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publish date:
2026-09-12 01:35:01
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The Rogue Biker’s Plus-Size Mate 90.
Chapter 90 Laila POVZane did not answer the photo with a speech.He took a drum into the lot, poured in enough petrol to insult a yard, and waited until every rider was standing where they could see.Rook. Shaved head. Eyebrow scar. Quiet chain man. Harden at the bay with his bag like a nervous priest. Mother in a chair at the door because she refused a back room.I held the spare jacket by two fingers.It still smelled like Nessa’s throat and old pack soap and a promise he had not finished.“If you want it,” I said, “say so now.”“I want it gone,” Zane said.He took it from me and dropped it in.Fire climbed the leather like it had been hungry for years. The old colours twisted. The lining went first. Blood or oil, it all cooked the same.Nobody clapped.Shaved head nodded once.Rook spat in the dirt, not on the drum.“Pack leather,” she said. “Harlan will call it a flag.”“It was already a flag on her body,” I said.Zane watched until the sleeves were gone.Then he looked at the ot
The Rogue Biker’s Plus-Size Mate 89.
Chapter 89 Laila POVThe recorder blinked on the canvas like a little red rat.Reid was already scrambling along the beam. Zane hit the cage door so hard the mesh sang. I went for the machine first because a body can wait and a file cannot.I dropped into the ring, grabbed the recorder, and held it to my mouth while it was still hungry.“Laila,” I said, clear. “I hold the licence. This is my bar. The man in the ceiling is Reid. He stole a pin, bit a rail, climbed my house, and now he records my sex to sell a story. I chose the man on the bar. I choose this wood. If you air this, air my name right.”Then I smashed it on the post until the blink died.Pieces. Plastic. Silence.Reid laughed from the beam, breathless.“Copies, Lai. You know that song.”Zane had him by the ankle two seconds later. They hit the canvas together. Reid’s air left him in a bark. The stamp on his jacket stared up, already old news.“Alive,” I said. “Still. If you kill him on my floor the warrant grows teeth.”Za
The Rogue Biker’s Plus-Size Mate 88.
Chapter 88 Laila POVThe second dock did not get her.Rook and I were there first. Paper vs wheels. The contractor looked at leather and a licence card and decided he liked his job. Mother went back up, furious, slow, alive. She told me to stop collecting corridors.Zane met us at The Masks with Harlan’s answer still on his mouth.“He did not sign the side deal. He wants Nessa in front of him at dawn. That is not the same as help.”“It is not nothing,” I said.Tape still kissed my front glass. I went to the council window anyway, jacket on, no patch, dirt washed out of my hair and still living in my hip.The clerk had already seen the strip clip. Bottle. Daylight. My thighs on a seat.“Self defence,” I said. “They cut a bike. I am the licence holder. I pay tax. I do not sell men in cages. I lock thieves. If you suspend me, say it because of sport. Do not say it because a woman in silk does not like my size.”The clerk blinked. Wrote. Asked me to come back for a hearing date.Outside,
The Rogue Biker’s Plus-Size Mate 87.
Chapter 87 Laila POVTonight meant we did not wait for a polite morning.The lawyer filed. The better suit stalled what he could. Harden killed a transfer code that should not have existed. That bought the bed a few hours. It did not name Arthur Vale to his own glass.Zane wanted the front door.Rook shook her head.“Suits love front doors. We take the office that holds the drives. City girl knows a till. She comes with me. You stay on the street and look like a problem they do not want to call down.”He hated it.He nodded.The holding office was a low box with a logo that meant nothing and a lock that meant money. Rook and I went in quiet. I am not writing the teeth of it. Enough to say the till part of my brain still knew which drawers people trust.We took drives. Not lives.In the van after, Zane’s hands checked my face, my hip, my taped knuckle, like a list.“You smell like their carpet.”“You smell like a street you were not allowed to leave.”Rook drove us under a black bridge
The Rogue Biker’s Plus-Size Mate 86.
Chapter 86 Laila POVThe lawyer’s office smelled like toner and old victories.He was the number in Zane’s phone under Club. Grey at the temples. No leather. Eyes that had seen warrants before breakfast.He read the order twice.“They used the raid and the dirt to make her look unstable as next of kin. Temporary is the word that bites. Temporary can last long enough to lose a room.”“Stall it,” I said.“I can stall until morning if you sign a contest now and if your hospital man grows a spine on paper. I cannot kill a facility licence with a glare.”Zane stood at the window like the street might climb in.“Name the pocket.”“Not yet,” the lawyer said. “Your technician is faster than my intern. Let him finish.”I signed. My taped hand made the signature look like a fight. Good.The better suit arrived late with a folder and guilt.“I can attach the thirty day clinical letter. I cannot attach a pack stamp to a judge and expect poetry.”“Attach what lives,” I said. “Leave the poetry.”Th
The Rogue Biker’s Plus-Size Mate 85.
Chapter 85 Laila POVThe photo on the desk was old enough to cut.Zane’s mouth. A younger throat. Nessa’s chin tipped up like she knew the angle by heart.I did not pick it up.“Sit,” Harlan said.I sat with dirt on my knees and Zane’s unfinished touch still buzzing between my legs. He stood behind the chair. Pack filled the door. Nessa left her collar open on purpose.She talked like a love song packed with glass.How he liked her throat. How he went quiet before he took. How he marked her under a yard light and then marked a road instead. How a promise does not need a speech if a mouth has already written it.Some of it was true. I felt the flinch in him. Some of it was paint. She skipped the part where he chose not to sit in Harlan’s spare chair for the rest of his life.She stepped close enough that her perfume sat on my tongue.“He still goes quiet,” she said, looking at my mark. “She has not learned the language.”“I learned the part that matters,” I said. “He stops when I say s
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