Claimed By My Father’s Outlaw

RAINE

I was elbow-deep in someone else’s bike when my dad decided to ruin my afternoon.

Of course, he didn’t knock. He never does. He barged into the garage in his bike gear and stared me down until I finally released an exasperated sigh.

I wiped my hands on a rag, refusing to look up. “You’re standing in my light, dad.”

He moved closer, boots making a thump noise against the concrete. “My light, Raine. This is my garage, remember? You just work here because I’m nice.”

I laughed bitterly and threw the rag aside. “Yeah, you’re a real saint.”

Dad leaned against the workbench, watching me like I was a disappointment to him. His leather vest creaked when he crossed his arms. “You’ve been running your mouth around the club again,” he noted. “Something about money that you're owed?”

“Oh, that,” I muttered, setting down my wrench. “Yeah, some of your buddies still owe me for the jobs I did last month. I figured I’d finally ask for what I’m owed, since you seem to be taking the issue with too much levity.”

He snarled at me. “You do not get paid for fixing family bikes!”

“They’re not my family!” I retorted. “They’re freeloaders who think I’m the help, and you're not doing anything to convince them otherwise!”

My dad snorted. "You are the help, Raine!"

“Maybe teach your men to pay their debts,” I snapped. “Half of them treat me like a fucking intern. I keep their junk running while they’re out drinking and breaking bones, and somehow I’m the ungrateful one?”

He chuckled. “You sound just like your mother when she used to nag.”

The mention of her made my stomach swoop down. I returned my gaze to the wench so he wouldn't see the sadness in my eyes. “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?” He tilted his head, pretending to be innocent. “You hate hearing the truth? She wanted you soft and I made sure you weren’t.”

I glared at him. “You made sure I was miserable. Guess that’s why you never thought I could take your place as the leader of the Iron Serpents."

He paused, then laughed ugly. “You? Lead the Serpents? You're not leadership material!"

My throat burned with tears. “Funny. Mom used to say the same thing about you.”

My father's smile collapsed just as quickly as it had appeared. He advanced towards me, throwing a shadow over my face, and I fought the urge to hide under the work bench. All of a sudden, I was a terrified little girl again.

My breath hitched in my throat and I struggled to maintain eye-contact with him. "Dad, don't."

"You cannot lead this sect, because you are not—"

"Because I'm not the son you wanted?" I finished for him. "Because I'm not David, right? I will never live up to the standards he set before he died. Is that not so, Dad?"

A shadow of sadness flashed in my father's eyes for a second, before he collected himself again. Plastering a fake smile on his face, he continued:

"This is where you belong, Raine. Fixing bikes like the good daughter that you are. And next time I catch wind of you demanding for what's not yours, I will make sure that's the last time you ever have hands to work with."

He turned around and left the garage before I could spare him a reply. I furiously wiped the tear that rolled down my soot-stained cheek and turned back to the bike I was fixing.

It’s been that way since Mom and my older brother David died in a freak biking accident. It was like something inside him had broke, and all that’s left is the version that hates that fact that I was the only one who survived.

And I would keep fixing bikes for men who’ll never see me as anything more than the girl who cleans up after them.

Some days, I think maybe he’s right. Maybe I wasn’t built for this world.

I was still shaking from the argument with my dad, when I heard the rumble of a bike behind me. I hid my reddened and tear-streaked face away from the entrance of the garage and pretended to focus on the bike I was supposed to be fixing.

"I'm busy!" I yelled at whoever that was. "Come around some other time!"

But either the person didn't hear me, or they didn't just care. Because the sound of the bike grew louder and louder as the person rode it straight into my garage.

"Hey!" I yelled in anger, getting to my feet. "I said that you should—"

The rest of my words were stolen straight out of my mouth at the sight of the man who stood before me. He was tall and... broad. Well, that was the only other word for it. Those wide shoulders made his leather jacket look criminally good. His hair was dark and messy, his beard trimmed enough to show the shape of his jaw. He looked older, at least by ten to twelve years.

His eyes caught the light and I saw gray, or maybe blue. Hard to tell with the way they looked straight through me. He moved like someone who knew exactly what he was doing, and I hated how aware I suddenly was of my heartbeat.

"I'm not taking no for an answer, lady." was the first thing he said. "You have to fix my bike ASAP."

Stupefied, I watched him maneuver the bike to my workbench and then applied the manual brake. Then he sighed, threw his shoulders back and stared at me.

"Hello?" He waved a hand in my face and with rapid blinks, I finally got my bearings again.

"Um..." I stuttered. "I said come back later. I'm currently busy, as you can see."

The man glanced at the dismantled bike in front of me with a cocked eyebrow, then back up at me. "Well, then, you'd have to make an exception. I have somewhere to be, and I need my bike to be there."

His audacity eventually made me snap out of it completely. I folded my arms and gave him the most disgusted look I could muster.

"Excuse you?" I retorted at him. "I said you should come around later!"

The man let out an impatient sound, dug into his leather jacket and pulled out a wad of cash. Then he slammed it on my workbench.

"There! That should shut you up!"

I wanted to fling those dollar bills in his face, but then I remembered how broke I was, since my father's men had refused to pay for my services. Muttering furiously, I yanked the wad and stuffed it into my own pocket.

Then I grabbed my wrench to distract myself. What the hell are you doing, Raine? I mentally slapped myself. You’re not sixteen, stop drooling!

The man smiled triumphantly as he watched me, crow's feet appearing at the corners of his eyes. While I worked on his rear brake, I could feel him watching. I told myself it was annoying, but part of me… liked him looking at me. His presence was magnetic. Every time I moved, I felt his eyes trailing me. When I finished, I wiped my hands and turned to find him already standing too close.

“She’s... good to go.” I said, trying to sound bored.

He gave a slow nod, his eyes dashing from my face to my hands, then back up. “Not bad.”

“I’m better than ‘not bad.’ You'll see when you take the bike for a test run.”

The corners of his lips jerked. “Guess I’ll have to come back and see.”

“Please don’t.”

He laughed under his breath, started the bike and the sound of it filled the space again. I watched him ride off without looking back, and I hated that I couldn’t look away.

“Cocky bastard!" I muttered. “Just like Dad.”

Except, maybe worse. Because this one made my pulse do stupid things. I hated men like him, and I was only too happy to add him to the growing list.