Page 90 of Claimed By the Biker Brothers

The SUV crashes into the left rear side of the car, damn near knocking me off the road. I hold on to the wheel for dear life, steering away from scarce put potentially deadly oncoming traffic. The SUV driver is intent on trying again. I put the pedal to the metal, the sedan trembling as it struggles to get away from the attack.

My blood runs cold through my veins.

I cry out, scared senseless when he hits me again, this time smack in the center.

The car shakes and shudders.

“Fuck,” I gasp as I see the SUV coming in for a third strike.

But relief washes over me as I also see a pack of motorcycles racing toward us from the opposite lane: Harleys, a dozen of them, big hogs with sterling steel bars and furious engines, each with big riders.

I glance in the rearview mirror. “Thank God.”

The SUV pulls away then comes to a full stop and does a U-turn, rushing to flee from the oncoming bikers. I pull over to the side of the road, briefly wondering if this rickety old sedan can still make it all the way back to Ellie’s house.

Three of the riders stop next to me while the others go after my attacker.

“Robyn!” one of the three shouts as he jumps off his bike.

Only now do I see him clearly. My heart leaps. “Knox? Oh, my gosh!” I cry out and throw myself in his arms, crying like a little girl.

“I thought we might lose you there for a second,” he says, gently holding me, giving me a few moments to just exhale and sob and let the terror flush out of my system.

Diesel and Jagger join him, each resting a hand on my shoulders.

“You’re out,” I say, finally looking up at them. “But your lawyer—”

“Faraday’s assistant took advantage of an opening in the new judge’s calendar for our arraignment hearing. He asked us if we wanted to wait another hour for Faraday, but we said, ‘Fuck it, let’s do this now,’” Knox says. “The guy had everything he needed to make a compelling argument as to why we should be given bail.”

“We paid the whole thing and here we are,” Jagger adds, giving me a worried look. “We were on our way into town when the calls came in about the shooting.”

“How’d you know where to find me?” I ask, tears still pricking my eyes.

Diesel smiles broadly. “Samson told us he gave you his car and told you to get out of there. We figured you would hit the belt road in order to get around and reach Ellie’s without picking up a tail. You’re a smart woman, Robyn. The belt road was the safest bet.”

“Or so I thought,” I scoff. “That maniac almost killed me back there.”

“We considered that possibility too,” Knox says, “which is why we were on our way to escort you to Ellie’s.”

“I cannot thank you enough.” I hug him, then Jagger, then Diesel, kissing each for good measure. “What’s next?”

The guys exchange concerned glances before they look at me.

“We put together a plan,” Jagger says. “It isn’t the best, but it’s the best out of the worst, given recent developments.”

I don’t like the sound of that.

28

Robyn

Iride with Knox as we leave Samson’s sedan behind and go somewhere just a few blocks away from our neighborhood to talk. In a small alleyway behind a grocery store, they tell me what happened from the moment they were taken to the jail until they walked out as free men.

Shuddering, I huddle against Jagger, welcoming the warmth of his body and the comfort of their presence while my mind races every which way.

“You can’t stay in Redwood, at least not for the next week or so,” Knox concludes. “You can’t be seen with Riders either. You have a target on your back.”

“What do I do?”

---