Page 1 of Claimed By the Biker Brothers

1

Robyn

The rumble of motorcycle engines causes Kyra to jump off of the sofa before I can even blink. It’s a familiar sound, just unexpected.

“Kyra, honey, you almost spilled your hot cocoa,” I say.

“Mommy!” she chirps as she sets her mug on the coffee table and rushes to the window.

Lights cut through the darkness outside. My heart skips a beat as I get up from my seat to see for myself.

“Mommy, why are there motorcycles in the yard?”

“I don’t know, baby, but I need you to move away from the window.”

She gives me a curious look, her bright blue eyes sparkling with curiosity. Her pale blue plush jammies make her skin resemble alabaster, aided by the pitch black of the curls framing her cute, round, freckled face.

“They look huge!” she says.

“Yes, the bikes are pretty big, eh?”

“They’re our friends, right?” my precocious five-year-old asks, recognizing the men as they get off their bikes.

My back muscles tighten as my gaze wanders from one man to another as they turn the motorcycle engines off and remove their helmets.

“Jaggy!” Kyra exclaims, recognizing him first.

“And Knox and Diesel,” I say, matching her jolly tone despite the tremor in my voice.

A second later, I’m at the door and swing it wide open. The cool late summer breeze swoops through the house and sends chills down my spine. I stand in the doorway with Kyra glued to my leg as the three Rogue Riders walk up to us.

Like fine wines, they’re only getting better with age.

They are tall and handsome, built like football players but with a few silver specks in their hair. These men have been my rocks since Kyra and I ended up on our own. I owe them so much, yet they want nothing in return for their kindness. Just my time, my friendship, and my forgiveness that they didn’t see the signs sooner.

There’s nothing to forgive.

“Hey, Robyn. Hey, Kyra.” Jagger is the first to speak upon reaching the sturdy porch of our house. I’m briefly distracted by the way those dark blue jeans hug his muscular thighs and the sound of his steel-toed leather boots thudding across the hardwood. “Sorry for showing up like this.”

“It’s okay,” I reply with a soft smile, then look at Knox and Diesel. “Are you guys alright? What’s the matter?”

Knox gives me a long, silent look. I can’t breathe for a moment, losing myself in the steely blue pools of his eyes while the overhead porch light casts a subtle glimmer over his wheat-blonde hair. “Can we come in?”

Something is definitely wrong.

“Jaggy!” Kyra exclaims and runs right into his arms.

Jagger is quick to sweep the little one off her feet and lift her up, holding her close as she hugs the life out of him. She looks so tiny in his embrace, but she feels safe with him. She’s always felt safe with him, and it makes my heart melt every time I see them together.

“You munchkin,” Jagger quips as Kyra runs a hand through his dark, unruly hair streaked with silver strands, warmth swirling in his brown eyes while he looks at her. “Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

“Yeah, but Mommy said I could have hot chocolate before bed.”

“I just didn’t expect her to take her sweet time drinking it,” I say with a giggle, then give Knox and Diesel a slight nod. “Let’s all go inside.”

I lead the way, almost holding my breath as I feel their eyes on me. Jagger carries Kyra into the living room, and she goes back to her hot chocolate while Diesel walks over to the window and keeps his pale grey gaze set on the street. There’s not much to see at this hour and with so few streetlights on. It’s the visible tension in his broad shoulders that pushes me closer to the edge.

“What’s going on?” I ask, motioning for them to follow me into the kitchen where Kyra can’t hear.

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