All Chapters of Claimed By The Biker King: Chapter 161 - Chapter 170

JarekThe Iron Jackal in front of me swung hard enough that I felt the air move past my face when I ducked.I drove my fist into his ribs before he could recover, followed it with another shot to his jaw, then shoved him backward into the side of a rusted shipping container. Metal rattled behind him as he bounced off it and came at me again, either too pissed off or too stupid to realize he was already losing.Probably both.The freight yard had dissolved into complete fucking chaos around us. Gunfire still cracked from somewhere beyond the trailers, but most of the men near me had gotten too tangled together to risk shooting without hitting one of their own. Sons of Doom, Daggers, Saints, and Reapers had the Jackals boxed in from damn near every direction, but the bastards were fighting like men who knew retreat was getting harder by the second.I blocked another punch and buried my knee in the Jackal’s stomach.He folded forward.I grabbed the back of his cut and slammed his face i

  Sable By the time we made it back to the Devil’s Den, the place looked less like a strip club and more like a biker triage center with alcohol. Men from four different clubs spilled through the doors in various stages of filthy, bruised, bleeding, and obnoxiously proud of themselves. Anybody who needed an actual hospital had already been sent, while the rest were being patched up wherever someone could find an empty chair and enough room to work.  First-aid kits covered two tables near the back, and one of the Sons of Doom prospects was walking around with an armful of ice packs while telling everyone who complained that they were lucky he wasn’t

  Lola I was touching up my lipstick when movement on the little monitor in the corner of the dressing room caught my attention. The Devil’s Den was packed, but that wasn’t surprising. Between the Sons of Doom, Black Daggers, Iron Saints, and Steel Reapers, there were enough bikers downstairs to keep every bartender and dancer busy for the rest of the night. Half of them looked like they had recently lost arguments with fists, bullets, or both, but apparently surviving a war gave men a hell of an appetite for alcohol and naked women. Then I spotted Sable.  “Well, there

SableJarek finished the last of his beer in one long pull, set the empty bottle down with a quiet clink, and looked at me like he’d already decided how the rest of the night was going to go.“I’m ready to find out,” he said.Marcus didn’t even pretend to hesitate. “Yeah. Me too.”Jarek reached behind the bar where he’d been keeping my cut safe all night. The leather was still stiff with dried blood in places. He held it out. I slipped it on over the tiny white tank without a word. The weight of it settled across my shoulders like a reminder that I was still here.None of us said goodbye to anyone.The hotel was only a few blocks away. The night air felt cooler against the thin denim of Lola’s shorts and the fact that I still wasn’t wearing anything underneath them. Every step made me aware of how wet I still was from Diamond’s hands and the way she’d guided mine. No one spoke until the hotel room door shut behind us and the lock clicked.Marcus leaned back against it, arms crossed,

SableBy the time the Black Daggers were lined up outside the Devil’s Den the next morning, everyone looked like they had survived a war, a victory party, and several hours of questionable decision-making.Which, to be fair, we had.The Sons of Doom were scattered around the parking lot seeing everyone off. Max stood near the front with Emilio while Lola leaned against the building wearing sunglasses big enough to hide half her face and clutching a bottle of water like she blamed it personally for the existence of mornings.“You look rough,” I told her as I walked over.Lola lowered her sunglasses just enough to glare at me. “You spent five hundred dollars on strippers and disappeared into a private room with Diamond. You don’t get to judge anybody’s life choices.”“I wasn’t judging. I was admiring.”“Better.”I laughed and hugged her, careful of the lingering soreness in my ribs. “Thanks for the clothes.”“You mean the clothes you stole?”“Borrowed.”“You’re leaving with them.”“I’ll