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Chapter 9 – The Room I Didn’t Choose

مؤلف: Tiffanie Campbell
last update تاريخ النشر: 2026-01-11 15:17:00
Sable

I didn’t remember walking back to the room.

Didn’t remember the halls or even closing the door behind me. I must’ve moved on autopilot, one foot after the other, because here I was—sitting on the edge of the bed like a crash survivor who didn’t know what hit her.

The dinner had wrecked me.

Not because he yelled. He didn’t, not really. Not because he hit on me or tried to fuck me.

No—because he didn’t.

Because he looked me in the eye and said he never claimed anyone. Not once. That all the
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Allisonslau1986
Freakin love this book
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  • Claimed By The Biker King   Chapter 87 – The Knife

    JarekThe knife had been sitting on my dresser for weeks before I finally started carrying it.That probably made me an asshole, considering how much Sable had clearly loved giving it to me. She had already gotten the reaction she deserved at Birthday Take Two. I had opened the box, tested the weight of the blackened steel, run my thumb over the dark walnut handle, and kissed her hard enough that Marcus complained about the rest of us continuing with the party.Then life kept happening, and the knife stayed in its leather sheath beside my wallet while the club dealt with Mateo, the Jackals, Mack, damaged businesses, cleanup, and everything else that came with surviving a war nobody had

  • Claimed By The Biker King   Chapter 86 – Back Where We Belong

    MarcusBy the time we left Nowhere the next morning, I had decided motorcycles were a terrible invention.That opinion had nothing to do with the machine and everything to do with Jarek King.Sable took one look at the way I lowered myself onto my seat and started laughing before she even had her helmet on.“Not one fucking word.”“I didn’t say anything.”“Your face did.”Jarek swung onto his bike besid

  • Claimed By The Biker King   Chapter 85 – Worth It Again ️

    SableThe motel room was not romantic.That was probably why I liked it.No flowers. No candles. No carefully arranged sheets pretending three bikers had suddenly developed taste. Just a king-size bed, a cheap lamp, an air conditioner rattling like it had unresolved personal issues, and three helmets sitting on the little table by the door.Perfect.Marcus dropped onto the edge of the bed and groaned.I looked at him. “We haven’t even started.”

  • Claimed By The Biker King   Chapter 84 – The Freight Yard

    JarekThe freight yard looked smaller without people shooting at us.That was my first thought when we rolled through the open gate the next morning and killed our engines near the row of rusted trailers.Smaller.Quieter.Ordinary enough to piss me off.The last time I stood here, the air had been full of gunfire, exhaust, shouting, and men trying to kill each other between freight containers. Vandal had been alive. Mateo Serrano had still been a stranger none of u

  • Claimed By The Biker King   Chapter 83 – Back to Nowhere

    SableFour hours on a motorcycle gave a person a lot of time to reconsider whether closure was worth having an ass.By the second fuel stop, Marcus was stretching his back beside the pumps and glaring at both of us like the state of New Mexico had personally designed its highways to punish him.“You okay?” I asked.He pointed at me. “Do not start.”“I was being caring.”“You were smiling.”“

  • Claimed By The Biker King   Chapter 82 – No Cages for Any of Us

    SableThe problem with surviving something terrible was that everybody wanted rules afterward.Doctors had rules. Cops had rules. Clubs had rules. Husbands who had been kidnapped off ordinary roads apparently developed enough rules to qualify as a small government.So when I told Jarek and Marcus that we needed to sit down and decide what came next, Jarek looked suspicious immediately.“No.”I stared at him across the kitchen table. “I haven’t said anything yet.”“You used the phrase decide what comes next. That sounds like a meeting.”Marcus sat beside him with a beer and the expression of a man enjoying danger from a safe distance. “It does sound like a meeting.”“You both suck.”“Still married to us,” Marcus said.“Unfortunately.”Jarek’s mouth twitched. That was already better than trying to have this conversation two weeks ago.We were upstairs in the private kitchen with the clubhouse moving normally beneath us. Someone laughed downstairs. A bike started in the garage, idled for

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