Page 84 of Claimed By the Biker Brothers

The giant and the middle guy jump in.

I swerve right to dodge one punch, but I get kicked in the ribs.

Diesel takes on the big guy without hesitation. “Come on, you son of a bitch. You know you want this,” he snarls as the giant charges at him. They grapple, and Diesel gets slammed into the wall, but he brings his elbow down over and over on the guy’s head.

Knox fights the middle guy, ducking and punching with remarkable technique despite the small space.

I grab the scruffy one by the shirt collar and drag him away from the scuffle, then pull him up and have him sit on the bench. He tries to kick me, but I punch him again and again: left hook, right hook, left hook, until my knuckles bleed and he’s too weak to stand. Blood pours from his mouth and nose.

“Are you gonna stop now?” I ask him, “or do you want me to keep going?”

“A little help here!” Diesel grunts.

I turn around and see him overwhelmed as the giant keeps landing punches to his sides. Without hesitation, I swoop in and deliver a low kick on the inside of his calf. The man cries out in agony, then falls to his knee.

To my left, Knox is just about done beating the middle guy to a pulp.

But the giant isn’t ready to give up yet. Before he can stand again, however, I go in hard and fast, punching him in the ear enough times to see him wobble. His eyes roll, and he finally falls for good, flat on his back.

Diesel has trouble getting himself back up on his feet. “Motherfucker’s built like an ox. Jesus Christ, that hurt.”

“I thought you had a handle on this,” I joke as I help him sit on the other bench while Knox drags the middle guy next to my opponent—both of them looking like shit and definitely incapacitated.

“Where the fuck are the cops?” Diesel says, looking around. “That shit should have brought them running.”

“There are four jail cells in this station, yet they put all six of us in this one,” I say.

“Fuck,” Knox curses under his breath, giving me a troubled look. “Marlo’s got someone in here too, a deputy maybe. Fucking hell, she is like a cancer in Redwood; she keeps spreading.”

“We can’t stop her if we’re stuck here,” I say.

A deputy finally rushes over to our cell, looking sweaty and pale-faced. “What the hell happened here? I heard the commotion from the other end of the hall!”

“These three tried to jump us,” Knox bluntly replies. “We had no choice but to defend ourselves.” He pauses and points to the camera mounted in the upper left corner. “You should have footage to confirm.”

“Our lawyers will definitely want to know why we were all put in the same cell, though,” Diesel grumbles, still holding his side.

The deputy answers, his eyes wide with concern. “We were just following Spalding’s orders.”

“Spalding told you to cram us in with them?” I ask, the skin on the back of my neck tightening. The implications are getting uglier with each passing moment. The deputy nods once. “And Sheriff Bentley had no idea.”

“He’s out at the clubhouse, making sure the DEA didn’t get out of line,” the deputy says, “or too much out of line anyway. Samson called the station and complained about it.”

“Smart old man,” I mutter. “Well, you need to put us in a different cell, or this here will only get worse.”

Diesel scoffs. “You might wanna get these fuckers over to the hospital first, though.”

The deputy nods.

“Shit’s getting real,” Diesel then tells Knox. “We can’t let Robyn be on her own, not while she’s carrying—”

“I know,” Knox cuts him off. “I know.”

Robyn and Kyra are our family. We’ve got another kid on the way. We can’t let the Hugheses or the DEA destroy what we’re building here.

Marlo has already declared war, and the fact that Spalding made sure we’d be here when these three gentlemen delivered her message, well… I don’t believe in coincidences, and judging by the looks on Diesel and Knox’s faces, neither do they.

26

---