Page 64 of Claimed By the Biker Brothers

I’ll text Ellie and Rita later to apologize for my sudden departure. I’ll have to tell Diesel, Jagger, and Knox too, but only once I’m far enough away from this place. Looking around, it seems quiet. The neighborhood is half-asleep at this hour, which will work in my favor.

“They’re going to tear Paulie a new one,” I grumble as I open the driver’s door, ready to jump in, but I freeze at the sound of Harleys coming. “Shit.”

Knox, Jagger, and Diesel pull up in front of my Prius.

“What are you doing?” Knox asks as he takes his helmet off.

“I thought I’d take Kyra out for ice cream,” I mumble, though even I’m not buying my own story.

Judging by the looks on their faces, neither are they.

We stand like this for what feels like forever. Nobody says anything. They scan me from my head to my toes. They glance over to the car too. I notice a soft smile blooming on Diesel’s face. I follow his gaze and see Kyra waving at him from her car seat. He waves back. I am wracked with guilt and don’t know what to do about it.

“Where’s Paulie?” Jagger asks.

I can’t come up with a lie fast enough.

“Back in the house,” Knox commands.

“If I could just—”

“We’ve got too much to deal with right now, Robyn,” he says.

Exhaling deeply, I look up at him. “Why are you here? What happened back at the clubhouse with Marlo and Calvin?”

“Nothing happened with Calvin,” Jagger says. “He stayed by Marlo’s car the whole time.”

“And Marlo?”

“It’s why we’re here,” Knox replies. “You’ll be staying with us for a while at the clubhouse.”

Diesel goes to look in the trunk. “Looks like you’re already packed.”

Jagger swears under his breath and Knox shakes his head. “Let’s go.”

The drive is a quiet one. Kyra is half-asleep in the back; jazz plays on the radio. Streetlights whoosh past us, casting flickers of amber light across the black pavement. Twenty minutes later, we’re outside the clubhouse. To my astonishment, the parking lot is overflowing with motorcycles: all Harleys, all Rogue Riders. The bar is packed.

“What’s going on?” I ask as I get out of the car.

“We summoned the entire club for a meeting tomorrow morning,” Knox says, taking the keys out of his hog’s ignition. “They’re not all here yet.”

“All of them?”

“Yeah, it’ll get even more crowded at dawn,” Diesel says and chuckles dryly, then he and Jagger take our bags out of the trunk, carrying them over to a staircase attached to the side of the clubhouse, leading directly up to the top floor. “Come on, let’s get you ladies safe and comfortable.”

Knox takes a sleepy Kyra in his arms, letting me lock the car and follow them.

“Come on,” Knox says. “You’ll love it.”

“Love what?”

I get my answer as soon as we reach the top floor. The main side door at the top of the stairs is secured with an electronic lock, for which I’m given a key. “This is yours,” Knox says, and I slip the key in my jacket pocket. “There were only five keys issued for that door, just so you know. One for me, one for Knox, one for Diesel, one for Samson, and now one for you.”

“Okay.”

I follow them down a narrow hallway with walnut paneling and a solid, dark hardwood floor. At the very end, several doors past their office, Jagger and Diesel go into a room. As soon as I join them, I find myself breathless. “Oh, wow.”

“This should work, yeah?” Knox asks.

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