Page 21 of Claimed By the Biker Brothers

“Maybe. But we’ve been on the right side of the law for years now. They’ve got nothing on us. We even file our tax returns on time,” he says.

“What about from before?”

At this point, Knox gives me a sly grin. “We’re still waiting for the statute of limitations to expire on a couple of possible threads, but it’s nothing for you to worry about. We’re good, Robyn. I promise.”

We’re good.

I believe him.

Or I want to believe him; I really do.

But the devil is loose, and until I face him, I don’t think I’ll know how good we truly are.

6

Knox

It’s moving fast.

This thing between Robyn and us. Or maybe it’s moving the way it’s supposed to move given the four years of pushing and pulling we’ve done. Maybe it was bound to happen like this, with precisely this intensity. I like it but, on a deeper level, it scares me. However, I feel as though I’m gladly tumbling toward the edge of a cliff, enjoying the ride.

“What are you thinking?” Jagger asks.

I’m staring out the window of our office. It’s early morning and, downstairs, the clubhouse is closed. Most of our guys are still sleeping off Saturday night.

“Knox.” Diesel’s voice almost startles me.

“Yes?” I reply and turn in my chair to face them. “I was just thinking.”

“About what?” Jagger raises an eyebrow.

Diesel laughs, a smile dancing over his lips. “Brother, you are whipped and then some.”

“Look who’s talking,” I shoot back.

Jagger groans and rubs his face with his bare hands, leaning back into his seat by the coffee table. “We’re all whipped,” he says. “No doubt about it. And we need to figure out what the fuck we’ll do when Calvin finally shows up. It’s a matter of when, not if.”

Whipped.

That’s code for falling in love. Because that’s what it is, whether we’re ready to admit it or not. We’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time, and now that it’s here, we’re trying to take it one step at a time, except every step leads us back into Robyn’s arms and deep in the hot, simmering heaven between her legs. I can’t get that raspy cry of hers when she comes undone, shaking and twitching and holding on to us for dear life, out of my head.

“How far do we take this?” I ask Jagger.

“This what, exactly?”

“Calvin. How far is too far?”

Diesel rolls his eyes. “We could just lay it out so he understands he can never set foot anywhere near her ever again. We all know he doesn’t give a shit about the restraining order.”

“If we go to him first, he’ll suspect something’s going on,” I remind him. “Calvin knows about our lifestyle. He’ll put two and two together, and for a possessive narcissistic piece of trash like him, it’ll blow back on Robyn.”

“It’s preemptive,” Diesel insists. “Put the fear of God in that bastard. He’s afraid of us. I made sure of it.”

Jagger chuckles dryly. “You sure did.”

Diesel did most of the damage when we confronted Calvin about his abuse toward Robyn. He beat the living shit out of the fucker. I wasn’t sure Calvin would survive to see his day in court since we’d already convinced Robyn to file abuse charges against him along with the divorce. It got worse when Calvin ran off, got drunk, and killed a guy in a fit of rage.

Sometimes I feel responsible for that lost life.

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