Page 38 of Claimed By the Biker Brothers

My last client walked out thirty minutes ago with fresh tips and a smile on her face. My workstation is spotless and ready for tomorrow. Half of the lights in the salon are off. It’s almost six pm, and the street is practically empty. At this hour, most people are already home.

“Where’s Kyra now?” Rita asks as I grab my keys from the reception counter.

“Ellie’s with her at her place. I’ll pick up my princess, and then we’re going to cuddle on the sofa and watch something colorful and, hopefully, funny.”

“Oh, there are a couple of great titles hitting the streaming platforms this week,” she says. “If not, you can always turn to the classics.”

“Yeah, Kyra won’t mind watchingBeauty and the Beastagain,” I reply. “Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow, Rita. Thanks again.”

“No probs, mami.”

As soon as I step out into the street, the cool evening air hits me. It’s already dark at this hour. Summer is long gone, and the maple trees lining the sidewalk display their ruby red leaves proudly. The streetlamps cast their amber glow over the pavement as cars drive by, their taillights briefly catching my eye. It’s so quiet, unlike the storm of uncertainty brewing in my chest.

I’ve been walking around with this feeling for a while now. I’d hoped it would wear off on its own, but it’s only gotten worse. Doubt. Fear. The absence of control over what will happen next.

“Robyn.” A familiar voice freezes me to my spot.

I hold my breath for a moment, then swallow as I slowly turn around to face him. “Calvin,” I whisper.

Seeing him in the flesh fills me with dread.

“It’s been a while,” he says, smiling. But it’s not a genuine smile, I can tell.

The years haven’t been kind to him. Then again, he spent them in prison. He’s lost some weight, and his long, once-shiny red hair looks dull and lifeless now. There’s a fire burning in his blue eyes, though. His skin looks pale, and I see a couple of new tattoos on his left cheek—he must’ve gotten them in prison.

He’s wearing jeans and a long brown jacket with a white tee underneath. Had I not immediately recognized him, I probably would’ve paid him no mind. Calvin blends in. A little too well. Maybe that’s how he’s been dodging the Riders.

“It’s been a month since you got out,” I say with a trembling voice. “What are you doing here?”

Calvin offers a slight shrug. “I wanted to get my ducks in a row before I came to see you,” he says. “I figured I’d make myself presentable. Land a job. Bring something to the table.”

“There’s no seat for you at the table anymore.”

“Listen, Robyn, please. Just hear me out.”

“What are you doing out of prison so early?”

He stills, his blue gaze scanning me from top to bottom. “Gosh, you’re even more beautiful than the last time I saw you.”

“You threatened to destroy me the last time you saw me.”

“I was angry, unwilling to take accountability for my actions. I’m a changed man, Robyn. As weird as it might seem, it turns out I really needed to go to prison to fully understand what I did and why I did it. I promise you I just want to talk to you. I want to make amends.”

“Then why are you dodging my questions?”

And there it is. That slightly arrogant chuckle of his. “You’re not going to cut me any slack, are you?”

“Why should I?”

I look around. Very few people are still out and about at this hour. And where the hell is my guard? Shouldn’t someone be here? If push comes to shove, I can scream and draw enough attention to scare Calvin away. He seems wary, cautious despite his close proximity. I decide to put his patience to the test and take a couple of steps back. He doesn’t move, but he doesn’t take his eyes off me either.

“I’ll have you know, I got a job,” Calvin says. “It’s legit, I promise. It pays well too. I’m gonna be able to buy you a new car.”

“I don’t want anything from you, Calvin. Keep whatever money you’re making.”

“Well, Kyra deserves better. There’s that uppity school over in Central Point. I could pay for that. How is our daughter, anyway? I’d hoped you would at least send me some photos or videos of her while I was—”

“Locked up for killing a man?” I say, cutting him off. “After what you did to me? To Kyra? Have you lost your damn mind?”

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