe it’s not even for me.”

  She looks doubtful. “Maybe.”

  “Well, thanks for giving it to me. I’m going to take a quick nap and then I have to run.”

  “Are you visiting your friend in the hospital?”

  “Yeah.” I lie. “I won’t be out too late, though.”

  I’m not sure if she believes me, but she's barely here as it is, so I’m not too worried about it. Tonight is the night I go onstage. And I can’t wait.

  Saint

  Razor taps on my door. His dark hair is longer than I’ve ever seen it, hanging in his eyes.

  “Arizona called. The end of the month books are ready for you.”

  Fuck. Is it really the end of the month? It doesn’t seem like it.

  “Thanks. Want to join me?”

  He gives me a look letting me know how he feels about me.

  “No.” The one word holds a ton of different meanings.

  He stumbles off, probably going to the bar to get another bottle of booze to take to his room. I watch him leave with a sigh. I’ve let them sulk over losing Olivia for over three weeks now, but this shit is getting old. We all miss her, but they can’t keep disrespecting me like this, especially in front of our brothers. It doesn’t set a good tone. If they don’t feel like they can serve under me, then it’s time to look into alternatives, like transferring to a different chapter. It’s not what I want to happen, but something’s got to give.

  Grabbing my phone, I head outside to the garage where my bike is parked. The strip club is on the other side of town, close to the beach. During the spring and summer, it’s one hell of a cash cow. Business usually slows down at the end of October, and I’ll be glad for it. It’s a great investment, but, man, it is a lot of upkeep. Thankfully my club manager is able to handle the day-to-day issues without involving me.

  I pull up to the brick building and park in my reserved spot in the front. The bouncer dips his head as I pass. He’s itching to get an invite to be a Prospect, but I don’t know if he’s cut out for the lifestyle. For now, I’ll keep him here and see if he works out.

  The club is packed, and I head to the bar where I usually meet Arizona. She’s there with a customer, so I take a free seat near her. She gives me a nod over his head, letting me know she sees me.

  A bartender comes over, one I’ve not seen before. “Can I get you something?”

  She looks timid as hell and probably won’t last long here.

  I smile. “A beer is fine.”

  “Any particular kind?”

  “Surprise me.”

  She nods, grabbing me an expensive brand. Good girl.

  I ask, “How long has it been packed tonight?”

  “For an hour. We have two bachelor parties and one more on the way.”

  She moves on to take someone else’s order and I take a swig of beer.

  Arizona comes to my side, sitting next to me with a loud sigh. “Jesus. I didn’t think I was going to get away. He’s a nice guy, but he never shuts up.”

  “Does he get dances?”

  “Every once in a while. I think they make him feel guilty, so he mostly just wants to chat at the bar.”

  There’s a loud crash at the other end of the bar and the bartender bends, picking the broken glass from the floor.

  “I don’t think your new girl is going to last long.”

  “Tell me about it. I had her waitressing and she was even worse on the floor. We’ve got some new ones who are freaking amazing, though.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  I try to act interested, but I’m not.

  “Yeah. One of them is about to go on stage for the first time. Want to watch her?”

  “I should really get going. I need to get back to the clubhouse and take care of some shit there.”

  “Suit yourself.” She stands. “Come on. The books are in the office.”

  I stand, ready to follow her when the lights dim, signaling that another dancer is about to go on the main stage.

  “Give a loud welcome to our new girl, Ms. Mayhem.” The music cues and the DJ says, “She’s crawled from the depths of hell and she’s looking for a good time.”

  Ms. Mayhem?

  It’s a common enough phrase, but then I see her fucking red hair reflecting in the mirrored walls. The men catcall her as she makes her way to the pole and my anger rises.

  I say to Arizona, “Get her off that fucking stage.”

  “Wha-”

  “Get her off the stage. Now! And bring her to my office.”

  Arizona takes off and I head to the back, motioning for two of the security guards to follow.

  The lights go out and I hear the DJ say, “Okay, looks like we’re having some technical difficulties. Up next is the lovely Honey Combs. Come on fellas, let Honey know how sweet she is.”

  I am too fucking wired to even sit. What in the fuck is Olivia doing here, in my club?

  Arizona taps on the door. “Saint?”

  She enters with Olivia right behind her. Fuck. She didn’t even put a robe on, so I’m getting a goddamn nice show right now. She’s wearing blue booty shorts with a matching top. And her heels – fuck – I have sweet spot for heels like that. Crossing the room, I go to the closet and grab a robe, tossing it to her.

  “Cover up.”

  She does, glaring at me the whole time.

  Arizona says, �
��Saint? I’m not sure I understand what’s going on. This is Olivia. She’s one of the new girls I was telling you about.”

  “I’m aware who she is.”

  “I- is there a problem?”

  “How long has she been working here?”

  Arizona’s looking at Olivia like she’s sprouted a second head or something.

  Arizona answers, “Almost two weeks.”

  I glance at Olivia, who stares back. Her entire attitude is basically one big fuck you right now.

  “Who the fuck gave you permission to hire her?”

  Arizona’s cheeks flush. “She had a referral, and a good one at that. And she did well during training. How was I supposed to know?”

  Did well during training? I don’t doubt that Olivia excelled. Her beauty alone is enough to have men eating out of her hands. Add her wit, charm, and brains and I just bet she did well. Bitter jealousy stirs through me at thought of men leering and lusting after her. Fuck.

  I jab my finger toward Olivia. “She doesn’t dance here. She doesn’t even step foot inside the club. Got it?”

  Olivia lets out a small laugh and I turn, facing her.

  “You need to go.”

  “I gathered as much from your barbarian reaction.” She moves toward me. “Why, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you care about me, Saint.”

  The room goes silent, as no one in their right mind would even think of questioning me. But she does. Because she sees through all my bullshit and she knows how much I do fucking care.

  “Olivia, we cared enough to let you go.”

  “I recall it happening differently.”

  “It is what it is.”

  “And that’s it? You say you’re done with me and I just go away?”

  “Yes.”

  She shakes her head. “Why am I not surprised?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You’re a coward, Saint.”

  One of the security guards steps forward, but I hold up my hand.