Page 68 of Claimed By the Biker Brothers

“Oh, God, no,” I say, shaking my head and nervously laughing at the same time. “Please, don’t worry about it. It’s not like that, I promise.”

Yet another lie coming out of my mouth. It’s been happening more and more lately. The more secrets I keep, the more lies I must tell. Life used to be so much simpler.

“Are you sure?” Ellie says and frowns. She keeps her brown eyes locked on mine.

“Positive. You’ve got nothing to worry about. Besides, if the zombie apocalypse happens, the clubhouse will basically become some kind of wartime fort. You’ll definitely be safe here,” I reply with a chuckle.

I don’t know if it’s the reassuring response that she was hoping for, but it’s the best I can do under these circumstances. Ellie keeps looking around while I inhale what’s left of the pancakes. I follow her gaze, noticing how she scans people, yet whenever said people glance her way, she looks elsewhere, suddenly busy wiping down the bar counter or rinsing some cups.

There’s nothing inherently suspicious about it. Ellie has always been apprehensive around new people, and I know she’s not the biggest fan of motorcycle clubs and biker gangs in general.

“I don’t know why you’re so on edge all the time,” I say.

“I’m not,” she replies. “It’s just… new job, fresh faces. Behind the bar, it’s my duty to keep an eye out, to observe, to read the body language of people. It comes naturally to me.”

“Fair enough… Listen, we need to head out now, but are we still on for tonight?”

“Sure thing. Bring Kyra over and I’ll take her home. I can drop her off at school tomorrow as well.”

“Thank you so much, Ellie.”

“Don’t mention it. But do have fun with the fellas.”

With Kyra safely in class until later this afternoon, I make my way to work.

Checking the rearview mirror, I see Paulie riding close behind my Prius. He’s been rather quiet since my near-escape incident. The guys assured me they didn’t tear him a new one about it, but I think he figured it out on his own. Either way, there’s been a bit of a wedge between us.

I pull up outside the salon and get out of the car. My phone beeps. It’s a text from Knox.

We’ve got two prospects watching the school. I made sure the principal has their details, just in case, he writes.

The rumbling of Paulie’s engine draws my attention for a moment. He parks across the street and gives me a quick glance before he goes into the café for what I assume is a double shot of espresso and a bear claw—his regular breakfast while keeping an eye on me.

I respond with a slight nod, then turn to make my way into the salon. I see Rita behind the reception desk.

“Robyn,” Calvin says.

My muscles stiffen as I take a few steps to the side, trying to put a greater distance between us. “You’re in breach of the restraining order—again.”

“I know, I know,” he says, his hands out in a mildly defensive gesture. “Just hear me out, please. I’m not here to hurt you or anything, I swear.”

“I don’t believe a single word coming out of your mouth,” I snap, searching my jacket pockets for my phone.

“Please, Robyn,” he insists.

I give him a long, hard look, noticing the grey suit he’s wearing—the complete opposite of his usual jeans and leather jacket. “What do you want?” I ask. “You’ve got precisely one minute before I call the cops.”

“I come with a warning, Robyn.”

“A warning?” I reply. “What warning?”

“The Rogue Riders are going down, okay? The law’s after them. Marlo’s after them. You and Kyra don’t wanna get caught in the crossfire. Think about our daughter for a second, here—”

“Mydaughter!” I hiss. “You have no right to even mention her name!”

“She’s my daughter too no matter what you say. And I care about her. I care about you.”

“Is that why you called me a whore when I wouldn’t fall for your bullshit again? Get the hell away from me.”

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