All Chapters of Claimed By The Biker King: Chapter 181 - Chapter 190

JarekThe older man came back before I had managed to decide whether the light through the window was getting brighter or dimmer.That annoyed me more than it should have. I still had no sense of time beyond daylight, no way to tell how long I had been sitting there or how much of whatever they had pumped into me was still circulating through my system. My head was clearer than when I woke, but my limbs still felt too heavy, and every deep breath pulled at my ribs.The lock turned, and I lifted my head.He entered alone this time. No water. No guard hovering near the door. No chair dragged into place so he could sit comfortably and pretend this was a conversation between equals. He stopped several feet in front of me and studied my face.“You look better.”“You look disappointing.”His mouth barely moved. “Still trying to be funny.”“I’m chained to a chair. I have to entertain myself somehow.”He glanced at my wrists. The skin beneath the metal had started to redden where I had been t

 SableBy the time we had Mateo Serrano’s face pinned to the wall beside a map of every property Nixx and Benny could connect to him, I had stared at him long enough to hate the shape of his fucking mouth.It was ridiculous, and I knew it. His mouth had not taken Jarek. His money and his people had. Still, every time I looked at the photograph, I heard that calm voice telling me I had walked away from the freight yard with the person I loved while he had not.I was still standing in front of the map when Benny’s laptop chimed. He glanced down, then went completely still. Nixx noticed before anyone else and moved beside him without saying a word.“What?” I asked.Neither of them answered immediately, which made something cold curl beneath my ribs. I crossed the room. “Benny.”He looked at Nixx before turning the screen slightly away from the rest of us. “Anonymous email.

MarcusBy seven the next morning, nobody in the clubhouse was pretending we were following Mateo’s trail anymore. We were trying to get ahead of it.That distinction came from Sable sometime around four, after neither of us had actually slept. She had been lying against my chest in the dark when she said Mateo wanted us chasing the places he was willing to show us. The video, the phone call, the clean little breadcrumbs tied directly to his name. If he was smart enough to build shell companies and keep the Iron Jackals supplied without putting his own face in their club, he was smart enough not to hold Jarek in a warehouse with MATEO SERRANO printed on the fucking lease.By sunrise, Nixx and Benny had taken that idea and ripped the search sideways. They started with the train horn in the video, then crossed active freight lines against properties tied not just to Mateo, but to companies that had done business with his companies, received transfers from them, shared managers, shared re

MarcusBy 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 club. We knew Jarek had been held at the south property and moved before we reached it.What we did not know was where Mateo would take him next.Sable stood at the main table while Nixx and Benny worked through Mesa Verde Logistics. Stone and Bryce were calling every contact we had between Middletown and Albuquerque. Hannah kept food moving through the room whether anyone wanted it or not, and Charlie had taken over writing down every address the guys shouted across the clubhouse.I stared at Ma

Marcus By the sixth day without Jarek, everybody in the clubhouse had started looking at me before they made a move. At first, I had not noticed it. Somebody had to answer questions, assign people, decide which lead deserved bodies and which one needed another ten minutes of checking before we burned fuel chasing it. Jarek was gone, and I was his enforcer. Stepping in was automatic. By Day Six, it no longer felt automatic. Every wrong address cost time. Every driver we checked who turned out to be useless cost time. Every decision to send two men instead of six, to wait for Nixx to confirm a plate, to hold back instead of hitting a property blind, came with the same thought I never