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Chapter 29 – You Didn’t Need to Ask

last update publish date: 2026-09-20 01:33:40

Marcus

By the time we got back to the clubhouse, I had Mateo Serrano’s name written across three different pages, two maps, and enough search results to make me want to put my fist through a wall.

The problem was that knowing his name had not made Jarek any easier to find.

We knew Mateo had supplied the Iron Jackals with weapons, money, freight access, and people who could make problems disappear. We knew Diego “Vandal” Serrano had been his younger brother and his direct connection inside the c
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Tiffany Spence
Great so far! I hope the next chapter is out soon!
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    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

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    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.”

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    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

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  • 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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