All Chapters of Claimed By The Ruthless Biker: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

The moment Ava pointed at my side, I looked down.Blood had soaked through the right side of my shirt, spreading farther than I expected. I pressed my hand against it instinctively, only to feel warmth seeping between my fingers.A stab wound.I honestly couldn’t remember when it happened.Somewhere between dragging Ava behind the counter, fighting off Bishop’s men, and putting a knife through the bastard who grabbed her on the stairs, someone must have slipped a blade into my side.“Cain…” Ava’s voice was tight with worry. “You’re hurt.”I looked at the wound for another second before lifting my head. “It can wait.”Ava’s brows etched in confusion, “What?”“It isn’t deep.” I answered back nonchalantly.“You don’t know that.” She countered. And I couldn’t help but her pissed about her stubbornness at this point.“I’ve had worse.” I said.That wasn’t bravado. It was simply the truth.A knife to the side wasn’t even among the top five worst injuries I’d survived in the military.“Cain,”

Something within me knew kissing her was anything but right. It was difficult to let go of her tender, plump lips when things seemed intense already. One of my hand clasped her face, pulling her lips closer for a better experience.But immediately, I was reminded of the very reason why I shouldn’t be doing this with her.I pulled away quickly, catching her off guard. The moment our lips parted, reality came crashing back harder than any punch I’d ever taken.I stared at Ava, my mind suddenly refusing to acknowledge what had just happened.This wasn’t supposed to happen.Not with her.Not ever.I had spent years keeping people at arm’s length. It was easier that way. Safer. Feelings made men careless, and careless men didn’t survive in my world. I’d learned that lesson long before I ever wore Harlow’s Ride colors.Then Ava Monroe walked into The Pit.Somewhere between protecting her, arguing with her, and watching her slowly become part of this place, I’d crossed a line I never inten

The bedroom felt strangely quiet after Ava and Mara left.The laughter they carried with them disappeared into the hallway, followed by the sound of the bedroom door clicking shut. For a few seconds, I simply stared at the closed door, my thoughts lingering on Ava’s smile longer than they should have.A chair scraped softly across the wooden floor.Grim carried the tray from the bedside table and placed it across my lap before pulling another chair closer to the bed. He watched me for a moment, his weathered face unreadable, then reached behind my back to adjust the pillows.“Sit forward.”I obeyed with a low grunt.The fresh stab wound protested immediately, sending a dull ache across my side.Grim supported my shoulder while stuffing another pillow behind me before easing me back against it.“There.”I exhaled slowly.“Comfortable enough?”“I’ve been more comfortable.”“I figured.”He looked down at the tray.A bowl of stew sat beside a plate of bread, along with a bottle of water a

The stab wound still burned every time I moved the wrong way, and the fresh bandage wrapped tightly around my side reminded me of its existence with every breath I took. It reminded me of Ava.And thinking about her reminded me of how upset she’d be when she realized I didn’t wait a day to get healed before going out.She really took her time to heal my injury. It wasn’t unbearable, but it was enough to slow me down. Unfortunately, slowing down wasn’t a luxury I could afford.Too much was happening at once.Bishop had finally stopped hiding behind threats and brought the war straight to The Pit. The federal agents were becoming bolder with every passing day, and although we had managed to fool them for one night, I knew they wouldn’t be satisfied for long.The next visit wouldn’t end so easily.There was only one person who might already have answers and solutions too.Reaper.At first, I’d planned to wait until I was fully healed before making the trip. It would’ve been the smarter

The engine rumbled steadily beneath me as I drove back toward Greystone. My meeting with Reaper replayed in my head over and over again, every sentence weighing heavier than the last. I’d gone to him believing there was a chance he already had a solution, or at the very least some guidance that would keep the federal agents from tightening the noose around The Pit. Instead, I’d walked away with nothing except another warning hanging over my head.If I couldn’t deal with the FBI on my own, my position as enforcer wouldn’t be guaranteed much longer.The words irritated me more than I cared to admit.For two years I’d done everything expected of me. I kept the club profitable, protected our territory, settled disputes before they became wars, and made sure our operations remained clean enough to stay beneath the authorities’ radar. None of that seemed to matter now. One problem I couldn’t immediately solve had become a measure of whether I deserved my patch.I tightened my grip on the st