Claiming the Biker (Royal Bastards MC: Charleston, WV 9)

September

“What are you doing?” Smoke hands me a beer as I stare at the back door of the clubhouse waiting for Andrea to arrive with Hazel. They’ve been thicker than thieves lately.

She had another date with Justice yesterday. Was hoping one of us would have something on him by now and I’m beginning to wonder if I had him all wrong. Motherfucker is like a motherfucking boy scout.

I had other shit to take care of and couldn’t be at her place when she got in like I had planned to be. She’s spending more and more time with this asshole, and I hate it. The closer she gets to him the further out of touch we are. I’m wondering if she isn’t getting a little too comfortable in this role she’s playing.

Only have myself to blame for setting this stupid shit in motion.

I did it to myself.

“Nothing.” I stomp off toward the food but I’m not even hungry.

I grab a couple of hot dogs before Link’s Ol’ Lady, Pam eats them all. Love the woman to death but fuck me being pregnant has made her crazy. Crazier than she already was. Shit must be in the damn water. Her sister Jules recently pushed out another kid and Wylla Mae had a little boy a couple weeks ago. Prez’s woman, Alexa is set to give him a set of twins any day now.

We’ve all got a bet going on how long it takes Holy to knock Hazel up. At least with Andi I don’t have to worry about that shit. She takes her birth control on the regular and she isn’t fucking Justice. As far as I know.

I’m surprised he’s still hanging on after all this time. That he bought the whole I’m saving myself for marriage routine. Fucking chump. My girl doesn’t need his pathetic cock when she can ride mine any-fuckin’-time she wants.

Guess that saying is true that men love the chase. Because I’ve been chasing after Andrea since I first spotted her with Wylla Mae. She’s not like anyone I’ve ever met.

My phone buzzes with a text.

I swipe my thumb over the screen.

Andi:Not feeling so hot.

Viking:Anything I can do?

Andi:I think it’s just a stomach bug. Probably picked something up at work. Flu season is upon us.

Viking:I’m coming over.

Andi:I’m probably going to sleep. No fun for you.

Viking:Rather watch you sleep than watch these jackasses’ doing burnouts and shit.

Andi:That’s sweet. You going soft on me?

I stare at her text and then scrub a palm over my face.

Viking:Nah, always hard when I’m with you.

Andi:I don’t want to get you sick.

Viking:Think I can chance it.

Andi:…

The dots move as if she’s typing a response then disappear. I get the impression she doesn’t want me there and makes me wonder if it’s because she’d rather be with him.

I toss my beer in the trash and nod to Prodigy. “Later, man.”

He lifts his chin.

I stop off at the drugstore near Andi’s and grab some canned chicken noodle soup and some over the counter cold medication along with cough drops. Up by the register they have some single stem roses. I grab one of them too and a bottle of some fancy ass water that costs more than it should. As I’m coming out of the store there’s some dude sitting by the door with a couple of pups in a cardboard box.

Puppies make everyone happy. I take a look in the box. Black little wrinkly ass things with bug eyes and floppy ears. “How much, man?”

“Free. Just trying to get them to a good home.” I can tell by the looks of his disheveled clothes and lack of self-care the dude can barely take care of himself. I don’t know his story, but I do know we can all fall on hard times.

“Stay here.”

I go back in the store and buy a collar and leash. Couple cans of dog food and a chew toy.

Andi’s going to kill me.

Back outside I tuck my bags into my saddlebags. I go back over to the man with the box of puppies. I squat down and the scrawniest of the bunch licks my hand.

“I’ll take him.”

The man nods. He’s got three more. I pull my phone out and dial Hound.

“Yo.”

“Got a dude here with three pups that could use a home. You got anyone who can foster?”

“Text me an address.”

“Got a friend who works with dogs. Stay here and he’ll take care of the rest.” I take my wallet out and give him the cash I got on me. “Payment for the pup. My woman is gonna love him.”

I fire a text off to Hound with the location, put the pup inside my jacket and zip it up. It’s hot as fuck but I don’t have far to drive, and this is the safest way to transport him right now on my bike. Just hope he doesn’t piss or shit on me.

I do a cruise down Andi’s Street and see that motherfucker’s truck parked in the spot next to her Durango.

I park a couple blocks away debating on dragging the asshole out the front door to beat his ass on the front lawn.

I trudge down the street hoping by the time I get to her door he’s gone. That she told him to kick rocks.

Can’t help but think she lied to me.