All Chapters of Claimed By The Biker King: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

SableThe office of the gas station was barely bigger than a closet.Cracked linoleum floors. A buzzing overhead light. A box fan in the corner that did jack shit for the heat. It may be October but it doesn’t really get cold in the southwest desert states. I sat hunched in a plastic chair behind a desk cluttered with receipts, a coffee-stained ledger, and a half-eaten bag of Cheetos.The clerk—Andy, according to his name tag—peeked in every few minutes. I could hear him nervously explaining things to customers. That the back was off-limits. That inventory was being counted. That no, he hadn’t seen any girl, no matter how much money they offered.I didn’t ask how much. I didn’t care.My lip was split. My left eye was swollen shut, pounding with each throb of my pulse. The back of my throat tasted like metal, and my ribs ached with every shallow breath. I’d wrapped my arms tight around myself, not because it helped, but because it was the only thing I could hold that didn’t flinch.I h

SableThe whiskey was warm in my veins. Smooth. Dangerous.One too many shots, plus the painkillers Hannah gave me earlier, and I was floating. Not in the good way. The room had a soft tilt, like I was on the edge of slipping into something I wouldn’t come back from.Hannah caught my elbow just as I stood.“Alright, ballerina,” she said, fishing keys from her back pocket. “Go crash in the truck. You’ve got jelly knees and murder eyes.”“I’m fine,” I mumbled.“Liar. Go lay down. We stop serving in an hour, then I’ve got bar breakdown and cash count—it’ll be a couple. You want to sleep somewhere that doesn’t smell like beer farts or testosterone.”I nodded, sluggish, and took the keys. Her old black Chevy was parked out back. I barely made it to the passenger side before the dizziness hit full force.Inside, it was dark. Cold. Still. I curled up sideways across the seat, hoodie pulled over my bruised ribs, and closed my eyes.Hand still wrapped around the keys.Just for a minute.Just to

SableThe first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was the ceiling.Dark. Smooth. Unfamiliar.The second thing I saw was the clock.7:02 p.m.I blinked. Sat up slow.I remembered falling asleep after Jarek brought me upstairs. I remembered locking the door. I remembered my body collapsing into the bed like it was safer than it had any right to be.But seventeen hours?Shit.The blanket had slipped halfway off me. My clothes stuck to my skin—cold with dried sweat, stale with exhaustion. My body felt less like a body and more like a bruise wrapped in plastic wrap and aluminum foil.I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, stood on shaky feet, and limped toward the bathroom.The mirror didn’t lie.My face looked worse in the daylight. The left eye was still sealed shut, angry purple wrapped in shades of green and black. The split in my lip had reopened in my sleep. A smear of dried blood lined my nostril. The cut on my cheek was scabbing, crooked and mean.But that wasn’t the worst of it.

JarekI didn’t stop walking.Not when I left the dining room. Not even when the compound walls seemed to close like jaws.She had no fucking clue.Sable Arden.The only woman who ever told me to get lost. The only one who looked me up and down and decided I wasn’t worth the trouble. That was four years ago.She was right.Back then? I wasn’t.But now?Now I was the king of this patch of asphalt and fire. The one men followed, the one rival clubs feared. And somehow, I still wasn’t enough for her.I slammed through the doors of my office, the heavy wood cracking on impact. I crossed the room in three steps, ripped the bottle of whiskey off the shelf, and hurled it. The glass exploded against the brick. Amber rained down like a storm cloud bleeding out. But it wasn’t enough.I needed something to hit back. Something to punish. Something to scream why the fuck did you come back if you weren’t ready for the fallout.Because for all her fire, all her bite, Sable still hadn’t figured it

SableThe unexpected knock on the door surprised me. “That sounds like my cue to leave,” Hannah replied, already heading toward the door with a wicked little smile. “I guess we can talk more about my love triangle later.”I didn’t move.Didn’t say anything.Didn’t offer to walk her out.I just sat on the edge of the bed as she opened the door—because I knew exactly who was on the other side.“I was just leaving,” Hannah said cheerfully.She squeezed out past him with a wink in my direction and a chirped, “Be nice!” before the door clicked shut again behind her.I didn’t look at him.Not at first.But I felt him.Like gravity.“Can I come in?” he asked, voice low and deceptively polite.I lifted my eyes, slow and unimpressed. “It’s your house.”He stepped inside anyway, shutting the door behind him with that maddening calm.“Contrary to what you may think of me,” he said, one hand still on the knob, “I’m actually a gentleman. And I meant what I said earlier—this room is yours if you wa