Claimed By The Bikers Novels & Stories

The bikers who were more severely injured were also pushed out in preparation to be transferred to another hospital facility for more professional treatment. The terrible states that the bikers were in made everyone present fall silent. John saw that all hopes of smearing Jones Enterprise’s reputation were lost, and seized the chance to flee in a hurry with his men, for fear that the reporters might recall what he said and bug him over it. The reporters aimed their cameras at the injured bikers. “Do you have anything to say regarding the incident?” “We will pursue this matter to the end! We won’t just forget about this incident!” some bikers said, agitated.

He made me feel brave and safe, and I had been so desperate to hold onto it, I’d even let myself feel attracted to him, forgetting the most important thing. All bikers are condescending assholes! And they’d never see a whore as anything other than a cunt to fuck! I turned on the shower and muffled the sobs into my hand...

Now that was the Ty I knew and loved. "We still haven't seen him yet but if you tracked him here and that book ties in then there are only so many places around here he could be hiding out. We'll get to the bottom of it. Just one more player, he should be here..." Just then Chaz opened up the gate and a whole fucking crew of bikers came riding in. The leader dismounted off his custom made top of the line ride with his wife's name emblazoned on the side and headed for us. One smooth motherfucker this one, and the shades just tipped that shit over the edge.

A low, dangerous rev sliced through the noise. Every head turned. The bike came first—black, sleek, unapologetic. Then the rider. Leather jacket. Broad shoulders. Helmet tucked under one arm as he slowed near the parking lot. Girls started whispering. Then whispering turned into gasps. “Oh my God.” “Is that—?” “He’s so hot.” “I would literally die.” Phones were already out. Hayden froze mid-step. “Oh. Oh no.” I frowned. “Oh what?” He swallowed, eyes glued ahead. “Oh oh.”

“If anything goes wrong, we need to act fast.” Minutes passed and then all of a sudden the sound of roaring engines filled the air. I turned my head quickly to look over at a group of bikers pulling into the parking lot. They were rough-looking, wearing leather jackets, covered in tattoos, and their sunglasses hid their eyes. A guy who looked about six feet tall with a scar running from his eye down his cheek stepped up next to me and said, “Looks like you’re lost little girls.” The other guys laughed behind him. I stared at him, expressionless. “No thanks, I’m good.”

That scared her more than anything. She pulled away gently. “You can’t protect me from something I don’t even understand.” Axel glanced toward the window like he expected someone outside. “Some things are better if you don’t know yet.” “Yet?” Jenny repeated. “So I will know eventually?” Jace gave a small nod. “Yes. Just… not today.” Jenny stared at them. They looked serious. Worried. Not like brothers being dramatic — like men dealing with something real. “Does this have to do with the motorcycle club?” she asked.

The two drivers opened their doors and got out, walking towards me as well. “We don’t want any trouble, we are just lackeys in everything.” They held up their hands in surrender, holding still as I stalked past them to the van. I swung open the side door, its hinges protesting loudly. There was nothing inside except for road block equipment, vests, and someone’s half eaten sandwich. “Son of a bitch!” I slammed the door home and turned to the two wolves. I knew they were Black Haven, the stench of licorice was strong on them. The two bikers had joined the others, more than likely feeling safety in numbers. They were slight and about a good half foot or more shorter than me, making them as mor

KNOX The attempt on the twins happened on a Saturday in August, at the pack school's end-of-summer gathering, and it was over in four minutes. I want to be precise about what it was and what it was not. It was not a coordinated attack by any of the challenge's actors. It was a single person — a man named Croft who had been affiliated with the Sagebrush pack's political structure for years and who had lost everything when the enticing challenge failed. He was at the gathering because he had a nephew in the pack school, which gave him guest access. He had been building toward something for three months, alone, in a deteriorating situation with no support and no path forward.

She was clearly loyal to these bikers. What the hell have I really gotten myself into?

"There are at least fifty plus biker gangs in your pack territory, Delta Pack. And amongst these fifty, at least forty-eight of them run their businesses very calm and friendly. They don't want trouble with the law. And the others, if there is any rival or violence, it is strictly within themselves. Bikers are not known for causing major trouble. Especially not troubles that will include the royal family." "That was what I thought too," I spat out, "until they rode into my property and stole the girls right out of my hands." Rocco raised an eyebrow. "How sure are you that it was the bikers?" "I am sure," I said, my teeth clenched. "I saw the tracks. I saw the bikes. I know." Rocco let out a